Book: The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4

C >> Cicero >> The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4




XXXIV. I am speaking at present concerning the subject matter of a
speech, not about the kind of speaking requisite. For I would rather
that an orator should first have a subject to speak of worthy of
learned ears, before he considers in what words or in what manner he
is to speak of everything; and, in order to make him grander, and in
some sense loftier (as I have said above about Pericles,) I should
wish him not to be utterly ignorant of physical science; and then,
when he descends again from heavenly matters to human affairs, he will
have all his words and sentiments of a more sublime and magnificent
character: and while he is acquainted with those divine laws, I do not
wish him to be ignorant of those of men. He must be a master of civil
law, which forensic debates are in daily need of. For what is more
shameful than for a man to undertake the conduct of legal and civil
disputes, while ignorant of the statutes and of civil law? He must be
acquainted also with the history of past ages and the chronology of
old time, especially, indeed, as far as our own state is concerned;
but also he must know the history of despotic governments and of
illustrious monarchs; and that toil is made easier for us by the
labours of our friend Atticus, who has preserved and made known the
history of former times in such a way as to pass over nothing worth
knowing, and yet to comprise the annals of seven hundred years in one
book. For not to know what happened before one was born, is to be
a boy all one's life. For what is the life of a man unless by a
recollection of bygone transactions it is united to the times of
his predecessors? But the mention of antiquity and the citation of
examples give authority and credit to a speech, combined with the
greatest pleasure to the hearers.

XXXV. Let him, therefore, come to his causes prepared in this kind of
way; and he will in the first place be acquainted with the different
kinds of causes. For he will be thoroughly aware that nothing can be
doubted except when either the fact or the language gives rise
to controversy. But the fact is doubted as to its truth, or its
propriety, or its name. Words give rise to dispute if they are
ambiguous or inconsistent. For it ever appears to be the case, that
one thing is meant and another expressed; then that is one kind of
ambiguity which arises from the words which are employed; and in this
we see that two things are meant, which is a property of all ambiguous
sentences.

As there are not many different kinds of causes, so also the rules for
arguments to be used in them are few. Two kinds of topics are given
from which they may be derived; one from the circumstances themselves,
the others assumed. The handling, then, of the matters themselves
makes the speech better; for the matters themselves are usually easy
to be acquainted with. For what remains afterwards, which at least
belongs to art, except to begin the speech in such a manner that the
hearer may be conciliated, or have his attention roused, or may be
made eager to learn? then after that to explain with brevity, and
probability, and clearness, so that it may be understood what is the
question under discussion; to establish his own arguments; to overturn
those of the opposite party; and to do all that, not in an irregular
and confused manner, but with separate arguments, concluded in such
a manner, that everything may be established which is a natural
consequence of those principles which are assumed for the confirmation
of each point: and after everything else is done, then to wind up with
a peroration which shall inflame or cool the hearers, as the case may
require.

Now, how the consummate orator handles each separate division of his
subject, it is hard to explain in this place; nor, indeed, are they
handled at all times in the same manner. But since I am not seeking a
pupil to teach, but a model to approve of, I will begin by praising
the man who sees what is becoming. For this is above all others the
wisdom which the eloquent man wants, namely--to be the regulator of
times and persons. For I do not think that a man ought to speak in the
same manner at all times, or before all people, or against every one,
or in defence of every one, or to every one.

XXXVI. He, then, will be an eloquent man who can adapt his speech to
whatever is becoming. And when he has settled that point, then he
will say everything as it ought to be said; nor will he speak of rich
subjects in a meagre manner, nor of great subjects in a petty manner,
and vice versa; but his oration will be equal to, and corresponding
to, his subject; his exordium will be moderate, not inflamed with
exaggerated expressions, but acute in its sentiments, either in the
way of exciting his hearers against his adversary, or in recommending
himself to them. His relations of facts will be credible, explained
clearly, not in historical language, but nearly in the tone of every
day conversation. Then if his cause is but a slight one, so also
will the thread of his argument be slight, both in asserting and in
refuting. And it will be maintained in such a way, that there will be
just as much force added to the speech as is added to the subject.
But when a cause offers in which all the force of eloquence can be
displayed, then the orator will give himself a wider scope, then he
will influence and sway men's minds, and will move them just as he
pleases, that is to say, just as the nature of the cause and the
occasion requires.

