is necessary to have a regard to rhythm, or whether it is sufficient
to do so at the beginning and end of a sentence. For many people think
that it is sufficient for a sentence to end and be wound up in a
rhythmical manner. But although that is the main point, it is not the
only one; for the sounding of the periods is only to be laid aside,
not to be thrown away. And therefore, as men's ears are always on the
watch for the end of a sentence, and are greatly influenced by that,
that certainly ought never to be devoid of rhythm; but harmony ought
to pervade the whole sentence from beginning to end; and the whole
ought to proceed from the beginning so naturally that the end shall be
consistent with every previous part. But that will not be difficult
to men who have been trained in a good school, who have written many
things, and who have made also all the speeches which they have
delivered without written papers like written speeches. For the
sentence is first composed in the mind; and then words come
immediately: and then they are immediately sent forth by the mind,
than which nothing is more rapid in its movements; so that each falls
into its proper place. And then their regular order is settled by
different terminations in different sentences; and all the expressions
at the beginning and in the middle of the sentence ought to be
composed with reference to the end. For sometimes the torrent of an
oration is rapid; sometimes its progress is moderate; so that from the
very beginning one can see how one wishes to come to the end. Nor is
it in rhythm more than in the other embellishments of a speech that we
behave exactly as poets do; though still, in an oration, we avoid all
resemblance to a poem.
LX. For there is in both oratory and poetry, first of all the
material, then the execution. The material consists in the words,
the execution in the arrangement of the words. But there are three
divisions of each,--of words there is the metaphorical, the new, and
the old-fashioned; for of appropriate words we say nothing at
present; but of arrangement there are those which we have mentioned,
composition, neatness, and rhythm. But the poets are the most free
and frequent in the use of each; for they use words in a metaphorical
sense not only more frequently, but also more daringly; and they use
old-fashioned words more willingly, and new ones more freely. And the
case with respect to rhythm is the same; in which they are obliged
to comply with a kind of necessity: but still these things must be
understood as being neither too different, nor yet in any respect
united. Accordingly we find that rhythm is not the same in an oration
as in a poem; and that that which is pronounced to be rhythmical in an
oration is not always effected by a strict attention to the rules of
rhythm; but sometimes either by neatness, or by the casual arrangement
of the words.
Accordingly, if the question is raised as to what is the rhythm of an
oration, it is every sort of rhythm; but one sort is better and more
suitable than another. If the question is, what is the place of this
rhythm? it is in every portion of the words. If you ask where it has
arisen; it has arisen from the pleasure of the ears. If the principle
is sought on which the words are to be arranged; that will be
explained in another place, because that relates to practice, which
was the fourth and last division which we made of the subject. If
the question is, when; always: if, in what place; it consists in
the entire connexion of the words. If we are asked, What is the
circumstance which causes pleasure? we reply, that it is the same
as in verse; the method of which is determined by art; but the ears
themselves define it by their own silent sensations, without any
reference to principles of art.
LXI. We have said enough of the nature of it. The practice follows;
and that we must discuss with greater accuracy. And in this discussion
inquiry has been made, whether it is in the whole of that rounding of
a sentence which the Greeks call [Greek: periodos], and which we call
"_ambitus_" or "_circuitus_," or "_comprehensio_" or "_continuatio_"
or "_circumscriptio_," or in the beginning only, or in the end, or
in both, that rhythm must be maintained? And, in the next place, as
rhythm appears one thing and a rhythmical sentence another, what is
the difference between them? and again, whether it is proper for
the divisions of a sentence to be equal in every sort of rhythm, or
whether we should make some shorter and some longer; and if so, when,
and why, and in what parts; whether in many or in one; whether in
unequal or equal ones; and when we are to use one, and when the other;
and what words may be most suitably combined together, and how; or
whether there is absolutely no distinction; and, what is most material
to the subject of all things, by what system oratory may be made
rhythmical. We must also explain from whence such a form of words has
arisen; and we must explain what periods it may be becoming to make,
and we must also discuss their parts and sections, if I may so call
them; and inquire whether they have all one appearance and length, or
more than one; and if many, in what place; or when we may use them,
and what kinds it is proper to use; and, lastly, the utility of the
whole kind is to be explained, which indeed is of wider application;
for it is adapted not to any one particular thing, but to many.
And a man may, without giving replies on each separate point, speak of
the entire genus in such a way that his answer may appear sufficient
as to the whole matter. Leaving, therefore, the other kinds out of the
question, we select this one, which is conversant with actions and the
forum, concerning which we will speak.
Therefore in other kinds, that is to say, in history and in that kind
of argument which we call [Greek: epideiktikon], it seems good
that everything should be said after the example of Isocrates and
Theopompus, with that sort of period and rounding of a sentence that
the oration shall run on in a sort of circle, until it stops in
separate, perfect, and complete sentences. Therefore after this
_circumscriptio_, or _continuatio_, or _comprehensio_, or _ambitus_,
if we may so call it, was once introduced, there was no one of any
consideration who ever wrote an oration of that kind which was
intended only to give pleasure, and unconnected with judicial
proceedings or forensic contests, who did not reduce almost all his
sentences to a certain set form and rhythm. For, as his hearers are
men who have no fear that their own good faith is being attempted to
be undermined by the snare of a well-arranged oration, they are even
grateful to the orator for studying so much to gratify their ears.
LXII. But this kind of oratory is neither to be wholly appropriated
to forensic causes, nor is it entirely to be repudiated. For if
you constantly employ it, when it has produced weariness then even
unskilful people can recognise its character. Besides, it takes away
the indignation which is intended to be excited by the pleading; it
takes away the manly sensibility of the pleader; it wholly puts an
end to all truth and good faith. But since it ought to be employed at
times, first of all, we should see in what place; secondly, how long
it is to be maintained; and lastly, in how many ways it may be varied.
We must, then, employ a rhythmical oratory, if we have occasion either
to praise anything in an ornate style,--as we ourselves spoke in the
second book of our impeachment of Verres concerning the praise of
Sicily; and in the senate, of my own consulship; or a narration must
be delivered which requires more dignity than indignation,--as in the
fourth book of that same impeachment we spoke concerning the Ceres of
Enna, the Diana of Segeste, and the situation of Syracuse. Often
also when employed in amplifying a case, an oration is poured forth
harmoniously and volubly with the approbation of all men. That perhaps
we have never quite accomplished; but we have certainly very often
attempted it; as our perorations in many places show that we have, and
indeed that we have been very eager to effect it. But this is most
effective when the hearer is already blockaded, as it were, and taken
prisoner by the speaker. For he then no longer thinks of watching and
guarding against the orator, but he is already on his side; and wishes
him to proceed, admitting the force of his eloquence, and never
thinking of looking for anything with which to find fault.
But this style is not to be maintained long; I do not mean in the
peroration which it concludes, but in the other divisions of the
speech. For when the orator has employed those topics which I have
shown to be admissible, then the whole of his efforts must be
transferred to what the Greeks call, I know not why, [Greek: kommata]
and [Greek: kola], and which we may translate, though not very
correctly, "incisa" and "membra." For there cannot be well-known
names given to things which are not known; but when we use words in a
metaphorical sense, either for the sake of sweetness or because of the
poverty of the language, this result takes place in every art, that
when we have got to speak of that which, on account of our ignorance
of its existence, had no name at all previously, necessity compels
us either to coin a new word, or to borrow a name from something
resembling it.
LXIII. But we will consider hereafter in what way sentences ought to
be expressed in short clauses or members. At present we must explain
in how many ways those different conclusions and terminations may be
changed. Rhythm flows in from the beginning, at first more rapidly,
from the shortness of the feet employed, and afterwards more slowly as
they increase in length. Disputes require rapidity; slowness is better
suited to explanations. But a period is terminated in many ways; one
of which has gained especial favour in Asia, which is called the
_dichoreus_, when the two last feet are _chorei_, consisting each of
one long and one short syllable; for we must explain that the same
feet have different names given them by different people. Now that
dichoreus is not inherently defective as part of a clause, but in the
rhythm of an orator there is nothing so vicious as to have the same
thing constantly recurring. By itself now and then it sounds very
well, on which account we have the more reason to guard against
satiety. I was present when Caius Carbo, the son of Caius, a tribune
of the people, uttered these words in the assembly of the people:
"O Maree Druse, patrem appello."
Here are two clauses, each of two feet. Then he gave us some more
periods:
"Tu dicere solebas, sacram esse rempublicam."
Here each clause consists of three feet. Then comes the conclusion:
"Quicunque eam violavissent ab omnibus esse ei poenas persolutas."
Here is the dichoreus;--for it does not signify whether the last
syllable is long or short. Then comes,
"Patris dictum sapiens, temeritas filii comprobavit."
And this last dichoreus excited such an outcry as to be quite
marvellous. I ask, was it not the rhythm which caused it? Change the
order of the words; let them stand thus:
"Comprobavit filii temeritas:"
there will be no harm in that, though _temeritas_ consists of three
short syllables and one long one; which Aristotle considers as the
best sort of word to end a sentence, in which I do not agree with him.
But still the words are the same, and the meaning is the same. That is
enough for the mind, but not enough for the ears. But this ought not
to be done too often. For at first rhythm is acknowledged; presently
it wearies; afterwards, when the ease with which it is produced is
known, it is despised.
LXIV. But there are many little clauses which sound rhythmically and
agreeably. For there is the cretic, which consists of a long syllable,
then a short one, then a long; and there is its equivalent the paeon;
which is equal in time, but longer by one syllable; and which is
considered a very convenient foot to be used in prose, as it is of two
kinds. For it consists either of one long syllable and three short
ones, which rhythm is admirable at the beginning of a sentence, but
languid at the end; or of three short syllables and then the long one,
which the ancients consider the most musical foot of the two: I do not
object to it; though there are other feet which I prefer. Even the
spondee is not utterly to be repudiated; although, because it consists
of two long syllables, it appears somewhat dull and slow; still it
has a certain steady march not devoid of dignity; but much more is it
valuable in short clauses and periods; for then it makes up for the
fewness of the feet by its dignified slowness. But when I am speaking
of these feet as occurring in clauses, I do not speak of the one
foot which occurs at the end; I add (which however is not of much
consequence) the preceding foot, and very often even the foot before
that. Even the iambic, which consists of one short and one long
syllable; or that foot which is equal to the choreus, having three
short syllables, being therefore equal in time though not in the
number of syllables; or the dactyl, which consists of one long and two
short syllables, if it is next to the last foot, joins that foot very
trippingly, if it is a choreus or a spondee. For it never makes any
difference which of these two is the last foot of a sentence. But
these same three feet end a sentence very badly if one of them is
placed at the end, unless the dactyl comes at the end instead of a
cretic; for it does not signify whether the dactyl or the cretic comes
at the end, because it does not signify even in verse whether the last
syllable of all is long or short. Wherefore, whoever said that that
paeon was more suitable in which the last syllable was long, made a
great mistake; since it has nothing to do with the matter whether the
last syllable is long or not. And indeed the paeon, as having more
syllables than three, is considered by some people as a rhythm, and
not a foot at all. It is, as is agreed upon by all the ancients,
Aristotle, Theophrastus, Theodectes, and Ephorus, the most suitable
of all for an oration, either at the beginning or in the middle; they
think that it is very suitable for it at the end also; in which place
the cretic appears to me to be better. But a dochmiac consists of
five syllables, one short, two long, one short, and one long; as
thus:--_[)A]m[=i]c[=o]s t[)e]n[=e]s_; and is suitable for any part
of the speech, as long as it is used only once. If repeated or often
renewed it then makes the rhythm conspicuous and too remarkable. If
we use these changes, numerous and varied as they are, it will not be
seen how much of our rhythm is the result of study, and we shall avoid
wearying our hearers.
