The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4

He is a gentle, moderate man, imitating the usual customs, differing from those who are not eloquent in fact rather than in any of his opinions. Therefore those who are his hearers, even though they themselves have no skill in speaking, still feel confident that they could speak in that manner. For the subtlety of his address appears easy of imitation to a person who ventures on an opinion, but nothing is less easy when he comes to try it; for although it is not a style of any extraordinary vigour, still it has some juice, so that even though it is not endowed with the most extreme power, it is still, if I may use such an expression, in perfect health. First of all, then, let us release it from the fetters of rhythm. For there is, as you know, a certain rhythm to be observed by an orator, (and of that we will speak presently,) proceeding on a regular system; but though it must be attended to in another kind of oratory, it must be entirely abandoned in this. This must be a sort of easy style, and yet not utterly without rules, so that it may seem to range at freedom, not to wander about licentiously. He should also guard against appearing to cement his words together; for the hiatus formed by a concourse of open vowels has something soft about it, and indicates a not unpleasing negligence, as if the speaker were anxious more about the matter than the manner of his speech. But as to other points, he must take care, especially as he is allowed more licence in these two,—I mean the rounding of his periods, and the combination of his words; for those narrow and minute details are not to be dealt with carelessly. But there is such a thing as a careful negligence; for as some women are said to be unadorned to whom that very want of ornament is becoming, so this refined sort of oratory is delightful even when unadorned. For in each case a result is produced that the thing appears more beautiful, though the cause is not apparent. Then every conspicuous ornament will be removed, even pearls; even curling-irons will be put away; and all medicaments of paint and chalk, all artificial red and white, will be discarded; only elegance and neatness will remain. The language will be pure and Latin; it will be arranged plainly and clearly, and great care will be taken to see what is becoming.

XXIV. One quality will be present, which Theophrastus calls the fourth in his praises of oratory;—full of ornament, sweetness, and fluency. Clever sentiments, extracted from I know not what secret store, will be brought out, and will exert their power in the speeches of this perfect orator. There will be a moderate use of what I may call oratorical furniture; for there is to a certain degree what I may call our furniture, consisting of ornaments partly of things and partly of words. But the ornaments consisting of words are twofold: one kind consisting of words by themselves, the other consisting of them in combination. The simple embellishment is approved of in the case of proper and commonly employed words, which either sound very well, or else are very explanatory of the subject; in words which do not naturally belong to the subject,—it is either metaphorical, or borrowed from some other quarter; or else it is derived from the subject, whether it is a new term, or an old one grown obsolete; but even old and almost obsolete terms may be proper ones, only that we seldom employ them. But words when well arranged have great ornament if they give any neatness, which does not remain if the words are altered while the sense remains. For the embellishments of sentiments which remain, even if you alter the language in which they are expressed, are many, but still there are but few of them which are worth remarking.

Therefore a simple orator, provided he is elegant and not bold in the matter of making words, and modest in his metaphors, and sparing in his use of obsolete terms, and humble in the rest of his ornaments of words and sentences, will perhaps indulge in a tolerably frequent use of that kind of metaphor which is common in the ordinary conversation, not only of city people, but even of rustics; since they too are in the habit of saying, "that the vines sparkle with jewels," "that the fields are thirsty," "that the corn-fields are rejoicing," "that the crops are luxuriant." Now there is not one of these expressions which is not somewhat bold; but the thing is either like that which you use metaphorically; or else, if it has no name of its own, the expression which you use appears to have been borrowed for the sake of teaching, not of jesting. And this quiet sort of orator will use this ornament with rather more freedom than the rest; and yet he will not do it with as much licence as if he were practising the loftiest kind of oratory.

XXV. Therefore that unbecomingness (and what that is may be understood from the definition we have given of what is becoming) is visible here also, when some sublime expression is used metaphorically, and is used in a lowly style of oration, though it might have been becoming in a different one. But the neatness which I have spoken of, which illuminates the arrangement of language by these lights which the Greeks, as if they were some gestures of the speech, call [Greek: schaemata], (and the same word is applied by them also to the embellishments of sentences,) is employed by the refined orator (whom some men call the Attic orator, and rightly too, if they did not mean that he was the only one) but sparingly. For, as in the preparation of a feast, a man while on his guard against magnificence, is desirous to be thought not only economical but also elegant, he will choose what is best for him to use. For there are many kinds of economy suited to this very orator of whom I am speaking; for the ornaments which I have previously been mentioning are to be avoided by this acute orator,—I mean the comparing like with like, and the similarly sounding and equally measured ends of sentences, and graces hunted out as it were by the alteration of a letter; so that it may not be visible that neatness has been especially aimed at, and so that the orator may not be detected in having been hunting for means of pleasing the ears of his audience.

