The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4

XXVIII. And it is understood that there is added to the general consideration of the whole matter, the consideration what is greater than and what is less than, and what is like the affair which is under discussion, and what is equally important with it, and what is contrary to it, and what is negatively opposed to it, and the whole classification of the affair, and the divisions of it, and the ultimate result. The cases of greater, and less and equally important, are considered with reference to the power, and number and form of the business, as if we were regarding the stature of a human body.

Now what is similar arises out of a species admitting of comparisons. Now what admits of comparisons is estimated by a nature which may be compared with it, and likened to it. What is contrary, is what is placed in a different class and is as distant as possible from that thing to which it is called contrary, as cold is from heat and death from life. But that is negatively opposed to a thing which is separated from the thing by an opposition which is limited to a denial of the quality; in this way, "to be wise," and "not to be wise." That is a genus which embraces several species, as "Cupidity." That is a species which is subordinate to a genus, as "Love," "Avarice." The Result is the ultimate termination of any business; in which it is a common inquiry, what has resulted from each separate fact; what is resulting from it; what is likely to result from it. Wherefore, in order that that which is likely to happen may be more conveniently comprehended in the mind with respect to this genus, we ought first to consider what is accustomed to result from every separate circumstance; in this manner:—From arrogance, hatred usually results; and from insolence, arrogance.

The fourth division is a natural consequence from those qualities, which we said were usually attributed to things in distinction from persons. And with respect to this, those circumstances are sought for which ensue from a thing being done. In the first place, by what name it is proper that that which has been done should be called. In the next place, who have been the chief agents in, or originators of that action; and last of all, who have been the approvers and the imitators of that precedent and of that discovery. In the next place, whether there is any regular usage established with regard to that case, or whether there is any regular rule bearing on that case, or any regular course of proceeding, any formal decision, any science reduced to rules, any artificial system. In the next place, whether its nature is in the habit of being ordinarily displayed, or whether it is so very rarely, and whether it is quite unaccustomed to be so. After that, whether men are accustomed to approve of such a case with their authority, or to be offended at such actions; and with what eyes they look upon the other circumstances which are in the habit of following any similar conduct, either immediately or after an interval. And in the very last place, we must take notice whether any of those circumstances which are rightly classed under honesty or utility ensue. But as to these matters it will be necessary to speak more clearly when we come to mention the deliberative kind of argument. And the circumstances which we have now mentioned are those which are usually attributed to things as opposed to persons.

XXIX. But all argumentation, which can be derived from those topics which we have mentioned, ought to be either probable or unavoidable. Indeed, to define it in a few words, argumentation appears to be an invention of some sort, which either shows something or other in a probable manner, or demonstrates it in an irrefutable one. Those things are demonstrated irrefutably which can neither be done nor proved in any other manner whatever than that in which they are stated; in this manner:—"If she has had a child, she has lain with a man." This sort of arguing, which is conversant with irrefutable demonstration, is especially used in speaking in the way of dilemma, or enumeration, or simple inference.

Dilemma is a case in which, whichever admission you make, you are found fault with. For example:—"If he is a worthless fellow, why are you intimate with him? If he is an excellent man, why do you accuse him?" Enumeration is a statement in which, when many matters have been stated and all other arguments invalidated, the one which remains is inevitably proved; in this manner:—"It is quite plain that he was slain by this man, either because of his enmity to him, or some fear, or hope, which he had conceived, or in order to gratify some friend of his; or, if none of these alternatives are true, then that he was not slain by him at all; for a great crime cannot be undertaken without a motive. But he had no quarrel with him, nor fear of him, nor hope of any advantage to be gained by his death, nor did his death in the least concern any friend of his. It remains, therefore, that he was not slain by him at all." But a simple inference is declared from a necessary consequence, in this way:—"If you say that I did that at that time, at that time I was beyond the sea; it follows, that I not only did not do what you say I did, but that it was not even possible for me to have done it." And it will be desirable to look to this very carefully, in order that this sort of inference may not be refuted in any manner, so that the proof may not only have some sort of argument in it, and some resemblance to an unavoidable conclusion, but that the very argument itself may proceed on irrefutable reasons.

But that is probable which is accustomed generally to take place, or which depends upon the opinion of men, or which contains some resemblance to these properties, whether it be false or true. In that description of subject the most usual probable argument is something of this sort:—"If she is his mother, she loves her son." "If he is an avaricious man, he neglects his oath." But in the case which depends mainly on opinion, probable arguments are such as this: "That there are punishments prepared in the shades below for impious men."—"That those men who give their attention to philosophy do not think that there are gods."