LXV. And because it is not only rhythm which makes a speech
rhythmical, but since that effect is produced also by the arrangement
of the words, and by a kind of neatness, as has been said before, it
may be understood by the arrangement when words are so placed that
rhythm does not appear to have been purposely aimed at, but to have
resulted naturally, as it is said by Crassus:--
"Nam ubi libido dominatur innocentiae leve praesidium est."
For here the order of the words produces rhythm without any apparent
design on the part of the orator. Therefore, the suitable and
rhythmical sentences which occur in the works of the ancients, I mean
Herodotus, and Thucydides, and all the writers of that age, were
produced, not by any deliberate pursuit of rhythm, but by the
arrangement of the words. For there are some forms of oratory in which
there is so much neatness, that rhythm unavoidably follows. For when
like is referred to like, or contrary opposed to contrary, or when
words which sound alike are compared to other words, whatever sentence
is wound up in that manner must usually sound rhythmically. And of
this kind of sentence we have already spoken and given instances, so
that this abundance of kinds enables a man to avoid always ending a
sentence in the same manner.
Nor are these rules so strict and precise that we are unable to relax
them when we wish to. It makes a great difference whether an oration
is rhythmical--that is to say, like rhythm--or whether it consists of
nothing but rhythm. If it is the latter, that is an intolerable fault;
if it is not the former, then it is unconnected, and barbarous, and
languid.
LXVI. But since it is not only not a frequent occurrence, but actually
even a rare one, that we ought to speak in compressed and rhythmical
periods, in serious or forensic causes, it appears to follow that we
ought to consider what these clauses and short members which I have
spoken of are. For in serious causes they occupy the greater part of
the speech. For a full and perfect period consists of four divisions,
which we call members, so as to fill the ears, and not be either
shorter or longer than is just sufficient. Although each of those
defects does happen sometimes, or indeed often, so that it is
necessary either to stop abruptly, or else to proceed further, lest
our brevity should appear to have cheated the ears of our hearers, or
our prolixity to have exhausted them. But I prefer a middle course;
for I am not speaking of verse, and oratory is not so much confined. A
full period, then, consists of four divisions, like hexameter verses.
In each of these verses, then, there are visible the links, as it
were, of the connected series which we unite in the conclusion. But if
we choose to speak in a succession of short clauses, we stop, and when
it is necessary, we easily and frequently separate ourselves from that
sort of march which is apt to excite dislike; but nothing ought to
be so rhythmical as this, which is the least visible and the most
efficacious. Of this kind is that sentence which was spoken by
Crassus:--
"Missos faciant patronos; ipsi prodeant."
If he had not paused before "ipsi prodeant," he would have at once
seen that an iambic had escaped him,--"prodeant ipsi" would sound in
every respect better. But at present I am speaking of the whole kind.
"Cur clandestinis consiliis nos oppugnant?
Cur de perfugis nostris copias comparant inter nos?"
The first two are such sentences as the Greeks call [Greek: kommata],
and we "incisa." The third is such as they term [Greek: kolon], and we
"membrum." Then comes a short clause; for a perfect conclusion is made
up of two verses, that is to say members, and falls into spondees. And
Crassus was very much in the habit of employing this termination, and
I myself have a good opinion of this style of speaking.
LXVII. But those sentiments which are delivered in short clauses, or
members, ought to sound very harmoniously, as in a speech of mine you
will find:--
"Domus tibi deerat? at habebas. Pecunia superabat? at egebas."
These four clauses are as concise as can be; but then come the two
following sentences uttered in members:--
"Incurristi amens in columnas: in alienos insanus insanîsti."
After these clauses everything is sustained by a longer class of
sentences, as if they were erected on these as their pedestal:--
"Depressam, caecam, jacentem domum pluris, quam te, et quam fortunas
tuas, aestimâsti."
It is ended with a dichoreus; but the next sentence terminates with a
double spondee. For in those feet which speakers should use at times
like little daggers, the very brevity makes the feet more free. For we
often must use them separately, often two together, and a part of a
foot may be added to each foot, but not often in combinations of
more than three. But an oration when delivered in brief clauses and
members, is very forcible in serious causes, especially when you
are accusing or refuting an accusation, as in my second Cornelian
speech:--
"O callidos homines! O rem excogitatam! O ingenia metuenda!"
Hitherto this is spoken in members. After that we spoke in short
clauses. Then again in members:--
"Testes dare volumus."
At last comes the conclusion, but one made up of two members, than
which nothing can be more concise:--
"Quem, quaeso, nostrûm fefellit, ita vos esse facturos?"
Nor is there any style of speaking more lively or more forcible than
that which strikes with two or three words, sometimes with single
words; very seldom with more than two or three, and among these
various clauses there is occasionally inserted a rhythmical period.
And Hegesias, who perversely avoided this usage, while seeking to
imitate Lysias, who is almost a second Demosthenes, dividing his
sentences into little bits, was more like a dancer than an orator. And
he, indeed, errs not less in his sentences than in his single words,
so that a man who knows him has no need to look about for some
one whom he may call foolish. But I have cited those sentences of
Crassus's and my own, in order that whoever chose might judge by his
own ears what was rhythmical even in the most insignificant portions
of a speech. And since we have said more about rhythmical oratory
than any one of those who have preceded us, we will now speak of the
usefulness of that style.
LXVIII. For speaking beautifully and like an orator is, O Brutus,
nothing else (as you, indeed, know better than any one) except
speaking with the most excellent sentiments and in the most carefully
selected language. And there is no sentiment which produces any fruit
to an orator, unless it is expressed in a suitable and polished
manner. Nor is there any brilliancy of words visible unless they
are carefully arranged; and rhythm it is which sets off both these
excellences. But rhythm (for it is well to repeat this frequently) is
not only not formed in a poetical manner, but even avoids poetry, and
is as unlike it as possible. Not but that rhythm is the same thing,
not only in the writings of orators and poets, but even in the
conversation of every one who speaks, and in every imaginable sound
which we can measure with our ears. But it is the order of the feet
which makes that which is uttered appear like an oration or like
a poem. And this, whether you choose to call it composition, or
perfection, or rhythm, must be employed if a man wishes to speak
elegantly, not only (as Aristotle and Theophrastus say) that the
discourse may not run on interminably like a river, but that it may
come to a stop as it ought, not because the speaker wants to take
breath, or because the copyist puts down a stop, but because it is
compelled to do so by the restrictions of rhythm, and also because a
compact style has much greater force than a loose one. For as we see
athletes, and in a similar manner gladiators, act cautiously, neither
avoiding nor aiming at anything with too much vehemence, (for
over-vehement motions can have no rule;) so that whatever they do in
a manner advantageous for their contest, may also have a graceful and
pleasing appearance; in like manner oratory does not strike a heavy
blow, unless the aim was a well-directed one; nor does it avoid the
attack of the adversary successfully, unless even when turning aside
the blow it is aware of what is becoming. And therefore the speeches
of those men who do not end their sentences rhythmically seem to me
like the motions of those whom the Greeks call [hapalaistrous]. And it
is so far from being the case, (as those men say who, either from a
want of proper instructors, or from the slowness of their intellect,
or from an unwillingness to exert due industry, have not arrived at
this skill,) that oratory is enervated by too much attention to the
arrangement of words, that without it there can be no energy and no
force.
LXIX. But the matter is one which requires much practice, lest we
should do anything like those men who, though they have aimed at this
style, have not attained it; so that we must not openly transpose our
words in order to make our language sound better; a thing which Lucius
Coelius Antipater, in the opening of his history of the Punic War,
promises not to do unless it should be absolutely necessary. Oh the
simple man! to conceal nothing from us; and at the same time wise,
inasmuch as he is prepared to comply with necessity. But still this is
being too simple. But in writing or in sober discussion the excuse of
necessity is not admissible, for there is no such thing as necessity;
and if there were, it would still be necessary not to admit it. And
this very man who demands this indulgence of Laelius, to whom he is
writing, and to whom he is excusing himself, uses this transposition
of words, and yet does not fill up and conclude his sentences any the
more skilfully. Among others, and especially among the Asiatics, who
are perfect slaves to rhythm, you may find many superfluous words
inserted, as if on purpose to fill up vacancies in rhythm. There
are men also, who through that fault, which originated chiefly with
Hegesias, by breaking up abruptly, and cutting short their rhythm,
have fallen into an abject style of speaking, very much like that of
the Sicilians. There is a third kind adopted by those brothers, the
chiefs of the Asiatic rhetoricians, Hierocles and Maecles, men who are
not at all to be despised, in my opinion at least. For although they
do not quite keep to the real form of oratory and to the principles
of the Attic orators, still they make amends for this fault by their
ability and fluency. Still there was no variety in them, because
nearly all their sentences were terminated in one manner.
But a man who avoids all these faults, so as neither to transpose
words in such a manner that every one must see that it is done on
purpose, nor cramming in unnecessary words, as if to fill up leaks,
nor aiming at petty rhythm, so as to mutilate and emasculate his
sentences, and who does not always stick to one kind of rhythm without
any variation, such a man avoids nearly every fault. For we have said
a good deal on the subject of perfections, to which these manifest
defects are contrary.
LXX. But how important a thing it is to speak harmoniously, you may
know by experience if you dissolve the carefully-contrived arrangement
of a skilful orator by a transposition of his words; for then the
whole thing would be spoilt, as in this instance of our language in
the Cornelian oration, and in all the following sentences:--
"Neque me divitiae movent, quibus omnes Africanos et Laelios milt,
venalitii mercatoresque superârunt."
Change the order a little, so that the sentence shall stand,
"Multi superârunt mercatores venalitiique,"
and the whole effect is lost. And the subsequent sentences:
"Neque vestis, ant caelatum aurum et argentum, quo nostros veteres
Marcellos Maximosque multi eunuchi e Syriâ aegyptoque vicerunt."
Alter the order of the words, so that they shall stand,
"Vicerunt eunuchi e Syriâ aegyptoque."