But all that admirable embellishment of his will be of a twofold
character; on account of which it is that eloquence gains such great
honour. For as every part of a speech ought to be admirable, so that
no word should be let drop by accident which is not either grave or
dignified; so also there are two parts of it which are especially
brilliant and lively: one of which I place in the question of the
universal genus, which (as I have said before) the Greeks call [Greek
Thesis]; the other is shown in amplifying and exaggerating matters,
and is called by the same people [Greek auxaesis]. And although that
ought to be spread equally over the whole body of the oration, still
it is most efficacious in dealing with common topics; which are called
common, because they appear to belong to many causes, but still ought
to be considered as peculiar to some individual ones.

But that division of a speech which refers to the universal genus
often contains whole causes; for whatever that is on which there is,
as it were, a contest and dispute, which in Greek is called [Greek
krinomenon], that ought to be expressed in such a manner that it may
be transferred to the general inquiry and be spoken of the whole
genus; except when a doubt is raised about the truth; which is
often endeavoured to be ascertained by conjecture. But it shall be
discussed, not in the fashion of the Peripatetics (for it is a very
elegant exercise of theirs, to which they are habituated ever since
the time of Aristotle), but with rather more vigour; and common topics
will be applied to the subject in such a manner, that many things will
be said gently in behalf of accused persons, and harshly against the
adversaries.

But in amplifying matters, and, on the other hand, in discarding them,
there is nothing which oratory cannot effect. And that must be done
amid the arguments, as often as any opportunity is afforded one,
of either amplifying or diminishing: and may be done to an almost
infinite extent in summing up.

XXXVII. There are two things, which, when well handled by an orator,
make eloquence admirable. One of which is, that which the Greeks call
[Greek: haethikon], adapted to men's natures, and manners, and to
all their habits of life; the other is, that which they call [Greek:
pathaetikon], by which men's minds are agitated and excited, which
is the especial province of oratory. The former one is courteous,
agreeable, suited to conciliate good-will; the latter is violent,
energetic, impetuous, by which causes are snatched out of the fire,
and when it is hurried on rapidly it cannot by any means be withstood.
And by the use of this kind of oratory we, who are but moderate
orators, or even less than that, but who have at all times displayed
great energy, have often driven our adversaries from every part of
their case. That most consummate orator, Hortensius, was unable to
reply to me, on behalf of one of his intimate friends; that most
audacious of men, Catiline, was dumb when impeached in the senate by
me. When Curio, the father, attempted in a private cause of grave
importance to reply to me, he suddenly sat down, and said, that he was
deprived of his memory by poison. Why need I speak of the topics used
to excite pity? which I have employed to the greater extent, because,
even if there were many of us employed in one cause, still all men at
all times yielded me the task of summing up; and it was owing not so
much to my ability as to my sensibility, that I appeared to excel so
much in that part. And those qualities of mine, of whatever sort they
are, and I am ashamed that they are not of a higher class, appear in
my speeches: although my books are without that energy, on account
of which those same speeches appear more excellent when they are
delivered than when they are read.

XXXVIII. Nor is it by pity alone that it is desirable to move the
minds of the judges, (though we have been in the habit of using that
topic ourselves in so piteous a manner that we have even held an
infant child by the hand while summing up; and in another cause, when
a man of noble birth was on his trial, we lifted up his little son,
and filled the forum with wailing and lamentations;) but we must also
endeavour to cause the judge to be angry, to appease him to make him
feel ill-will, and favour, to move him to contempt or admiration, to
hatred or love, to inspire him with desire or disgust, with hope
or fear, with joy or pain; in all which variety the speeches of
prosecutors will supply instances of the sterner kinds, and my
speeches in defence will furnish examples of the softer ones. For
there is no means by which the mind of the hearer can be either
excited or softened, which has not been tried by me; I would say,
brought to perfection, if I thought it was the case; nor should I fear
the imputation of arrogance while speaking the truth. But, as I
have said before, it is not any particular force of genius, but an
exceeding energy of disposition which inflames me to such a degree
that I cannot restrain myself; nor would any one who listens to a
speech ever be inflamed, if the speech which reached his ears was not
itself a fiery one.