Again, if repetitions of the same expressions require a sort of vehemence and loudness of voice, they will then be unsuited to the simple style of oratory. The orator may use other embellishments promiscuously; only let him relax and separate the connexion of the words, and use as ordinary expressions as possible, and as gentle metaphors. Let him even avail himself of those lights of sentiments, as long as they are not too brilliant. He will not make the republic speak; nor will he raise the dead from the shades below; nor will he collect together a number of particulars in one heap, and so fold them in one embrace. Such deeds belong to more vigorous beings, nor are they to be expected or required from this man of whom we are giving a sketch; for he will be too moderate not only in his voice, but also in his style. But there are many embellishments which will suit his simple style, although he will use even them in a strict manner; for that is his character.

He will have besides this, action, not tragic, nor suited to the stage, but he will move his body in a moderate degree, trusting a great deal to his countenance; not in such a way as people call making faces but in a manner sufficient to show in a gentlemanlike manner in what sense he means what he is saying to be understood.

XXVI. Now in this kind of speech sallies of wit are admissible, and they carry perhaps only too much weight in an oration. Of them there are two kinds,—facetiousness and raillery,—and the orator will employ both; but he will use the one in relating anything neatly, and the other in darting ridicule on his adversaries. And of this latter kind there are more descriptions than one; however, it is a different thing that we are discussing now. Nevertheless we may give this warning,—that the orator ought to use ridicule in such a way as neither to indulge in it too often, that it may not seem like buffoonery; nor in a covertly obscure manner, that it may not seem like the wit of a comedian; nor in a petulant manner, lest it should seem spiteful; nor should he ridicule calamity, lest that should seem inhuman; nor crime, lest laughter should usurp the place which hatred ought to occupy; nor should he employ this weapon when unsuitable to his own character, or to that of the judges, or to the time; for all such conduct would come under the head of unbecoming.

The orator must also avoid using jests ready prepared, such as do not arise out of the occasion, but are brought from home; for they are usually frigid. And he must spare friendships and dignities. He will avoid such insults as are not to be healed; he will only aim at his adversaries, and not even always at them, nor at all of them, nor in every manner. And with these exceptions, he will employ his sallies of wit and his facetiousness in such a manner as I have never found any one of those men do who consider themselves Attic speakers, though there is nothing more Attic than that practice.

This is the sketch which I conceive to be that of a plain orator, but still of a great one, and one of a genius very kindred to the Attic; since whatever is witty or pleasant in a speech is peculiar to the Attics. Not, however, that all of them are facetious: Lysias is said to be tolerably so, and Hyperides; Demades is so above all others. Demosthenes is considered less so, though nothing appears to me to be more well-bred than he is; but he was not so much given to raillery as to facetiousness. And the former is the quality of a more impetuous disposition; the latter betokens a more refined art.

XXVII. There is another style more fertile, and somewhat more forcible than this simple style of which we have been speaking; but nevertheless tamer than the highest class of oratory, of which I shall speak immediately. In this kind there is but little vigour, but there is the greatest possible quantity of sweetness; for it is fuller than the plain style, but more plain than that other which is highly ornamented and copious.

Every kind of ornament in speaking is suitable to this style; and in this kind of oratory there is a great deal of sweetness. It is a style in which many men among the Greeks have been eminent; but Demetrius Phalereus, in my opinion, has surpassed all the rest; and while his oratory proceeds in calm and tranquil flow, it receives brilliancy from numerous metaphors and borrowed expressions, like stars.