Take this third sentence:--
"Neque vero ornamenta ista villarum, quibus Lucium Paullum et Lucium
Mummium, qui rebus his urbem Italiamque omnem referserunt, ab aliquo
video perfacile Deliaco aut Syro potuisse superari."
Place the words thus:--
"Potuisse superari ab aliquo Syro aut Deliaco."
Do you not see that by making this slight change in the order of the
words, the very same words (though the sense remains as it was before)
lose all their effect the moment they are disjoined from those which
were best suited to them?
Or if you take any carelessly-constructed sentence of any unpolished
orator, and reduce it into proper shape, by making a slight alteration
in the order of his words, then that will be made harmonious which
was before loose and unmethodical Come now, take a sentence from the
speech of Gracchus before the censors:--
"Obesse non potest, quin ejusdem hominis sit, probos improbare, qui
improbos probet."
How much better would it have been if he had said,
"Quin ejusdem hominis sit, qui improbos probet, probos improbare!"
No one ever had any objection to speaking in this manner; and no one
was ever able to do so who did not do it. But those who have spoken in
a different manner have not been able to arrive at this excellence.
And so on a sudden they have set up for orators of the Attic school.
As if Demosthenes was a man of Tralles; but even his thunderbolts
would not have shone so if they had not been pointed by rhythm.
LXXI. But if there be any one who prefers a loose style of oratory,
let him cultivate it; keeping in view this principle,--if any one were
to take to pieces the shield of Phidias, he would destroy the beauty
of the collective arrangement, not the exquisite workmanship of each
fragment: and as in Thucydides I only miss the roundness of his
periods; all the graces of style are there. But these men, when
they compose a loose oration, in which there is no matter, and no
expression which is not a low one, appear to me to be taking to
pieces, not a shield, but, as the proverb says, (which, though but a
low one, is still very apt,) only a broom. And in order that there may
be no mistake as to their contempt of this style which I am praising,
let them write something either in the style of Isocrates, or in that
which Aeschines or Demosthenes employs, and then I will believe that
they have not shrunk from this style out of despair of being able to
arrive at it, but that they have avoided it deliberately on account of
their bad opinion of it: or else I will find a man myself who may be
willing to be bound by this condition,--either to say or write, in
whichever language you please, in the style which those men prefer.
For it is easier to disunite what is connected than to connect what is
disjointedly strung together.
However, the fact is, (to be brief in explaining my real opinion,) to
speak in a well-arranged and suitable manner without good ideas is to
act like a madman. But to speak in a sententious manner, without any
order or method in one's language, is to behave like a child: but
still it is childishness of that sort, that those who employ it cannot
be considered stupid men, and indeed may often be accounted wise men.
And if a man is contented with that sort of character, why let him
speak in that way. But the eloquent man, who, if his subject will
allow it, ought to excite not only approbation, but admiration and
loud applause, ought to excel in everything to such a degree, that
he should think it discreditable that anything should be beheld or
listened to more gladly than his speech.
You have here, O Brutus, my opinion respecting an orator. If you
approve of it, follow it; or else adhere to your own, if you have
formed any settled opinion on the subject. And I shall not be offended
with you, nor will I affirm that this opinion of mine which I have
asserted so positively in this book is more correct than yours; for it
is possible not only that my opinion should be different from yours,
but even that my own may be different at different times. And not
only in this matter, which has reference to gaining the assent of the
common people and to the pleasure of the ears, which are two of the
most unimportant points as far as judgment is concerned; but even in
the most important affairs, I have never found anything firmer to take
hold of, or to guide my judgment by, than the extremity of probability
as it appeared to me, when actual truth was hidden or obscure.
But I wish that you, if you do not approve entirely of the things
which I have urged in this treatise, would believe either that I
proposed to myself a work of too great difficulty for me to accomplish
properly, or else that, while wishing to comply with your request, I
undertook the impudent task of writing this, from being ashamed to
refuse you.
THE TREATISE OF M. T. CICERO ON TOPICS,
DEDICATED TO CAIUS TREBATIUS.
* * * * *
THE ARGUMENT.
This treatise was written a short time before the events which gave
rise to the first Philippic. Cicero obtained an honorary lieutenancy,
with the intention of visiting his son at Athens; on his way towards
Rhegium he spent an evening at Velia with Trebatius, where he began
this treatise, which he finished at sea, before he arrived in Greece.
It is little more than an abstract of what had been written by
Aristotle on the same subject, and which Trebatius had begged him to
explain to him; and Middleton says, that as he had not Aristotle's
essay with him, he drew this up from memory, and he appears to have
finished it in a week, as it was the nineteenth of July that he was
at Velia, and he sent this work to Trebatius from Rhegium on the
twenty-seventh. He himself apologizes to Trebatius in the letter which
accompanied it, (Ep. Fam. vii. 19,) for its obscurity, which however,
he says, was unavoidably caused by the nature of the subject.
I. We had begun to write, O Caius Trebatius, on subjects more
important and more worthy of these books, of which we have published a
sufficient number in a short time, when your request recalled me from
my course. For when you were with me in my Tusculan villa, and when
each of us was separately in the library opening such books as were
suited to our respective tastes and studies, you fell on a treatise of
Aristotle's called the Topics; which he has explained in many books;
and, excited by the title, you immediately asked me to explain to you
the doctrines laid down in those books. And when I had explained them
to you, and told you that the system for the discovery of arguments
was contained in them, in order that we might arrive, without making
any mistake, at the system on which they rested by the way discovered
by Aristotle, you urged me, modestly indeed, as you do everything,
but still in a way which let me plainly see your eagerness to be
gratified, to make you master of the whole of Aristotle's method.
And when I exhorted you, (not so much for the sake of saving myself
trouble, as because I really thought it advantageous for you
yourself,) either to read them yourself, or to get the whole system
explained to you by some learned rhetorician, you told me that you had
already tried both methods. But the obscurity of the subject deterred
you from the books; and that illustrious rhetorician to whom you had
applied answered you, I suppose, that he knew nothing of these rules
of Aristotle. And this I was not so much surprised at, namely, that
that philosopher was not known to the rhetorician, inasmuch as he is
not much known even to philosophers, except to a very few.
And such ignorance is the less excusable in them, because they
not only ought to have been allured by those things which he has
discovered and explained, but also by the incredible richness and
sweetness of his eloquence. I could not therefore remain any longer in
your debt, since you often made me this request, and yet appeared to
fear being troublesome to me, (for I could easily see that,) lest I
should appear unjust to him who is the very interpreter of the law.
In truth, as you had often written many things for me and mine, I was
afraid that if I delayed obliging you in this, it would appear very
ungrateful or very arrogant conduct on my part. But while we were
together, you yourself are the best witness of how I was occupied; but
after I left you, on my way into Greece, when neither the republic
nor any friends were occupying my attention, and when I could not
honourably remain amid the armies, (not even if I could have done so
safely,) as soon as I came to Velia and beheld your house and your
family, I was reminded of this debt; and would no longer be wanting
to your silent request. Therefore, as I had no books with me, I have
written these pages on my voyage, from memory; and I have sent them to
you while on my journey, in order that by my diligence in obeying your
commands, I might rouse you to a recollection of my affairs, although
you do not require a reminder. But, however, it is time to come to the
object which we have undertaken.
II. As every careful method of arguing has two divisions,--one of
discovering, one of deciding,--Aristotle was, as it appears to me, the
chief discoverer of each. But the Stoics also have devoted some pains
to the latter, for they have diligently considered the methods of
carrying on a discussion by that science which they call dialectics;
but the art of discovering arguments, which is called topics, and
which was more serviceable for practical use, and certainly prior in
the order of nature, they have wholly disregarded. But we, since both
parts are of the greatest utility, and since we intend to examine
each if we have time, will now begin with that which is naturally the
first.
As therefore the discovery of those things which are hidden is easy,
if the place where they are hidden is pointed out and clearly marked;
so, when we wish to examine any argument, we ought to know the
topics,--for so they are called by Aristotle, being, as it were,
seats from which arguments are derived. Therefore we may give as a
definition, that a topic is the seat of an argument, and that an
argument is a reason which causes men to believe a thing which would
otherwise be doubtful. But of those topics in which arguments are
contained, some dwell on that particular point which is the subject of
discussion; some are derived from external circumstances. When derived
from the subject itself, they proceed at times from it taken as a
whole, at times from its parts, at times from some sign, and at others
from things which are disposed in some manner or other towards the
subject under discussion; but those topics are derived from external
circumstances which are at a distance and far removed from the same
subject.
But a definition is employed with reference to the entire matter under
discussion which unfolds the matter which is the subject of inquiry as
if it had been previously enveloped in mystery. The formula of that
argument is of this sort: "Civil law is equity established among men
who belong to the same city, for the purpose of insuring each man in
the possession of his property and rights: and the knowledge of this
equity is useful: therefore the knowledge of civil law is useful."
Then comes the enumeration of the parts, which is dealt with in this
manner: "If a slave has not been declared free either by the censor,
or by the praetor's rod, or by the will of his master, he is not free:
but none of those things is the case: therefore he is not free." Then
comes the sign; when some argument is derived from the meaning of a
word, in this way:--As the Aelian Sentian law orders an assiduus[63] to
support an assiduus, it orders a rich man to support a rich man, for a
rich man is an assiduus, called so, as Aelius says, from _asse dando_.
III. Arguments are also derived from things which bear some kind of
relation to that which is the object of discussion. But this kind is
distributed under many heads; for we call some connected with one
another either by nature, or by their form, or by their resemblance to
one another, or by their differences, or by their contrariety to
one another, or by adjuncts, or by their antecedents, or by their
consequents, or by what is opposed to each of them, or by causes, or
by effects, or by a comparison with what is greater, or equal, or
less.
Arguments are said to be connected together which are derived from
words of the same kind. But words are of the same kind which,
originating from one word, are altered in various ways; as, "_sapiens,
sapienter, sapientia_." The connexion of these words is called [Greek:
suxugia]; from which arises an argument of this kind: "If the land is
common, every one has a right to feed his cattle on it."
An argument is derived from the kind of word, thus: "Since all the
money has been bequeathed to the woman, it is impossible that
that ready money which was left in the house should not have been
bequeathed. For the species is never separated from the genus as long
as it retains its name: but ready money retains the name of money:
therefore it is plain that it was bequeathed."
An argument is derived from the species, which we may sometimes name,
in order that it may be more clearly understood; in this manner: "If
the money was bequeathed to Fabia by her husband, on the supposition
that she was the mother of his family; if she was not his wife, then
nothing is due to her." For the wife is the genus: there are two kinds
of wife; one being those mothers of a family which become wives by
_coemptio_; the other kind are those which are only considered wives:
and as Fabia was one of those last, it appears that nothing was
bequeathed to her.