XXX. But resemblance is chiefly seen in things which are contrary to one another, or equal to one another, and in those things which fall under the same principle. In things contrary to one another, in this manner:—"For if it is right that those men should be pardoned who have injured me unintentionally, it is also fitting that one should feel no gratitude towards those who have benefited me because they could not help it."

In things equal to one another, in this way:—"For as a place without a harbour cannot be safe for ships, so a mind without integrity cannot be trustworthy for a man's friends." In those things which fall under the same principle a probable argument is considered in this way:—"For if it be not discreditable to the Rhodians to let out their port dues, then it is not discreditable even to Hermacreon to rent them." Then these arguments are true, in this manner:—"Since there is a scar, there has been a wound." Then they are probable, in in this way:—"If there was a great deal of dust on his shoes, he must have come off a journey." But (in order that we may arrange this matter in certain definite divisions) every probable argument which is assumed for the purpose of discussion, is either a proof, or something credible, or something already determined; or something which may be compared with something else.

That is a proof which falls under some particular sense, and which indicates something which appears to have proceeded from it, which either existed previously, or was in the thing itself, or has ensued since, and, nevertheless, requires the evidence of testimony, and a more authoritative confirmation,—as blood, flight, dust, paleness, and other tokens like these. That is a credible statement which, without any witness being heard, is confirmed in the opinion of the hearer; in this way:—There is no one who does not wish his children to be free from injury, and happy. A case decided beforehand, is a matter approved of by the assent, or authority, or judgment of some person or persons. It is seen in three kinds of decision;—the religious one, the common one, the one depending on sanction. That is a religious one, which men on their oaths have decided in accordance with the laws. That is a common one, which all men have almost in a body approved of and adopted; in this manner:—"That all men should rise up on the appearance of their elders; That all men should pity suppliants." That depends on sanction, which, as it was a doubtful point what ought to be considered its character, men have established of their own authority; as, for instance, the conduct of the father of Gracchus, whom the Roman people made consul after his censorship, because he had done nothing in his censorship without the knowledge of his colleague.

But that is a decision admitting of comparisons, which in a multitude of different circumstances contains some principle which is alike in all. Its parts are three,—representation, collation, example. A Representation is a statement demonstrating some resemblance of bodies or natures; Collation is a statement comparing one thing with another, because of their likeness to one another; Example is that which confirms or invalidates a case by some authority, or by what has happened to some man, or under some especial circumstances. Instances of these things, and descriptions of them, will be given amid the precepts for oratory. And the source of all confirmations has been already explained as occasion offered, and has been demonstrated no less clearly than the nature of the case required. But how each separate statement, and each part of a statement, and every dispute ought to be handled,—whether we refer to verbal discussion or to writings,—and what arguments are suitable for each kind of discussion, we will mention, speaking separately of each kind, in the second book. At present we have only dropped hints about the numbers, and moods, and parts of arguing in an irregular and promiscuous manner; hereafter we will digest (making careful distinctions between and selections from each kind of cause) what is suitable for each kind of discussion, culling it out of this abundance which we have already displayed.

And indeed every sort of argument can be discovered from among these topics; and that, when discovered, it should be embellished, and separated in certain divisions, is very agreeable, and highly necessary, and is also a thing which has been greatly neglected by writers on this art. Wherefore at this present time it is desirable for us to speak of that sort of instruction, in order that perfection of arguing may be added to the discovery of proper arguments. And all this topic requires to be considered with great care and diligence, because there is not only great usefulness in this matter, but there is also extreme difficulty in giving precepts.

XXXI. All argumentation, therefore, is to be carried on either by induction, or by ratiocination. Induction is a manner of speaking which, by means of facts which are not doubtful, forces the assent of the person to whom it is addressed. By which assent it causes him even to approve of some points which are doubtful, on account of their resemblance to those things to which he has assented; as in the Aeschines of Socrates, Socrates shows that Aspasia used to argue with Xenophon's wife, and with Xenophon himself. "Tell me, I beg of you, O you wife of Xenophon, if your neighbour has better gold than you have, whether you prefer her gold or your own?" "Hers," says she. "Suppose she has dresses and other ornaments suited to women, of more value than those which you have, should you prefer your own or hers?" "Hers, to be sure," answered she. "Come, then," says Aspasia, "suppose she has a better husband than you have, should you then prefer your own husband or hers?" On this the woman blushed.