I would use examples from my own works if you had not read them; I
would use them from the works of others, if I could find any; or
Greek examples, if it were becoming to do so. But there are very few
speeches of Crassus extant, and those are not forensic speeches.
There is nothing extant of Antonius's, nothing of Cotta's, nothing of
Sulpicius's. Hortensius spoke better than he wrote. But we must form
our own opinions as to the value of this energy which we are looking
for, since we have no instance to produce; or if we are still on the
look out for examples, we must take them from Demosthenes, and we must
cite them from that passage in the speech on the trial of Ctesiphon,
where he ventures to speak of his own actions and counsels and
services to the republic. That oration in truth corresponds so much
to that idea which is implanted in our minds that no higher eloquence
need be looked for.

XXXIX. But now there remains to be considered the form and character
of the eloquence which we are searching for; and what it ought to be
like may be understood from what has been said above. For we have
touched upon the lights of words both single and combined, in which
the orator will abound so much that no expression which is not either
dignified or elegant will ever fall from his mouth. And there will be
frequent metaphors of every sort; because they, on account of their
resemblance to something else, move the minds of the hearers, and turn
them this way and that way; and the very agitation of thought when
operating in quick succession is a pleasure of itself.

And those other lights, if I may so call them, which are derived from
the arrangement of words, are a great ornament to a speech. For they
are like those things which are called decorations in the splendid
ornamenting of a theatre or a forum; not because they are the only
ornaments, but because they are the most excellent ones. The principle
is the same in the case of these things which are the lights, and as
one may say, the decorations of oratory: when words are repeated and
reiterated, or are put down with slight alterations; or when the
sentences are often commenced with the same word, or end with the same
word; or both begin and end alike; or when the same word occurs in the
same place in consecutive sentences; or when one word is repeated in
different senses; or when sentences end with similar sounds; or when
contrary circumstances are related in many contrary manners; or when
the speech proceeds by gradations; or when the conjunctions are taken
away and each member of the sentence is uttered unconnectedly; or when
we pass over some points and explain why we do so; or when we of our
own accord correct ourselves, as if we blamed ourselves; or if we use
any exclamation of admiration, or complaint; or when the same noun is
often repeated in different cases.

But the ornaments of sentiments are more important; and because
Demosthenes employs them very frequently, some people think that that
is the principal thing which makes his eloquence so admirable. And
indeed there is hardly any topic treated by him without a careful
arrangement of his sentences; nor indeed is speaking anything else
except illuminating all, or at least nearly all, one's sentences with
a kind of brilliancy: and as you are thoroughly aware of all this,
O Brutus, why need I quote names or instances. I only let the place
where they occur be noted.

XL. If then that consummate orator whom we are looking for, should say
that he often treats one and the same thing in many different manners;
and dwells a long time on the same idea; and that he often extenuates
some point, and often turns something into ridicule; that he
occasionally appears to change his intention and vary his sentiments;
that he proposes beforehand the points which he wishes to prove; that
when he has completed his argument on any subject he terminates it;
that he often recals himself back, and repeats what he has already
said; that he winds up his arguments with fresh reasons; that he beats
down the adversary with questions; again, that he himself answers
questions which as it were he himself has put; that he sometimes
wishes to be understood as meaning something different from what he
says; that he often doubts what he had best say, or how he had best
say it; that he arranges what he has to say under different heads;
that he leaves out or neglects some points; while there are some
which he fortifies beforehand; that he often throws the blame on his
adversary for the very thing for which he himself is found fault with;
that he often appears to enter into deliberation with his hearers, and
sometimes even with his adversary; that he describes the conversation
and actions of men; that he introduces some dumb things, as speaking;
that he diverts men's minds from the subject under discussion; that he
often turns the discussion into mirth and laughter; that he sometimes
preoccupies ground which he sees is attached; that he adduces
comparisons; that he cites precedents; that he attributes one thing
to one person and another to another; that he checks any one who
interrupts him; that he says that he is keeping back something; that
he adds threatening warnings of what his hearers must beware of; that
he often takes a bolder licence; that he is sometimes even angry; that
he sometimes utters reproaches, deprecates calamity, uses the language
of supplication, and does away with unfavourable impressions; that he
sometimes departs a very little from his subject, to express wishes or
to utter execrations, or to make himself a friend of those men before
whom he is speaking.