An argument is derived from similarity, in this way: "If those houses
have fallen down, or got into disrepair, a life-interest in which is
bequeathed to some one, the heir is not bound to restore or to repair
them, any more than he is bound to replace a slave, if a slave, a
life-interest in whom has been bequeathed to some one, has died."
An argument is derived from difference, thus: "It does not follow, if
a man has bequeathed to his wife all the money which belonged to him,
that therefore he bequeathed all which was down in his books as due to
him; for there is a great difference whether the money is laid up in
his strong box, or set down as due in his accounts."
An argument is derived from contraries, thus: "That woman to whom her
husband has left a life-interest in all his property, has no right, if
his cellars of wine and oil are left full, to think that they belong
to her; for the use of them is what has been bequeathed to her, and
not the misuse: and they are contrary to one another."
IV. An argument is derived from adjuncts, thus: "If a woman has made
a will who has never given up her liberty by marriage, it does not
appear that possession ought to be given by the edict of the praetor
to the legatee under that will; for it is added, that in that case
possession would seem proper to be given by that same edict, according
to the wills of slaves, or exiles, or infants."
Arguments are derived from antecedents, and consequents, and
contradictories, in this way. From antecedents: "If a divorce has been
caused by the fault of the husband, although the woman has demanded
it, still she is not bound to leave any of her dowry for her
children."
From consequents: "If a woman having married a man with whom she had
no right of intermarriage, has demanded a divorce, since the children
who have been born do not follow their father, the father has no right
to keep back any portion of the woman's dowry."
From contradictories: "If the head of a family has left to his wife in
reversion after his son the life-interest in the female slaves, and
has made no mention of any other reversionary heir, if the son dies,
the woman shall not lose her life-interest. For that which has once
been given to any one by will, cannot be taken away from the
legatee to whom it has been given without his consent; for it is a
contradiction for any one to have a right to receive a thing, and yet
to be forced to give it up against his will."
An argument is derived from efficient causes, in this way: "All men
have a right to add to a common party wall, a wall extending its whole
length, either solid or on arches; but if any one in demolishing the
common wall should promise to pay for any damages which may arise from
his action, he will not be bound to pay for any damage sustained or
caused by such arches: for the damage has been done, not by the party
which demolished the common wall, but in consequence of some fault in
the work, which was built in such a manner as to be unable to support
itself."
An argument is derived from what has been done, in this way: "When a
woman becomes the wife of a man, everything which has belonged to
the woman now becomes the property of the husband under the name of
dowry."
But in the way of comparison there are many kinds of valid arguments;
in this way: "That which is valid in a greater affair, ought to be
valid in a less: so that, if the law does not regulate the limits in
the city, still more will it not compel any one to turn off the water
in the city." Again, on the other hand: "Whatever is valid in a
smaller matter ought to be valid also in a greater one. One may
convert the preceding example." Also, "That which is valid in a
parallel case ought to be valid in this which is a parallel case." As,
"Since the usurpation of a farm depends on a term of two years, the
law with respect to houses ought to be the same." But in the law
houses are not mentioned, and so they are supposed to come under the
same class as all other things, the property in which is determined by
one year's use. Equity then must prevail, which requires similar laws
in similar cases.[64]
But those arguments which are derived from external circumstances
are deduced chiefly from authority. Therefore the Greeks call
argumentations of that kind [Greek: atechuoi], that is, devoid of
art. As if you were to answer in this way:--"In the case of some one
building a roof for the purpose of covering a common wall, Publius
Scaevola asserted that there was no right of carrying that roof so
far that the water which ran off it should run on to any part of any
building which did not belong to the owner of the roof. This I affirm
to be law."
V. By these topics then which have been explained, a means of
discovering and proving every sort of argument is supplied, as if they
were elements of argument. Have we then said enough up to this point?
I think we have, as far at least as you, an acute man and one deeply
skilled in law, are concerned. But since I have to deal with a man who
is very greedy when the feast in question is one of learning, I will
prosecute the subject so that I will rather put forth something more
than is necessary, than allow you to depart unsatisfied. As, then,
each separate one of those topics which I have mentioned has its own
proper members, I will follow them out as accurately as I can; and
first of all I will speak of the definition itself.
Definition is a speech which explains that which is defined. But of
definitions there are two principal kinds: one, of those things which
exist; the other, of those which are understood. The things which I
call existing are those which can be seen or touched; as a farm, a
house, a wall, a gutter, a slave, an ox, furniture, provisions, and so
on; of which kind of things some require at times to be defined by us.
Those things, again, I say have no existence, which are incapable of
being touched or proved, but which can be perceived by the mind
and understood; as if you were to define usucaption, guardianship,
nationality, or relationship; all, things which have no body, but
which nevertheless have a certain conformation plainly marked out and
impressed upon the mind, which I call the notion of them. They often
require to be explained by definition while we are arguing about them.
And again, there are definitions by partition, and others by division:
by partition, when the matter which is to be defined is separated, as
it were, into different members; as if any one were to say that civil
law was that which consists of laws, resolutions of the senate,
precedents, the authority of lawyers, the edicts of magistrates,
custom, and equity. But a definition by division embraces every form
which comes under the entire genus which is defined; in this way:
"Alienation is the surrender of anything which is a man's private
property, or a legal cession of it to men who are able by law to avail
themselves of such cession."
VI. There are also other kinds of definitions, but they have no
connexion with the subject of this book; we have only got to say what
is the manner of expressing a definition. This, then, is what the
ancients prescribe: that when you have taken those things which are
common to the thing which you wish to define with other things, you
must pursue them till you make out of them altogether some peculiar
property which cannot be transferred to anything else. As this: "An
inheritance is money." Up to this point the definition is common, for
there are many kinds of money. Add what follows: "which by somebody's
death comes to some one else." It is not yet a definition, for
money belonging to the dead can be possessed in many ways without
inheritance. Add one word, "lawfully." By this time the matter will
appear distinguished from general terms, so that the definition may
stand thus:--"An inheritance is money which by somebody's death has
lawfully come to some one else." It is not enough yet. Add, "without
being either bequeathed by will, or held as some one else's property."
The definition is complete. Again, take this:--"Those are _gentiles_
who are of the same name as one another." That is insufficient. "And
who are born of noble blood." Even that is not enough. "Who have never
had any ancestor in the condition of a slave." Something is still
wanting. "Who have never parted with their franchise." This, perhaps,
may do. For I am not aware that Scaevola, the pontiff, added anything
to this definition. And this principle holds good in each kind of
definition, whether the thing to be defined is something which exists,
or something which is understood.
VII. But we have shown now what is meant by partition, and by
division. But it is necessary to explain more clearly wherein
they differ. In partition, there are as it were members; as of a
body--head, shoulders, hands, sides, legs, feet, and so on. In
division there are forms which the Greeks call [Greek: ideae]; our
countrymen who treat of such subjects call them species. And it is not
a bad name, though it is an inconvenient one if we want to use it in
different cases. For even if it were Latin to use such words, I
should not like to say _specierum_ and _speciebus_. And we have often
occasion to use these cases. But I have no such objection to saying
_formarum_ and _formis_; and as the meaning of each word is the same,
I do not think that convenience of sound is wholly to be neglected.
Men define genus and species or form in this manner:--"Genus is
a notion relating to many differences. Species is a notion, the
difference of which can be referred to the head and as it were
fountain of the genus." I mean by notion that which the Greeks call
sometimes [Greek: _ennoia_], and sometimes [Greek: _enoprolaepsis_].
It is knowledge implanted and previously acquired of each separate
thing, but one which requires development. Species, then, are those
forms into which genus is divided without any single one being
omitted; as if any one were to divide justice into law, custom, and
equity. A person who thinks that species are the same things as parts,
is confounding the art; and being perplexed by some resemblance,
he does not distinguish with sufficient acuteness what ought to be
distinguished. Often, also, both orators and poets define by metaphor,
relying on some verbal resemblance, and indeed not without giving a
certain degree of pleasure. But I will not depart from your examples
unless I am actually compelled to do so.
Aquillius, then, my colleague and intimate friend, was accustomed,
when there was any discussion about shores, (all of which you lawyers
insist upon it are public,) to define them to men who asked to whom
that which was shore belonged, in this way: "Wherever the waves
dashed;" that is, as if a man were to define youth as the flower of
a man's age, or old age as the setting of life. Using a metaphor, he
departs from the words proper to the matter in hand and to his own
art. This is enough as to definition. Let us now consider the other
points.
VIII. But we must employ partition in such a manner as to omit no part
whatever. As if you wish to partition guardianship, you would act
ignorantly if you were to omit any kind. But if you were partitioning
off the different formulas of stipulations or judicial decisions, then
it is not a fault to omit something in a matter which is of boundless
extent. But in division it is a fault; for there is a settled number
of species which are subordinate to each genus. The distribution of
the parts is often more interminable still, like the drawing streams
from a fountain. Therefore in the art of an orator, when the genus
of a question is once laid down, the number of its species is added
absolutely; but when rules are given concerning the embellishments of
words and sentences, which are called [Greek: _schaemata_], the case
is different; for the circumstances are more infinite: so that it may
be understood from this also what the difference is which we assert to
exist between partition and division. For although the words appear
nearly equivalent to one another still, because the things are
different, the expressions are also established as not synonymous to
one another.
Many arguments are also derived from observation, and that is when
they are deduced from the meaning of a word, which the Greeks call
[Greek: _etumologia_]; or as we might translate it, word for word,
_veriloquium_. But we, while avoiding the novel appearance of a word
which is not very suitable, call this kind of argument _notatio_,
because words are the notes by which we distinguish things. And
therefore Aristotle calls the same source of argument [Greek:
_sunbolou_], which is equivalent to the Latin _nota_. But when it is
known what is meant we need not be so particular about the name. In
a discussion then, many arguments are derived from words by means
of observation; as when the question is asked, what is a
_postliminium_--(I do not mean what are the objects to which this word
applies, for that would be division, which is something of this sort:
"_Postliminium_ applies to a man, a ship, a mule with panniers, a
horse, a mare who is accustomed to be bridled")--but when the meaning
of the word itself, _postliminium_, is asked, and when the word itself
is observed. And in this our countryman, Servius, as it seems, thinks
that there is nothing to be observed except _post_, and he insists
upon it that _liminium_ is a mere extension of the word; as in
_finitimus, legitimus, ceditimus, timus_ has no more meaning than
_tullius_ has in _meditullius_.
But Scaevola, the son of Publius Scaeaevola, thinks the word is a
compound one, so that it is made up of _post_ and _limen_. So that
those things which have been alienated from us, when they have come
into the possession of our enemies, and, as it were, departed from
their own threshold, then when they have returned behind that same
threshold, appear to have returned _postliminio_. By which definition
even the cause of Mancinus may be defended by saying that he returned
_postliminio_,--that he was not surrendered, inasmuch as he was not
received. For that no surrender and no gift can be understood to have
taken place if there has been no reception of it.