But Aspasia began a discourse with Xenophon himself. "I ask you, O Xenophon," says she, "if your neighbour has a better horse than yours is, whether you would prefer your own horse or his?" "His," says he. "Suppose he has a better farm than you have, which farm, I should like to know, would you prefer to possess?" "Beyond all doubt," says he, "that which is the best." "Suppose he has a better wife than you have, would you prefer his wife?" And on this Xenophon himself was silent. Then spake Aspasia,—"Since each of you avoids answering me that question alone which was the only one which I wished to have answered, I will tell you what each of you are thinking of; for both you, O woman, wish to have the best husband, and you, O Xenophon, most exceedingly desire to have the most excellent wife. Wherefore, unless you both so contrive matters that there shall not be on the whole earth a more excellent man or a more admirable woman, then in truth you will at all times desire above all things that which you think to be the best thing in the world, namely, that you, O Xenophon, may be the husband of the best possible wife; and you, O woman, that you may be married to the most excellent husband possible." After they had declared their assent to these far from doubtful propositions, it followed, on account of the resemblance of the cases, that if any one had separately asked them about some doubtful point, that also would have been admitted as certain, on account of the method employed in putting the question.

This was a method of instruction which Socrates used to a great extent, because he himself preferred bringing forward no arguments for the purpose of persuasion, but wished rather that the person with whom he was disputing should form his own conclusions from arguments with which he had furnished himself, and which he was unavoidably compelled to approve of from the grounds which he had already assented to.

XXXII. And with reference to this kind of persuasion, it appears to me desirable to lay down a rule, in the first place, that the argument which we bring forward by way of simile, should be such that it is impossible to avoid admitting it. For the premiss on account of which we intend to demand that that point which is doubtful shall be conceded to us, ought not to be doubtful itself. In the next place, we must take care that that point, for the sake of establishing which the induction is made, shall be really like those things which we have adduced before as matters admitting of no question. For it will be of no service to us that something has been already admitted, if that for the sake of which we were desirous to get that statement admitted be unlike it; so that the hearer may not understand what is the use of those original inductions, or to what result they tend.

For the man who sees that, if he is correct in giving his assent to the thing about which he is first asked, that thing also to which he does not agree must unavoidably be admitted by him, very often will not allow the examination to proceed any further, either by not answering at all, or by answering wrongly. Wherefore it is necessary that he should, by the method in which the inquiry is conducted, be led on without perceiving it, from the admissions which he has already made, to admit that which he is not inclined to admit, and at last he must either decline to give an answer, or he must admit what is wanted, or he must deny it. If the proposition be denied, then we must either show its resemblance to those things which have been already admitted or we must employ some other induction. If it be granted, then the argumentation may be brought to a close. If he keeps silence, then an answer must be extracted, or, since silence is very like a confession, it may be as well to bring the discussion to a close, taking the silence to be equivalent to an admission.

And so this kind of argumentation is threefold. The first part consists of one simile, or of several, the second, of that which we desire to have admitted, for the sake of which the similes have been employed, the third proceeds from the conclusion which either establishes the admissions which have been made or points out what may be established from it.

XXXIII But because it will not appear to some people to have been explained with sufficient clearness, unless we submit some instance taken from the civil class of causes, it seems desirable to employ some example of this sort, not because the rules to be laid down differ, or because it is expedient to employ such differently in this sort of discussion from what we should in ordinary discourse, but in order to satisfy the desire of those men, who, though they may have seen something in one place, are unable to recognise it in another unless it be proved. Therefore in this cause which is very notorious among the Greeks, that of Epaminondas, the general of the Thebans, who did not give up his army to the magistrate who succeeded him in due course of law, and when he himself had retained his army a few days contrary to law, he utterly defeated the Lacedaemonians, the accuser might employ an argumentation by means of induction, while defending the letter of the law in opposition to its spirit, in this way:—

"If, O judges, the framer of the law had added to his law what Epaminondas says that he intended, and had subjoined the exception 'except where any one has omitted to deliver up his army for the advantage of the republic,' would you have endured it? I think not. And if you yourselves, (though, such a proceeding is very far from your religious habits and from your wisdom,) for the sake of doing honour to this man, were to order the same exception to be subjoined to the law, would the Theban people endure that such a thing should be done? Beyond all question it would not endure it. Can it possibly then appear to you that that which would be scandalous if it were added to a law, should be proper to be done just as if it had been added to the law? I know your acuteness well; it cannot seem so to you, O judges. But if the intention of the framer of the law cannot be altered as to its expressions either by him or by you, then beware lest it should be a much more scandalous thing that that should be altered in fact, and by your decision, which cannot be altered in one single word."

And we seem now to have said enough for the present respecting induction. Next, let us consider the power and nature of ratiocination.