He ought also to aim at other virtues, if I may so call them, in
speaking; at brevity, if the subject requires it. He will often, also,
by his speech, bring the matter before people's eyes; and often extol
it beyond what appears possible; his meaning will be often more
comprehensive than his speech; he will often assume a cheerful
language, and often give an imitation of life and nature.

XLI. In this kind of speaking, for you may look upon oratory as a vast
wood, all the importance of eloquence ought to shine forth. But these
qualities, unless they are well arranged and as it were built up
together and connected by suitable language, can never attain that
praise which we wish that it should.

And as I was aware that it would be necessary for me to speak on this
point next, although I was influenced by the considerations which
I had mentioned before, still I was more disturbed by those which
follow. For it occurred to me, that it was possible that men should be
found, I do not mean envious men, with whom all places are full, but
even favourers of my glory, who did not think that it became a man
with reference to whose services the senate had passed such favourable
votes with the approbation of the whole Roman people, as they never
did in the case of any one else, to write so many books about the
method of speaking. And if I were to give them no other answer than
that I was unwilling to refuse the request of Marcus Brutus, it would
be a reasonable excuse, as T might well wish to satisfy a man who was
my greatest friend and a most excellent man, and who only asked what
was right and honourable. But if I were to profess (what I wish that I
could) that I was about to give rules, and paths, as it were, to lead
to eloquence those who are inclined to study oratory, what man who set
a proper value on things would find fault with me? For who has ever
doubted that eloquence has at all times been of the very highest
estimation in our republic, among all the accomplishments of peace,
and of our domestic life in the city; and that next to it is the
knowledge of the law? and that the one had in it the greatest amount
of influence, and credit, and protection; and the other contains rules
for prosecutions and defence; and this latter would often of its own
accord beg for assistance from eloquence; but if it were refused,
would scarcely be able to maintain its own rights and territories.

Why then has it been at all times an honourable thing to teach civil
law, and why have the houses of the most eminent professors of this
science been at all times crowded with pupils? And yet if any one
attempts to excite people to the study of oratory, or to assist the
youth of the city in that pursuit, should he be blamed? For, if it be
a vicious thing to speak in an elegant manner, then let eloquence be
expelled altogether from the state. But if it not only is an ornament
to those who possess it, but the whole republic also, then why is it
discreditable to learn what it is honourable to know; of, why should
it be anything but glorious to teach what it is most excellent to be
acquainted with?

XLII. But the one is a, common study, and the other a novel one. I
admit that; but there is a reason for both these facts. For it was
sufficient to listen to the lawyers giving their answers, so that
they who acted as instructors set aside no particular time for that
purpose, but were at one and the same time satisfying the wants both
of their pupils and their clients. But the other men, as they devoted
all their time, when at home, to acquiring a correct understanding of
the causes entrusted to them, and arranging the arguments which they
were to employ; all their time when in the forum to pleading the
cause, and all the rest of their time in recruiting their own
strength; what time had they for giving rules or lessons? and I do not
know whether most of our orators have not excelled more in genius than
in learning; therefore, they have been able to speak better than they
could teach, while our ability is perhaps just the contrary.

But there is no dignity in teaching.--Certainly not, if it is done as
if one kept a school; but if a man teaches by warning, by exhorting,
by asking questions, by giving information, sometimes by reading with
his pupils and hearing them read, then I do not know, if by teaching
anything you can sometimes make men better, why you should be
unwilling to do it. Is it honourable to teach a man what are the
proper words to alienate consecrated property with, and not honourable
to teach him those by which consecrated property may be maintained and
defended?