IX. We next come to that topic which is derived from those things
which are disposed in some way or other to that thing which is the
subject of discussion. And I said just now that it was divided into
many parts. And the first topic is derived from combination, which the
Greeks call [Greek: sizugia], being a kindred thing to observation,
which we have just been discussing, as, if we were only to understand
that to be rain-water which we saw to have been collected from rain,
Mucius would come, who, because the words _pluna_ and _pluendo_ were
akin, would say that all water ought to be kept out which had been
increased by raining. But when an argument is derived from a genus,
then it will not be necessary to trace it back to its origin, we may
often stop on this side of that point, provided that which is deduced
is higher than that for which it is deduced, as, "Rain water in its
ultimate genus is that which descends from heaven and is increased by
showers," but in reference to its more proximate sense, under which
the right of keeping it off is comprised, the genus is, mischievous
rain water. The subordinate species of that genus are waters which
injure through a natural defect of the place, or those which are
injurious on account of the works of man: for one of these kinds may
be restrained by an arbitrator, but not the other.
Again, this argumentation is handled very advantageously, which is
derived from a species when you pursue all the separate parts by
tracing them back to the whole, in this way "If that is _dolus malus_
when one thing is aimed at, and another pretended," we may enumerate
the different modes in which that can be done, and then under some one
of them we may range that which we are trying to prove has been done
_dolo malo_. And that kind of argument is usually accounted one of the
most irrefragable of all.
X. The next thing is similarity, which is a very extensive topic, but
one more useful for orators and for philosophers than for men of
your profession. For although all topics belong to every kind of
discussion, so as to supply arguments for each, still they occurs more
abundantly in discussions on some subjects, and more sparingly in
others. Therefore the genera are known to you, but when you are to
employ them the questions themselves will instruct you. For there are
resemblances which by means of comparisons arrive at the point they
aim at, in this manner. "If a guardian is bound to behave with good
faith, and a partner, and any one to whom you have entrusted anything,
and any one who has undertaken a trust then so ought an agent." This
argument, arriving at the point at which it aims by a comparison of
many instances, is called induction, which in Greek is called [Greek:
_ipago_]. and it is the kind of argument which Socrates employed a
great deal in his discourses.
Another kind of resemblance is obtained by comparison, when one thing
is compared to some other single thing, and like to like, in this way
"As if in any city there is a dispute as to boundaries because the
boundaries of fields appear more extensive than those of cities, you
may find it impossible to bring an arbitrator to settle the question
of boundaries, so if rain water is injurious in a city, since the
whole matter is one more for country magistrates, you may not be
able to bring an arbitrator to settle the question of keeping off
rain-water" Again, from the same topic of resemblance, examples are
derived, as, "Crassus in Cunus's trial used many examples, speaking of
the man who by his will had appointed his heir in such a manner, that
if he had had a son born within ten months of his death, and that son
had died before coming into possession of the property held in trust
for him, the revisionary heir would succeed to the inheritance.
And the enumeration of precedents which Crassus brought forward
prevailed". And you are accustomed to use this style of argument very
frequently in replies. Even fictitious examples have all the force of
real ones, but they belong rather to the orator than to you lawyers,
although you also do use them sometimes, but in this way. "Suppose a
man had given a slave a thing which a slave is by law incapable of
receiving, is it on that account the act of the man who received it?
or has he, who gave that present to his slave on that account taken
any obligations on himself?" And in this kind of argument orators and
philosophers are allowed to make even dumb things talk, so that the
dead man be raised from the shades below, or that anything which
intrinsically is absolutely impossible, may, for the sake of adding
force to the argument, or diminishing, be spoken of as real and that
figure is called hyperbole. And they may say other marvellous things,
but theirs is a wider field. Still, out of the same topics, as I have
said before, arguments are derived for the most important and the most
trivial inquiries.
XI After similarity there follows difference between things, which is
as different as possible from the preceding topic, still it is the
same art which finds out resemblances and dissimilarities. These are
instances of the same sort--"If you have contracted a debt to a woman,
you can pay her without having recourse to a trustee, but what you
owe to a minor, whether male or female; you cannot pay in the same
manner."
The next topic is one which is derived from contraries. But the genera
of contraries are several. One is of such things as differ in the same
kind; as wisdom and jolly. But those things are said to be in the same
kind, which, when they are proposed, are immediately met by certain
contraries, as if placed opposite to them: as slowness is contrary to
rapidity, and not weakness. From which contraries such arguments as
these are deduced:--"If we avoid folly, let us pursue wisdom; and if
we avoid wickedness, let us pursue goodness." These things, as they
are contrary qualities in the same class, are called opposites. For
there are other contraries, which we may call in Latin, _privantia_,
and which the Greeks call [Greek: _steraetika_]. For the preposition
_in_ deprives the word of that force which it would have if _in_ were
not prefixed; as, "dignity, indignity--humanity, inhumanity," and
other words of the same kind, the manner of dealing with which is
the same as that of dealing with other kinds which I have called
opposites. For there are also other kinds or contraries; as those
which are compared to something or other; as, "twofold and simple;
many and few; long and short; greater and less." There are also those
very contrary things which are called negatives, which the Greeks call
[Greek: _steraetika_]: as, "If this is the case, that is not." For
what need is there for an instance? only let it be understood that in
seeking for an argument it is not every contrary which is suitable to
be opposed to another.
XII. But I gave a little while ago an instance drawn from adjuncts;
showing that many things are added as accessories, which ought to
be admitted, if we decided that possession ought to be given by the
praetor's edict, in compliance with the will which that person made
who had no right whatever to make a will. But this topic has more
influence in conjectural causes, which are frequent in courts, of
justice, when we are inquiring either what is, or what has been, or
what is likely to be, or what possibly may happen. And the form of the
topic itself is as follows. But this topic reminds us to inquire what
happened before the transaction of which we are speaking, or at the
same time with the transaction, or after the transaction. "This has
nothing to do with the law, you had better apply to Cicero," our
friend Gallus used to say, if any one brought him any cause which
required an inquiry into matters of fact. But you will prefer that no
topic of the art which I have begun to treat of should be omitted
by me, lest if you should think that nothing was to be written here
except what had reference to yourself, you should seem to be too
selfish. This then is for the most part an oratorical topic; not only
not much suited to lawyers, but not even to philosophers. For the
circumstances which happened before the matter in question are
inquired into, such as any preparation, any conferences, any place,
any prearranged convivial meeting. And the circumstances which
happened at the same time with the matter in question, are the noise
of footfalls, the noise of men, the shadow of a body, or anything of
that sort. The circumstances subsequent to the matter in question are,
blushing, paleness, trepidation, or any other tokens of agitation
or consciousness; and besides these, any such fact as a fire
extinguished, a bloody sword, or any circumstance which can excite a
suspicion of such an act.
XIII. The next topic is one peculiar to dialecticians; derived from
consequents, and antecedents, and inconsistencies; and this one is
very different from that drawn from differences. For adjuncts, of
which we were speaking just now, do not always exist, but consequents
do invariably. I call those things consequents which follow an
action of necessity. And the same rule holds as to antecedents and
inconsistencies; for whatever precedes each thing, that of necessity
coheres with that theme; and whatever is inconsistent with it is of
such a nature that it can never cohere with it. As then this topic is
distributed in three divisions, into consequence, antecession, and
inconsistency, there is one single topic to help us find the argument,
but a threefold way of dealing with it. For what difference does it
make, when you have once assumed that the ready money is due to the
woman to whom all the money has been bequeathed, whether you conclude
your argument in this way:--"If coined money is money, it has been
bequeathed to the woman; but coined money is money; therefore it has
been bequeathed to her;"--or in this way: "If ready money has not been
bequeathed to her, then ready money is not money; but ready money is
money; therefore it has been bequeathed to her;"--or in this way: "The
cases of money not having been bequeathed, and of ready money not
having been bequeathed, are identical; but money was bequeathed
to her; therefore ready money was bequeathed to her?" But the
dialecticians call that conclusion of the argument in which, when you
have first made an assumption, that which is connected with it follows
as a consequence of the assumption, the first mood of the conclusion;
and when, because you have denied the consequence, it follows that
that also to which it was a consequence must be denied also, that is
the second mood. But when you deny some things in combination, (and
then another negation is added to them,) and from these things you
assume something, so that what remains is also done away with, that is
called the third mood of the conclusion. From this are derived those
results of the rhetoricians drawn from contraries, which they call
enthymemes. Not that every sentence may not be legitimately called
an enthymeme; but, as Homer on account of his preeminence has
appropriated the general name of poet to himself as his own among all
the Greeks; so, though every sentence is an enthymeme, still, because
that which is made up of contraries appears the most acute argument of
the kind, that alone has possessed itself of the general name as its
own peculiar distinction. Its kinds are these:--"Can you fear this
man, and not fear that one?"--"You condemn this woman, against whom
you bring no accusation; and do you say that this other one deserves
punishment, whom you believe to deserve reward?"--"That which you do
know is no good; that which you do not know is a great hindrance to
you."
XIV. This kind of disputing is very closely connected with the mode
of discussion adopted by you lawyers in reply, and still more closely
with that adopted by philosophers, as they share with the orators
in the employment of that general conclusion which is drawn from
inconsistent sentences, which is called by dialecticians the third
mood, and by rhetoricians an enthymeme. There are many other
moods used by the rhetoricians, which consist of disjunctive
propositions:--"Either this or that is the case; but this is the case;
then that is not the case." And again:--"Either this or that is the
case; but this is not the case; then that is the case." And these
conclusions are valid, because in a disjunctive proposition only one
alternative can be true. And from those conclusions which I have
mentioned above, the former is called by the dialecticians the
fourth mood, and the latter the fifth. Then they add a negation of
conjunctive propositions; as, "It is not both this and that; but it is
this; therefore it is not that." This is the sixth mood. The seventh
is, "It is not both this and that; but it is not this; therefore it is
that." From these moods innumerable conclusions are derived, in which
nearly the whole science of dialectics consists. But even those which
I have now explained are not necessary for this present discussion.
XV. The next topic is drawn from efficient circumstances which are
called causes; and the next from the results produced by these
efficient causes. I have already given instances of these, as of the
other topics, and those too drawn from civil law; but these have a
wider application.
There are then two kinds of causes; one which of its own force to a
certainty produces that effect which is subordinate to it; as, "Fire
burns;" the other is that which has no nature able to produce the
effect in question, though still that effect cannot be produced
without it; as, if any one were to say, that "brass was the cause of a
statue; because a statue cannot be made without it." Now of this kind
of causes which are indispensable to a thing being done, some are
quiet some passive, some, as it were, senseless; as, place, time,
materials, tools, and other things of the same sort. But some exhibit
a sort of preparatory process towards the production of the effect
spoken of; and some of themselves do contribute some aid to it;
although it is not indispensable; as meeting may have supplied
the cause to love; love to crime. From this description of causes
depending on one another in infinite series, is derived the doctrine
of fate insisted on by the Stoics. And as I have thus divided the
genera of causes, without which nothing can be effected, so also the
genera of the efficient causes can be divided in the same manner. For
there are some causes which manifestly produce the effect, without any
assistance from any quarter; others which require external aid; as for
instance, wisdom alone by herself makes men wise; but whether she is
able alone to make men happy is a question.