XXXIV. Ratiocination is a sort of speaking, eliciting something probable from the fact under consideration itself, which being explained and known of itself, confirms itself by its own power and principles.

Those who have thought it profitable to pay diligent attention to this kind of reasoning, have differed a little in the manner in which they have laid down rules, though they were aiming at the same end as far as the practice of speaking went. For some of them have said that there are five divisions of it, and some have thought that it had no more parts than could be arranged under three divisions. And it would seem not useless to explain the dispute which exists between these parties, with the reasons which each allege for it; for it is a short one, and not such that either party appears to be talking nonsense. And this topic also appears to us to be one that it is not at all right to omit in speaking.

Those who think that it ought to be arranged in five divisions, say that first of all it is desirable to explain the sum of the discussion, in this way:—Those things are better managed which are done on some deliberate plan, than those which are conducted without any steady design. This they call the first division. And then they think it right that it should be further proved by various arguments, and by as copious statements as possible; in this way:—"That house which is governed by reason is better appointed in all things, and more completely furnished, than that which is conducted at random, and on no settled plan;—that army which is commanded by a wise and skilful general, is governed more suitably in all particulars than that which is managed by the folly and rashness of any one. The same principle prevails with respect to sailing; for that ship performs its voyage best which has the most experienced pilot."

When the proposition has been proved in this manner, and when two parts of the ratiocination have proceeded, they say in the third part, that it is desirable to assume, from the mere intrinsic force of the proposition, what you wish to prove; in this way:—"But none of all those things is managed better than the entire world." In the fourth division they adduce besides another argument in proof of this assumption, in this manner:—"For both the rising and setting of the stars preserve some definite order, and their annual commutations do not only always take place in the same manner by some express necessity, but they are also adapted to the service of everything, and their daily and nightly changes have never injured anything in any particular from being altered capriciously." And all these things are a token that the nature of the world has been arranged by no ordinary wisdom. In the fifth division they bring forward that sort of statement, which either adduces that sort of fact alone which is compelled in every possible manner, in this way:—"The world, therefore, is governed on some settled plan;" or else, when it has briefly united both the proposition and the assumption, it adds this which is derived from both of them together, in this way:—"But if those things are managed better which are conducted on a settled plan, than those which are conducted without such settled plan; and if nothing whatever is managed better than the entire world; therefore it follows that the world is managed on a settled plan." And in this way they think that such argumentation has five divisions.

XXXV. But those who affirm that it has only three divisions, do not think that the argumentation ought to be conducted in any other way, but they find fault with this arrangement of the divisions. For they say that neither the proposition nor the assumption ought to be separated from their proofs; and that a proposition does not appear to be complete, nor an assumption perfect, which is not corroborated by proof. Therefore, they say that what those other men divide into two parts, proposition and proof, appears to them one part only, namely proposition. For if it be not proved, the proposition has no business to make part of the argumentation. In the same way they say that that which those other men call the assumption, and the proof of the assumption, appears to them to be assumption only. And the result is, that the whole argumentation being treated in the same way, appears to some susceptible of five divisions, and to others of only three; so that the difference does not so much affect the practice of speaking, as the principles on which the rules are to be laid down.

But to us that arrangement appears to be more convenient which divides it under five heads; and that is the one which all those who come from the school of Aristotle, or of Theophrastus, have chiefly followed. For as it is chiefly Socrates and the disciples of Socrates who have employed that former sort of argumentation which goes on induction, so this which is wrought up by ratiocination has been exceedingly practised by Aristotle, and the Peripatetics, and Theophrastus; and after them by those rhetoricians who are accounted the most elegant and the most skilful. And it seems desirable to explain why that arrangement is more approved of by us, that we may not appear to have adopted it capriciously; at the same time we must be brief in the explanation, that we may not appear to dwell on such subjects longer than the general manner of laying down rules requires.

XXXVI. If in any sort of argumentation it is sufficient to use a proposition by itself, and if it is not requisite to add proof to the proposition; but if in any sort of argumentation a proposition is of no power unless proof be added to it; then proof is something distinct from the proposition. For that which can be joined to a thing or separated from it, cannot possibly be the same thing with that to which it is joined or from which it is separated. But there is a certain kind of argumentation in which the proposition does not require confirmatory proof, and also another kind in which it is of no use at all without such proof, as we shall show. Proof, then, is a thing different from a proposition. And we will demonstrate that point which we have promised to show in this way:—The proposition which contains in itself something manifest, because it is unavoidable that that should be admitted by all men, has no necessity for our desiring to prove and corroborate it.