I call them metaphors, as I often do, which, on account of their similarity to some other idea, are introduced into a speech for the sake of sweetness, or to supply a deficiency in a language. By borrowed expressions I mean those in which, for the proper word, another is substituted which has the same sense, and which is derived from some subsequent fact. And though this too is a metaphorical usage; still Ennius employed it in one manner when he said, "You are orphaning the citadel and the city;" and he would have used it in a different manner if he had used the word "citadel," meaning "country." Again, when he says that "horrid Africa trembles with a terrible tumult," he uses "Africa" for "Africans." The rhetoricians call this "hypallage," because one word as it were is substituted for another. The grammarians call it "metonymia," because names are transferred. But Aristotle classes them all under metaphor, and so he does the misuse of terms which they call [Greek: katachraesis]. As when we call a mind "minute" instead of "little," and misuse words which are near to others in sense; if there is any necessity for so doing, or any pleasure, or any particular becomingness in doing so. When many metaphors succeed one another uninterruptedly the sort of oration becomes entirely changed. Therefore the Greeks call it [Greek: allaegoria], rightly as to name; but as to its class he speaks more accurately who calls all such usages metaphors. Phalereus is particularly fond of these usages, and they are very agreeable; and although there is a great deal of metaphor in his speaking, yet there is no one who makes a more frequent use of the metonymia.

The same kind of oratory, (I am speaking of the moderate and temperate kind), admits of all sorts of figures of expressions, and of many also of ideas. Discussions of wide application and extensive learning are explained in it, and common topics are treated without any impetuosity. In a word, orators of this class usually come from the schools of philosophers, and unless the more vigorous orator, whom I am going to speak of presently, is at hand to be compared with them, the one whom I am now describing will be approved of. For there is a remarkable and flowery and highly-coloured and polished style of oratory, in which every possible elegance of expression and idea is connected together. And it is from the fountain of the sophist that all this has flowed into the forum; but still, being despised by the subtle arguers, and rejected by dignified speakers, it has taken its place in the moderate kind of oratory of which I am speaking.

XXVIII. The third kind of orator is the sublime, copious, dignified, ornate speaker, in whom there is the greatest amount of grace. For he it is, out of admiration for whose ornamented style and copiousness of language nations have allowed eloquence to obtain so much influence in states; but it was only this eloquence, which is borne along in an impetuous course, and with a mighty noise, which all men looked up to, and admired, and had no idea that they themselves could possibly attain to. It belongs to this eloquence to deal with men's minds, and to influence them in every imaginable way. This is the style which sometimes forces its way into and sometimes steals into the senses; which implants new opinions in men, and eradicates others which have been long established. But there is a vast difference between this kind of orator and the preceding ones. A man who has laboured at the subtle and acute style, in order to be able to speak cunningly and cleverly, and who has had no higher aim, if he has entirely attained his object, is a great orator, if not a very great one; he is far from standing on slippery ground, and if he once gets a firm footing, is in no danger of falling. But the middle kind of orator, whom I have called moderate and temperate, if he has only arranged all his own forces to his satisfaction, will have no fear of any doubtful or uncertain chances of oratory; and even if at any time he should not be completely successful, which may often be the case, still he will be in no great danger, for he cannot fall far. But this orator of ours, whom we consider the first of orators, dignified, vehement, and earnest, if this is the only thing for which he appears born, or if this is the only kind of oratory to which he applies himself, and if he does not combine his copiousness of diction with those other two kinds of oratory, is very much to be despised. For the one who speaks simply, inasmuch as he speaks with shrewdness and sense, is a wise man; the one who employs the middle style is agreeable; but this most copious speaker, if he is nothing else, appears scarcely in his senses. For a man who can say nothing with calmness, nothing with gentleness; who seems ignorant of all arrangement and definition and distinctness, and regardless of wit, especially when some of his causes require to be treated in that matter entirely, and others in a great degree; if he does not prepare the ears of his hearers before he begins to work up the case in an inflammatory style, he seems like a madman among people in their senses, or like a drunken man among sober men.

XXIX. We have then now, O Brutus, the orator whom we are looking for; but only in our mind's eye. For if I had had hold of him in my hand, even he himself, with all his eloquence, should never have persuaded me to let him go. But, in truth, that eloquent man whom Antonius never saw is now discovered. Who then is he? I will define him in a few words, and then describe him at length. For he is an eloquent man who can speak of low things acutely, and of great things with dignity, and of moderate things with temper.