XVI. Wherefore, when any cause efficient as to some particular end has
inevitably presented itself in a discussion, it is allowable without
any hesitation to conclude that what that cause must inevitably effect
is effected. But when the cause is of such a nature that it does not
inevitably effect the result, then the conclusion which follows is
not inevitable And that description of causes which has an inevitable
effect does not usually engender mistakes; but this description,
without which a thing cannot take place, does often cause perplexity.
For it does not follow, because sons cannot exist without parents,
that there was therefore any unavoidable cause in the parents to have
children. This, therefore, without which an effect cannot be produced,
must be carefully separated from that by which it is certainly
produced. For that is like--
"Would that the lofty pine on Pelion's brow
Had never fall'n beneath the woodman's axe!"
For if the beam of fir had never fallen to the ground, that Argo
would not have been built; and yet there was not in the beams any
unavoidably efficient power. But when
"The fork'd and fiery bolt of Jove"
was hurled at Ajax's vessel, that ship was then inevitably burnt.
And again, there is a difference between causes, because some are such
that without any particular eagerness of mind, without any expressed
desire or opinion, they effect what is, as it were, their own work;
as for instance, "that everything must die which has been born." But
other results are effected either by some desire or agitation of mind,
or by habit, or nature, or art, or chance. By desire, as in your case,
when you read this book; by agitation, as in the case of any one who
fears the ultimate issue of the present crisis; by habit, as in the
case of a man who gets easily and rapidly in a passion; by nature, as
vice increases every day; by art, as in the case of a man who paints
well; by chance, as in the case of a man who has a prosperous voyage.
None of these things are without some cause, and yet none of them are
wholly owing to any single cause. But causes of this kind are not
necessary ones.
XVII. But in some of these causes there is a uniform operation, and in
others there is not. In nature and in art there is uniformity; but
in the others there is none. But still of those causes which are not
uniform, some are evident, others are concealed. Those are evident
which touch the desire or judgment of the mind; those are concealed
which are subject to fortune: for as nothing is done without some
cause, this very obscure cause, which works in a concealed manner,
is the issue of fortune. Again, these results which are produced are
partly unintended, partly intentional. Those are unintended which are
produced by necessity; those are intentional which are produced by
design. But those results which are produced by fortune are either
unintended or intentional. For to shoot an arrow is an act of
intention; to hit a man whom you did not mean to hit is the result of
fortune. And this is the topic which you use like a battering-ram in
your forensic pleadings; if a weapon has flown from the man's hand
rather than been thrown by him. Also agitation of mind may be divided
into absence of knowledge and absence of intention. And although they
are to a certain extent voluntary, (for they are diverted from their
course by reproof or by admonition,) still they are liable to such
emotions that even those acts of theirs which are intentional
sometimes seem either unavoidable, or at all events unintentional.
The whole topic of these causes then being now fully explained, from
their differences there is derived a great abundance of arguments in
all the important discussions of orators and philosophers. And in the
cases which you lawyers argue, if there is not so plentiful a stock,
what there are, are perhaps more subtle and shrewd. For in private
actions the decisions in the most important cases appear to me to
depend a great deal on the acuteness of the lawyers. For they are
constantly present, and are taken into counsel; and they supply
weapons to able advocates whenever they have recourse to their
professional wisdom.
In all those judicial proceedings then, in which the words "according
to good faith" are added, or even those words, "as ought to be done by
one good man to another;" and above all, in all cases of arbitration
respecting matrimonial rights, in which the words "juster and better"
occur, the lawyers ought to be always ready. For they know what
"dishonest fraud," or "good faith," or "just," or "good" mean. They
are acquainted with the law between partners; they know what the man
who has the management of the affairs of another is bound to do with
respect to him whose affairs he manages; they have laid down rules to
show what the man who has committed a charge to another, and what he
who has had it committed to him, ought to do; what a husband ought to
confer on his wife, and a wife on her husband. It will, therefore,
when they have by diligence arrived at a proper understanding of the
topics from which the necessary arguments are derived, be in the power
not only of orators and philosophers, but of lawyers also, to discuss
with abundance of argument all the questions which can arise for their
consideration.
XVIII. Conjoined to this topic of causes is that topic which is
supplied by causes. For as cause indicates effect, so what has been
effected points out what the efficient cause has been. This topic
ordinarily supplies to orators and poets, and often to philosophers
also, that is to say, to those who have an elegant and argumentative
and rich style of eloquence, a wonderful store of arguments, when they
predict what will result from each circumstance. For the knowledge of
causes produces a knowledge of effects.
The remaining topic is that of comparison, the genus and instances of
which have been already explained, as they have in the case of the
other topics. At present we must explain the manner of dealing with
this one. Those things then are compared which are greater than one
another, or less than one another, or equal to one another. In which
these points are regarded; number, appearance, power, and some
particular relation to some particular thing.
Things will be compared in number thus: so that more advantages may be
preferred to fewer; fewer evils to more; more lasting advantages
to those which are more short-lived; those which have an extensive
application to those the effect of which is narrowed: those from which
still further advantages may be derived, and those which many people
may imitate and reproduce.
Things again will be compared with reference to their appearance, so
that those things may be preferred which are to be desired for their
own sake, to those which are only sought for the sake of something
else: and so that innate and inherent advantages may be preferred to
acquired and adventitious ones; complete good to mixed good; pleasant
things to things less pleasant; honourable things to such as are
merely useful; easy things to difficult ones; necessary to unnecessary
things; one's own advantage to that of others; rare things to common
ones; desirable things to those which you can easily do without;
things complete to things which are only begun; wholes to parts;
things proceeding on reason to things void of reason; voluntary to
necessary things; animate to inanimate things; things natural to
things not natural; things skilfully produced by art to things with
which art has no connexion.
But power in a comparison is perceived in this way: an efficient cause
is more important than one which effects nothing; those causes which
can act by themselves are superior to those which stand in need of the
aid of others; those which are in our power are preferable to those
which are in the power of another; lasting causes surpass those which
are uncertain; things of which no one can deprive us are better than
things which can be easily taken away.
But the way in which people or things are disposed towards some
things is of this sort: the interests of the chief citizens are more
important than those of the rest: and also, those things which are
more agreeable, which are approved of by more people, or which
are praised by the most virtuous men, are preferable. And as in a
comparison these things are the better, so those which are contrary to
them are the worse.
But the comparison between things like or equal to each other has no
elation or submission; for it is on equal terms: but there are many
things which are compared on account of their very equality; which are
usually concluded in this manner: "If to assist one's fellow-citizens
with counsel and personal aid deserves equal praise, those men who act
as counsellors ought to enjoy an equal glory with those who are the
actual defenders of a state." But the first premiss is certainly the
case; therefore so must the consequent be.
Every rule necessary for the discovery of arguments is now concluded;
so that as you have proceeded from definition, from partition, from
observation, from words connected with one another, from genus, from
species, from similarity, from difference, from contraries, from
accessories, from consequents, from antecedents, from things
inconsistent with one another, from causes, from effects, from a
comparison with greater, or lesser, or equal things,--there is no
topic of argument whatever remaining to be discovered.
XIX. But since we originally divided the inquiry in such a way that we
said that other topics also were contained in the very matter which
was the subject of inquiry; (but of those we have spoken at sufficient
length:) that others were derived from external subjects; and of these
we will say a little; although those things have no relation whatever
to your discussions. But still we may as well make the thing complete,
since we have begun it. Nor are you a man who take no delight in
anything except civil law; and since this treatise is dedicated to
you, though not so exclusively but that it will also come into the
hands of other people, we must take pains to be as serviceable as
possible to those men who are addicted to laudable pursuits.
This sort of argumentation then which is said not to be founded on
art, depends on testimony. But we call everything testimony which is
deduced from any external circumstances for the purpose of implanting
belief. Now it is not every one who is of sufficient weight to give
valid testimony; for authority is requisite to make us believe things.
But it is either a man's natural character or his age which invests
him with authority. The authority derived from a man's natural
character depends chiefly on his virtue; but on his age there are
many things which confer authority; genius, power, fortune, skill,
experience, necessity, and sometimes even a concourse of accidental
circumstances. For men think able and opulent men, and men who have
been esteemed during a long period of their lives, worthy of being
believed Perhaps they are not always right; but still it is not easy
to change the sentiments of the common people; and both those who form
judgments and those who adopt vague opinions shape everything with
reference to them. For those men who are eminent for those qualities
which I have mentioned, seem to be eminent for virtue itself. But in
the other circumstances also which I have just enumerated, although
there is in them no appearance of virtue, still sometimes belief
is confirmed by them, if either any skill is displayed,--for the
influence of knowledge in inspiring belief is very great; or any
experience--for people are apt to believe those who are men of
experience.
XX. Necessity also engenders belief, which sways both bodies and
minds. For what men say when worn out with tortures, and stripes, and
fire, appears to be uttered by truth itself. And those statements
which proceed from agitation of mind, such as pain, cupidity, passion,
and fear, because those feelings have the force of necessity, bring
authority and belief. And of this kind are those circumstances from
which at times the truth is discovered; childhood, sleep, ignorance,
drunkenness, insanity. For children have often indicated something,
though ignorant to what it related; and many things have often been
discovered by sleep, and wine, and insanity. Many men also have
without knowing it fallen into great difficulties, as lately happened
to Stalenus; who said things in the hearing of certain excellent men,
though a wall was between them, which, when they were revealed and
brought before a judicial tribunal, were thought so wicked that he was
rightly convicted of a capital offence. And we have heard something
similar concerning Pausanias the Lacedaemonian.
But the concourse of fortuitous events is often of this kind; when
anything has happened by chance to interrupt, when anything was being
done or said which it was desirable should not have been done or said.
Of this kind is that multitude of suspicions of treason which were
heaped upon Palamedes. And circumstances of this kind are sometimes
scarcely able to be refuted by truth itself. Of this kind too is
ordinary report among the common people; which is as it were the
testimony of the multitude.
But those things which create belief on account of the virtue of the
witness are of a two-fold kind; one of which is valid on account of
nature, the other by industry. For the virtue of the gods is eminent
by nature; but that of men, because of their industry.