"But," men say, "many people profess law who know nothing about it;
but even the very men who have acquired eloquence conceal their
attainment of it, because wisdom is a thing agreeable to men, but
eloquence is suspected by them." Is it possible then for eloquence to
escape notice, or does that which a man conceals cease to exist? Or is
there any danger of any one thinking with respect to an important and
glorious art that it is a discreditable thing to teach others that
which it was very honourable to himself to learn? But perhaps others
may be better hands at concealment; I have always openly avowed that I
have learnt the art. For what could I have done, having left my home
when very young, and crossed the sea for the sake of those studies;
and having had my house full of the most learned men, and when there
were perhaps some indications of learning in my conversation; and when
my writings were a good deal read; could I then have concealed the
fact of my having learnt it? How could I justify myself except by
showing that I had made some progress in those studies?

XLIII. And as this is the case still, the things which have been
already mentioned, have had more dignity in the discussion of them
than those which have got to be discussed. For we are now to speak
about the arrangement of words, and almost about the counting and
measuring of syllables. And, although these things are, as it appears
to me, necessary, yet there is more show in the execution than in
the teaching of them. Now that is true of everything, but it has a
peculiar force with respect to this pursuit. For in the case of all
great arts, as in that of trees, it is the height which delights us,
but we take no pleasure in the roots or trunks; though the one cannot
exist without the other. But as for me, whether it is that that
well-known verse which forbids a man

"To fear to own the art he practises,"

does not allow me to conceal that I take delight in it; or whether it
is your eagerness which has extorted this volume from me; still it was
worth while to make a reply to those whom I suspected of being likely
to find fault with me.

But if the circumstances which I have mentioned had no existence,
still who would be so harsh and uncivilised as not to grant me this
indulgence, so that, when my forensic labours and my public exertions
were interrupted, I might devote my time to literature rather than to
inactivity of which I am incapable, or to melancholy which I resist?
For it was a love of letters which formerly led me into the courts of
justice and the senate-house, and which now delights me when I am at
home. Nor am I occupied only with such subjects as are contained in
this book, but with much more weighty and important, ones; and if
they are brought to perfection, then my private literary labours will
correspond to my forensic exertions. However, at present let us return
to the discussion we had commenced.

XLIV. Our words then must be arranged either so that the last may as
correctly as possible be consistent with the first, and also so that
our first expressions may be as agreeable as possible; or so that the
very form of our sentences and their neatness may be well rounded off;
or so that the whole period may end in a musical and suitable manner.
And, in the first place, let us consider what kind of thing that is
which above all things requires our diligence, so that a regular
structure as it were may be raised, and yet that this may be effected
without any labour. For the labour would be not only infinite, but
childish. As in Lucilius, Scaevola is represented as attacking Albucius
very sensibly:


"How neatly all your phrases are arranged;
Like tesselated pavement, or a box
Inlaid with deftly wrought mosaic."


The care taken in the construction must not be too visible. But still
a practised pen will easily perfect this manner of arranging its
phrases. For as the eye does in reading, so in speaking, the eye will
see beforehand what follows, so that the combination of the last words
of a sentence with the first may not leave the whole sentence either
gaping or harsh. For sentiments ever so agreeable or dignified offend
the ears if they are set down in ill-arranged sentences; for the
judgment of the ears is very fastidious. And the Latin language is so
particular on this point, that no one can be so ignorant as to leave
quantities of open vowels. Though this is a point on which men blame
Theopompus, because he was so ostentatious in his avoidance of such
letters, although his master Isocrates did the same; but Thucydides
did not; nor did that other far superior writer, Plato. And he did
this not only in those conversations which are called Dialogues, when
it ought to have been done designedly; but even in that oration[61]
addressed to the people, in which it is customary at Athens for those
men to be extolled who have been slain in fighting for their country.
And that oration was so greatly approved of that it was, as you know,
appointed to be recited every year; and in that there is a constant
succession of open vowels, which Demosthenes avoided in a great degree
as vicious.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.