By comparison with Spurgeon’s “argumentation”, here is a section from Thomas Manton who is in fact making an argument. In the First Sermon of Twenty Sermons (Vol. 2, pp. 175, et seq.) Manton is Psalm 32:1-2:

Psalm 32:1–2 (AV)

1  Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. 2 Blessed is the man unto whom the LORD imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile.

Manton purposefully makes an argument, stating propositions and inferences which lead from one to the other:

The necessity that lies upon us, being all guilty before God, to seek after our justification, and the pardon of our sins by Christ. That it may sink the deeper into your minds, I shall do it in this scheme or method:—First, A reasonable nature implies a conscience; a conscience implies a law; a law implies a sanction; a sanction implies a judge, and a judgment-day (when all shall be called to account for breaking the law); and this judgment-day infers a condemnation upon all mankind unavoidably, unless the Lord will compromise the matter, and find out some way in the chancery of the gospel wherein we may be relieved. This way God hath found out in Christ, and being brought about by such a mysterious contrivance, we ought to be deeply and thankfully apprehensive of it, and humbly and broken-heartedly to quit the one covenant, and accept of the grace provided for us in the other.

 Thomas Manton, The Complete Works of Thomas Manton, vol. 2 (London: James Nisbet & Co., 1871), 178–179.

Here, Manton is not interested in necessarily creating an emotional response but rather in providing information: He is making an argument to change the way in which his hearers think: “That may sink deeper into your minds.” This is ultimately a mechanism to transform another’s affections, but the effect — if successful — is more lasting than merely provoking an emotion.

It is possible to provoke an emotion which results in no change. An emotion can arise and subside — and be very powerful in while in crest, but become invisible when it wanes. 

Interestingly, in the first section of his argument, Manton notes how an emotion can have a passing effect, for the worse:

A reasonable nature implies a conscience; for man can reflect upon his own actions, and hath that in him to acquit or condemn him accordingly as he doth good or evil, 1 John 3:20, 21. Conscience is nothing but the judgment a man makes upon his actions morally considered, the good or the evil, the rectitude or obliquity, that is in them with respect to rewards or punishment. As a man acts, so he is a party; but as he reviews and censures his actions, so he is a judge. Let us take notice only of the condemning part, for that is proper to our case. After the fact, the force of conscience is usually felt more than before or in the fact; because before, through the treachery of the senses, and the revolt of the passions, the judgment of reason is not so clear. I say, our passions and affections raise clouds and mists which darken the mind, and do incline the will by a pleasing violence; but after the evil action is done, when the affection ceaseth, then guilt flasheth in the face of conscience. As Judas, whose heart lay asleep all the while he was going on in his villainy, but afterwards it fell upon him. Thou hast ‘sinned in betraying innocent blood.’ When the affections are satisfied, and give place to reason, that was before condemned, and reason takes the throne again, it hath the more force to affect us with grief and fear, whilst it strikes through the heart of a man with a sharp sentence of reproof for obeying appetite before reason. Now this conscience of sin may be choked and smothered for a while, but the flame will break forth, and our hidden fears are easily revived and awakened, except we get our pardon and discharge. A reasonable nature implies a conscience.

 Thomas Manton, The Complete Works of Thomas Manton, vol. 2 (London: James Nisbet & Co., 1871), 179. Let’s pick apart the psychology of the conscience and passions:

First provides a definition for conscience:

Conscience is nothing but the judgment a man makes upon his actions morally considered

Conscience is a internal examination of our actions: Was that good or bad? Well, if we have this ability to judge ourselves, why do we not always choose the good? Because conscience varies in its strength:

After the fact, the force of conscience is usually felt more than before or in the fact; 

Here is an interesting notice: we feel conscience more plainly after we sinned than before. Manton places the fault in a thoughtless flood of “passions”:

because before, through the treachery of the senses, and the revolt of the passions, the judgment of reason is not so clear. 

In short, the desire for sin will swamp our conscience. The reason cannot function in the face of the dark desire:

I say, our passions and affections raise clouds and mists which darken the mind, and do incline the will by a pleasing violence; but after the evil action is done, when the affection ceaseth, then guilt flasheth in the face of conscience. 

The result of this passion and sin is the return of conscience, which leaves us alone with guilt:

As Judas, whose heart lay asleep all the while he was going on in his villainy, but afterwards it fell upon him. Thou hast ‘sinned in betraying innocent blood.’ When the affections are satisfied, and give place to reason, that was before condemned, and reason takes the throne again, it hath the more force to affect us with grief and fear, whilst it strikes through the heart of a man with a sharp sentence of reproof for obeying appetite before reason. 

Then passions — being a sort judgment — will appear pile upon the judgment of the conscience and bring on to despair. What then can be done in such a circumstance:

Now this conscience of sin may be choked and smothered for a while, but the flame will break forth, and our hidden fears are easily revived and awakened, except we get our pardon and discharge. A reasonable nature implies a conscience.