Testimonies of this kind are nearly divine, first of all, that of
oration, (for oracles were so called from that very same word, as
there is in them the oration of the gods;) then that of things in
which there are, as it were, many divine works; first of all, the word
itself, and its whole order and ornaments; then the airy flights and
songs of birds; then the sound and heat of that same air; and the
numerous prodigies of divers kinds seen on the earth; and also, the
power of foreseeing the future by means of the entrails of victims:
many things, too, which are shown to the living by those who are
asleep: from all which topics the testimonies of the gods are at times
adduced so as to create belief.
In the case of a man, the opinion of his virtue is of the greatest
weight. For opinion goes to this extent, that those men have virtue,
not only who do really possess it, but those also who appear to
possess it. Therefore, those men whom they see endowed with genius
and diligence and learning, and whose life they see is consistent and
approved of, like Cato and Laelius, and Scipio, and many others, they
consider such men as they themselves would wish to be. And not only
do they think them such who enjoy honours conferred on them by the
people, and who busy themselves with affairs of state, but also those
who are orators, and philosophers, and poets, and historians; from
whose sayings and writings authority is often sought for to establish
belief.
XXI. Having thus explained all the topics serviceable for arguing, the
first thing to be understood is, that there is no discussion whatever
to which some topic or other is not applicable; and on the other hand,
that it is not every topic which is applicable to every discussion;
but that different topics are suited to different subjects.
There are two kinds of inquiry: one, infinite; the other, definite.
The definite one is that which the Greeks call [Greek: hupothesis],
and we, a cause; the infinite one, that which they call [Greek:
thesis], and which we may properly term a proposition.
A cause is determined by certain persons, places, times, actions, and
things, either all or most of them; but a proposition is declared in
some one of those things, or in several of them, and those not the
most important: therefore, a proposition is a part of a cause. But the
whole inquiry is about some particular one of those things in which
causes are contained; whether it be one, or many, or sometimes all.
But of inquiries, concerning whatever thing they are, there two kinds;
one theoretical, the other practical. Theoretical inquiries are those
of which the proposed aim is science; as, 'If it is inquired whether
right proceeds from nature, or from some covenant, as it were, and
bargain between men. But the following are instances of practical
inquiry: "Whether it is the part of a wise man to meddle with
statesmanship." The inquiries into theoretical matters are threefold;
as what is inquired is, whether a thing exists, or what it is, or
what its character is. The first of these queries is explained by
conjecture; the second, by definition; the third, by distinctions of
right and wrong.
The method of conjecture is distributed into four parts; one of which
is, when the inquiry is whether something exists; a second, when the
question is, whence it has originated; a third, when one seeks to know
what cause produced it; the fourth is that in which the alterations to
which the subject is liable are examined: "Whether it exists or not;
whether there is anything honourable, anything intrinsically and
really just; or whether these things only exist in opinion." But the
inquiry whence it has originated, is when an inquiry is such as
this, "Whether virtue is implanted by nature, or whether it can be
engendered by instruction." But the efficient cause is like this, as
when an inquiry is, "By what means eloquence is produced." Concerning
the alterations of anything, in this manner: "Whether eloquence can by
any alteration be converted into a want of eloquence."
XXII. But when the question is what a thing is; the notion is to be
explained, and the property, and the division, and the partition. For
these things are all attributed to definition. Description also is
added, which the Greeks call [Greek: charaktaer]. A notion is inquired
into in this way: "Whether that is just which is useful to that person
who is the more powerful." Property, in this way: "Whether melancholy
is incidental to man alone, or whether beasts also are liable to it."
Division, and also partition, in this manner: "Whether there are three
descriptions of good things." Description, like this: "What sort of
person a miser is; what sort of person a flatterer;" and other things
of that sort, by which the nature and life of a man are described.
But when the inquiry is what the character of something is, the
inquiry is conducted either simply, or by way of comparison.
Simply, in this way: "Whether glory is to be sought for." By way of
comparison, in this way: "Whether glory is to be preferred to riches."
Of simple inquiries there are three kinds; about seeking for or
avoiding anything, about the right and the wrong; about what is
honourable and what is discreditable. But of inquiries by way of
comparison there are two; one of the thing itself and something else;
one of something greater and something else. Of seeking for and
avoiding a thing, in this way: "Whether riches are to be sought
for: whether poverty is to be avoided." Concerning right and wrong:
"Whether it is right to revenge oneself, whoever the person may be
from whom one has received an injury." Concerning what is honourable
and what is discreditable: "Whether it is honourable to die for one's
country." But of the other kind of inquiry, which has been stated to
be twofold, one is about the thing in question and something else;
as if it were asked, "What is the difference between a friend and
a flatterer, between a king and a tyrant?" The other is between
something greater and something less; as if it were asked, "Whether
eloquence is of more consequence than the knowledge of civil law." And
this is enough about theoretical inquiries.
It remains to speak of practical ones; of which there are two kinds:
one relating to one's duty, the other to engendering, or calming, or
utterly removing any affection of the mind. Relating to duty thus: as
when the question is, "Whether children ought to be bad." Relating to
influencing the mind, when exhortations are delivered to men to defend
the republic, or when they are encouraged to seek glory and praise:
of which kind of addresses are complaints, and encouragements, and
tearful commiseration; and again, speeches extinguishing anger, or at
other times removing fear, or repressing the exultation of joy, or
effacing melancholy. As these different divisions belong to general
inquiries, they are also transferable to causes.
XXIII. But the next thing to be inquired is, what topics are adapted
to each kind of inquiry; for all those which we have already mentioned
are suitable to most kinds; but still, different topics, as I have
said before, are better suited to different investigations. Those
arguments are the most suitable to conjectural discussion which can be
deduced from causes, from effects, or from dependent circumstances.
But when we have need of definition, then we must have recourse to the
principles and science of defining. And akin to this is that other
argument also which we said was employed with respect to the subject
in question and something else; and that is a species of definition.
For if the question is, "Whether pertinacity and perseverance are the
same thing," it must be decided by definitions. And the topics which
are incidental to a discussion of this kind are those drawn from
consequents, or antecedents, or inconsistencies, with the addition
also of those two topics which are deduced from causes and effects.
For if such and such a thing is a consequence of this, but not a
consequence of that; or if such and such a thing is a necessary
antecedent to this, but not to that; or if it is inconsistent with
this, but not with that; or if one thing is the cause of this, and
another the cause of that; or if this is effected by one thing,
and that by another thing; from any one of these topics it may be
discovered whether the thing which is the subject of discussion is the
same thing or something else.
With respect to the third kind of inquiry, in which the question is
what the character of the matter in question is, those things are
incidental to the comparison which were enumerated just now under the
topic of comparison. But in that kind of inquiry where the question
is about what is to be sought for or avoided, those arguments are
employed which refer to advantages or disadvantages, whether affecting
the mind or body, or being external. And again, when the inquiry is
not what is honourable or discreditable, all our argument must be
addressed to the good or bad qualities of the mind.
But when right and wrong are being discussed, all the topics of equity
are collected. These are divided in a two-fold manner, as to whether
they are such by nature or owing to institutions. Nature has two
parts to perform, to defend itself, and to indicate right. But the
agreements which establish equity are of a threefold character: one
part is that which rests on laws; one depends on convenience; the
third is founded on and established by antiquity of custom. And again,
equity itself is said to be of a threefold nature: one division of it
having reference to the gods above; another, to the shades below; a
third, to mankind. The first is called piety; the second, sanctity;
the third, justice or equity.
XXIV. I have said enough about propositions. There are now a few
things which require to be said about causes. For they have many
things in common with propositions.
There are then three kinds of causes; having for their respective
objects, judgment, deliberation, and panegyric. And the object of each
points out what topics we ought to employ in each. For the object of
judicial judgment is right; from which also it derives its name. And
the divisions of right were explained when we explained the divisions
of equity. The object of deliberation is utility; of which the
divisions have also been already explained when we were treating of
things to be desired. The object of panegyric is honour; concerning
which also we have already spoken.
But inquiries which are definite are all of them furnished with
appropriate topics, as if they belonged to themselves, being divided
into accusation and defence. And in them there are these kinds of
argumentation. The accuser accuses a person of an act; the advocate
for the defence opposes one of these excuses: either that the thing
imputed has not been done; or that, if it has been done, it deserves
to be called by a different name; or that it was done lawfully and
rightly. Therefore, the first is called a defence either by way of
denial or by way of conjecture; the second is called a defence by
definition; the third, although it is an unpopular name, is called the
judicial one.
XXV. The arguments proper to these excuses, being derived from the
topics which we have already set forth, have been explained in our
oratorical rules. But the refutation of an accusation, in which there
is a repelling of a charge, which is called in Greek [Greek: stasis],
is in Latin called _status_. On which there is founded, in the first
place, such a defence as may effectually resist the attack. And also,
in the deliberations and panegyrics the same refutations often have
place. For it is often denied that those things are likely to happen
which have been stated by some or other in his speech as sure to take
place; if it can be shown either that they are actually impossible, or
that they cannot be brought about without extreme difficulty. And in
this kind of argumentation the conjectural refutation takes place. But
when there is any discussion about utility, or honour, or equity, and
about those things which are contrary to one another, then come in
denials, either of the law or of the name of the action. And the same
is the case in panegyrics. For one may either deny that that has been
done which the person is praised for; or else that it ought to bear
that name which the praiser has conferred on it, or else one may
altogether deny that it deserves any praise at all, as not having been
done rightly or lawfully. And Caesar employed all these different kinds
of denial with exceeding impudence when speaking against my friend
Cato. But the contest which arises from a denial is called by the
Greeks [Greek: krinomenon]; I, while writing to you, prefer calling it
"the precise point in dispute." But for the parts within which this
discussion on the point in dispute is contained, they may be called
the containing parts; being as it were the foundations of the defence;
and if they are taken away there would be no defence at all. But since
in arguing controversies there ought to be nothing which has more
weight than the law itself, we must take pains to have the law as our
assistant and witness. And in this there are, as it were, other new
denials, which are called legitimate subjects of discussion. For then
it is urged in defence, that the law does not say what the adversary
states it to say, but something else. And that happens when the terms
of the law are ambiguous, so that they can be understood in two
different senses. Then the intention of the framer is opposed to the
letter of the law; so that the question is, whether the words or the
intention ought to have the greatest validity? Then again, another law
is adduced contrary to this law. So there are three kinds of doubts
which can give rise to a dispute with respect to every written
document; ambiguity of expression, discrepancy between the expression
and the intention, and also written documents opposed to the one in
question. For this is evident; that these kinds of disputes are no
more incidental to laws than to wills, or covenants, or to anything
else which is contained in writing. And the way to treat these topics
is explained in other books.
XXVI. Nor is it only entire pleadings which are assisted by these
topics, but the same are useful in the separate parts of an orator;
being partly peculiar and partly general. As in the opening of a
speech, in which the orator must employ peculiar topics in order to
render his hearers well disposed to him, and docile, and attentive.
And also he must attend to his relations of facts, so that they may
have a bearing on his object, that is to say, that they may be plain,
and brief, and intelligible, and credible, and respectable, and
dignified: for although these qualities ought to be apparent
throughout the whole speech, still they are peculiarly necessary in
any narration. But since the belief which is given to a narration is
engendered by persuasiveness, we have already, in the treatises which
we have written on the general subject of oratory, explained what
topics they are which have the greatest power to persuade the hearers.
But the peroration has other points to attend to, and especially
amplification; the effect of which ought to be, that the mind of the
hearer is agitated or tranquillized by it; and if it has already been
affected in that way, that the whole speech shall either increase its
agitation, or calm it more completely.
For this kind of peroration, by which pity, and anger, and hatred,
and envy, and similar feelings of the mind are excited, rules are
furnished in those books, which you may read over with me whenever you
like. But as to the point on which I have known you to be anxious,
your desires ought now to be abundantly satisfied. For, in order
not to pass over anything which had reference to the discovery of
arguments in every sort of discussion, I have embraced more topics
than were desired by you; and I have done as liberal sellers often do,
when they have sold a house or a farm, the movables being all excepted
from the sale, still give some of them to the purchaser, which appear
to be well placed as ornaments or conveniences. And so we have chosen
to throw in some ornaments that were not strictly your due, in
addition to that with which we had bound ourselves to furnish you.
* * * * *
A DIALOGUE CONCERNING ORATORICAL PARTITIONS.
BY MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO.
* * * * *
The persons introduced in this dialogue are Cicero and his son. It is
not known when, or under what circumstances it was written.
I. _Cicero Fil._ I wish, my father, to hear from you in Latin the
rules which you have already given me in Greek, concerning the
principles of speaking, if at least you have leisure and inclination
to instruct me in them.
_Cicero Pat._ Is there anything, my Cicero, which I can be more
desirous of than that you should be as learned as possible? And in the
first place, I have the greatest possible leisure, since I have
been able to leave Rome for a time; and in the next place, I would
willingly postpone even my own most important occupations to the
furthering of your studies.
_C. F._ Will you allow me, then, to ask you questions in my turn, in
Latin, about the same subjects on which you are accustomed to put
questions to me in regular order in Greek?
_C. P._ Certainly, if you like; for by that means I shall perceive
that you recollect what you have been told, and you will hear in
regular order all that you desire.
_C. F._ Into how many parts is the whole system of speaking divided?
_C. P._ Into three.
_C. F._ What are they?
_C. P._ First of all, the power of the orator; secondly, the speech;
thirdly, the subject of the speech.
_C. F._ In what does the power of the orator consist?
_C. P._ In ideas and words. But both ideas and words have to be
discovered and arranged. But properly the expression "to discover"
applies to the ideas, and the expression "to be eloquent" to the
language; but the arranging, though that is common to both, still is
usually referred rather to the discovery. Voice, gesture, expression
of countenance, and all action, are companions of eloquence; and the
guardian of all these things is memory.
_C. F._ What? How many parts of an oration are there?
_C. P._ Four: two of them relate to explaining any subject,--namely,
relation and confirmation; two to exciting the minds of the
hearers,--the opening and the peroration.
_C. F._ What? Has the manner of inquiry any divisions?
_C. P._ It is divided into the infinite, which I term consultation;
and the definite, which I call the cause.
II. _C. F._ Since, then, the first business of the orator is
discovery, what is he to look for?
_C. P._ He is to seek to find out how to inspire those men whom he
is desirous to persuade, with belief in his words; and how to affect
their minds with such and such feelings.
_C. F._ By what means is belief produced?
_C. P._ By arguments, which are derived from topics either existing in
the subject itself, or assumed.
_C. F._ What do you mean by topics?
_C. P._ Things in which arguments are concealed.
_C. F._ What is an argument?
_C. P._ Something discovered which has a probable influence in
producing belief.
_C. F._ How, then, do you divide these two heads?
_C. P._ Those things which come into the mind without art I call
remote arguments, such as testimony.
_C. F._ What do you mean by those topics which exist in the thing
itself?
_C. P._ I cannot give a clearer explanation of them.
_C. F._ What are the different kinds of testimony?
_C. P._ Divine and human. Divine,--such as oracles, auspices,
prophecies, the answers of priests, soothsayers, and diviners:
human,--which is derived from authority, from inclination, and from
speech either voluntary or extorted; and under this head come written
documents, covenants, promises, oaths, inquiries.
_C. F._ What are the arguments which you say belong to the cause?
_C. P._ Those which are fixed in the things themselves, as definition,
as a contrary, as those things which are like or unlike, or which
correspond to or differ from the thing itself or its contrary, as
those things which have as it were united, or those which are as it
were inconsistent with one another, or the causes of those things
which are under discussion, or the results of causes, that is to say,
those things which are produced by causes, as distributions, and the
genera of parts, or the parts of genera, as the beginnings and as it
were outriders of things, in which there is some argument, as the
comparisons between things, as to which is greater, which is equal,
which is less, in which either the natures or the qualities of things
are compared together.
III. _C. F._ Are we then to derive arguments from all these topics?
_C. P._ Certainly we must examine into them all, and seek them from
all, but we must exercise our judgment in order at all times to reject
what is trivial, and sometimes pass over even common topics, and those
which are not necessary.
_C. F._ Since you have now answered me as to belief, I wish to hear
your account of how one is to raise feelings.
_C. P._ It is a very reasonable question, but what you wish to know
will be explained more clearly when I come to the system of orations
and inquiries themselves.
_C. F._ What, then, comes next?
_C. P._ When, you have discovered your arguments, to arrange them
properly, and in an extensive inquiry the order of the topics is very
nearly that which I have set forth, but in a definite one, we must use
those topics also which relate to exciting the required feelings in
the minds of the hearers.
_C. F._ How, then, do you explain them?
_C. P._ I have general precepts for producing belief and exciting
feelings. Since belief is a firm opinion, but feelings are an
excitement of the mind either to pleasure, or to vexation, or to fear,
or to desire, (for there are all these kinds of feelings, and many
divisions of each separate genus,) I adapt all my arrangement to the
object of the inquiry. For the end in a proposition is belief, in a
cause, both belief and feeling wherefore, when I have spoken of the
cause, in which proposition is involved, I shall have spoken of both.
_C. F._ What have you then to say about the cause?
_C. P._ That it is divided according to the divisions of hearers. For
they are either listeners, who do nothing more than hear; or judges,
that is to say, regulators both of the fact and of the decision; so
as either to be delighted or to determine something. But he decides
either concerning the past as a judge, or concerning the future as
a senate. So there are three kinds,--one of judgment, one of
deliberation, one of embellishment; and this last, because it is
chiefly employed in panegyric, has its peculiar name from that.
IV. _C. F._ What objects shall the orator propose to himself in these
three kinds of oratory?
_C. P._ In embellishment, his aim must be to give pleasure; in
judicial speaking, to excite either the severity or the clemency of
the judge; but in persuasion, to excite either the hope or the fear of
the assembly which is deliberating.
_C. F._ Why then do you choose this place to explain the different
kinds of disputes?
_C. P._ In order to adapt my principles of arrangement to the object
of each separate kind.
_C. F._ In what manner?
_C. P._ Because in those orations in which pleasure is the object
aimed at, the orders of arrangement differ. For either the degrees of
opportunities are preserved, or the divisions of genera; or we ascend
from the less to the greater, or we glide down from the greater to the
less; or we distinguish between them with a variety of contrasts, when
we oppose little things to great ones, simple things to complex ones,
things obscure to things which are plain, what is joyful to what is
sad, what is incredible to what is probable; all which topics are
parts of embellishment.
_C. F._ What? What is your aim in a deliberative speech?
_C. P._ There must either be a short opening, or none at all. For the
men who are deliberating are ready for their own sake to hear what
you have to say. And indeed it is not often that there is much to be
related; for narration refers to things either present or past, but
persuasion has reference to the future. Wherefore every speech is to
be calculated to produce belief, and to excite the feelings.
_C. F._ What next? What is the proper arrangement in judicial
speeches?
_C. P._ The arrangement suitable to the accuser is not the same as
that which is good for the accused person; because the accuser follows
the order of circumstances, and puts forward vigorously each separate
argument, as if he had a spear in his hand; and sums them up
with vehemence; and confirms them by documents, and decrees, and
testimonies; and dwells carefully on each separate proof; and avails
himself of all the rules of peroration which are of any force to
excite the mind; and in the rest of his oration he departs a little
from the regular tenor of his argument; and above all, is he earnest
in summing up, for his object is to make the judge angry.
V. _C. F._ What, on the other hand, is the person accused to do?
_C. P_. He is to act as differently as possible in every respect.
He must employ an opening calculated to conciliate good-will. Any
narrations which are disagreeable must be cut short; or if they are
wholly mischievous, they must be wholly omitted; the corroborative
proofs calculated to produce belief must be either weakened or
obscured, or thrown into the shade by digressions. And all the
perorations must be adapted to excite pity.
_C. F._ Can we, then, always preserve that order of arrangement which
we desire to adopt?
_C. P._ Surely not; for the ears of the hearers are guides to a wise
and prudent orator; and whatever is unpleasing to them must be altered
or modified.
_C. F._ Explain to me then now, what are the rules for the speech
itself, and for the expressions to be contained in it.
_C. P._ There is, then, one kind of eloquence which seems fluent by
nature; another which appears to have been changed and modified by
art. The power of the first consists in simple words; that of the
second, in words in combination. Simple words require discovery;
combined expressions stand in need of arrangement.
And simple expressions are partly natural, partly discovered. Those
are natural which are simply appellative; those are discovered which
are made of those others, and remodelled either by resemblance, or by
imitation, or by inflection, or by the addition of other words. And
again, there is this distinction between words: some are distinguished
according to their nature; some according to the way in which they are
handled: some by nature, so that they are more sonorous, more grave,
or more trivial, and to a certain extent neater: but others by the way
in which they are handled, when either the peculiar names of things
are taken, or else others which are added to the proper name, or new,
or old-fashioned, or in some way or other modified and altered by the
orator,--such as those which are used in borrowed senses, or changed,
or those which we as it were misuse; or those which we make obscure;
which we in some incredible manner remove altogether; and which we
embellish in a more marvellous manner than the ordinary usage of
conversation sanctions.
VI. _C. F._ I understand you now as far as simple expressions go; now
I ask about words in combination.
_C. P_. There is a certain rhythm which must be observed in such
combination, and a certain order in which words must follow one
another. Our ears themselves measure the rhythm; and guard against
your failing to fill up with the requisite words the sentence which
you have begun, and against your being too exuberant on the other
hand. But the order in which words follow one another is laid down
to prevent an oration being a confused medley of genders, numbers,
tenses, persons, and cases; for, as in simple words, that which is not
Latin, so in combined expressions, that which is not well arranged,
deserves to be blamed.