Such a man you will say there never was. Perhaps there never was; for I am only discussing what I wish to see, and not what I have seen. And I come back to that sketch and idea of Plato's which I mentioned before; and although we do not see it, yet we can comprehend it in our mind. For I am not looking for an eloquent man, or for any other mortal or transitory thing; but for that particular quality which whoever is master of is an eloquent man; and that is nothing but abstract eloquence, which we are not able to discern with any eyes except those of the mind. He then will be an eloquent man, (to repeat my former definition,) who can speak of small things in a lowly manner, of moderate things in a temperate manner, and of great things with dignity. The whole of the cause in which I spoke for Caecina related to the language or an interdict: we explained some very involved matters by definitions; we praised the civil law; we distinguished between words of doubtful meaning. In a discussion on the Manilian law it was requisite to praise Pompey; and accordingly, in a temperate speech, we arrived at a copiousness of ornament. The whole question, of the rights of the people was contained in the cause of Rabinius; and accordingly we indulged in every conceivable amplification. But these styles require at times to be regulated and restrained. What kind of argument is there which is not found in my five books of impeachment of Verres? or in my speech for Avitus? or in that for Cornelius? or in the other numerous speeches in defence of different men? I would give instances, if I did not believe them to be well known, and that those who wanted them could select them for themselves; for there is no effort of an orator of any kind, of which there is not in our speeches, if not a perfect example, at least some attempt at and sketch of. If we cannot arrive at perfection, at all events we see what is becoming.

Nor are we at present speaking of ourselves, but of eloquence, in which we are so far from having a high opinion of our own proficiency, that we are so hard to please and exacting, that even Demosthenes himself does not satisfy us. For he, although he is eminent above all men in every description of oratory, still he does not always satisfy my ears; so greedy and capacious are they, and so unceasingly desiring something vast and infinite.

XXX. But still, since you became thoroughly well acquainted with this orator, in company with his devoted admirer Pammenes, when you were at Athens, and as you never put him down out of your hands, though, nevertheless, you are often reading my works, you see forsooth that he accomplishes many things, and that we attempt many things;—that he has the power, we the will to speak in whatever manner the cause requires. But he was a great man, for he came after great men, and he had consummate orators for his contemporaries. We should have done a great deal if we had been able to arrive at the goal which we proposed to ourselves in a city in which, as Antonius says, no eloquent man had been ever heard before. But, if Crassus did not appear to Antonius to be eloquent, or if he did not think he was so himself, certainly Cotta would never have seemed so to him, nor Sulpicius, nor Hortensius. For Cotta never said anything sublime, Sulpicius never said anything gently, Hortensius seldom spoke with dignity. Those former men were much more suited to every style; I mean Crassus and Antonius. We feel, therefore, that the ears of the city were not much accustomed to this varied kind of eloquence, and to an oratory so equally divided among all sorts of styles. And we, such as we were, and however insignificant were our attempts, were the first people to turn the exceeding fondness of the people for listening to this kind of eloquence.

What an outcry was there when, as quite a young man I uttered that sentence about the punishment of parricides! and even a long time afterwards we found that it had scarcely entirely worn off. "For what is so common, as breath to living people, the earth to the dead, the sea to people tossed about by the waves, or the shore to shipwrecked mariners?—they live while they are let live, in such a way as to be unable to breathe the air of heaven; they die so that their bones do not touch the earth; they are tossed about by the waves without ever being washed by them; and at last they are cast up by them in such a manner, that when dead they are not allowed a resting-place even on the rocks." And so on. For all this is the language of a young man, extolled not on account of any real merit or maturity of judgment, as for the hopes and expectations which he gave grounds for. From the same turn of mind came that more polished invective,—"the wife of her son-in-law; the mother-in-law of her son, the invader of her daughter's bed." Not, however, that this ardour was always visible in us, so as to make us say everything in this manner. For that very juvenile exuberance of speech in defence of Roscius has many weak passages in it, and some merry ones, such as also occur in the speech for Avitus, for Cornelius, and many others. For no orator has ever, even in the Greek language, written as many speeches as I have. And my speeches have the variety which I so much approve of.

XXXI. Should I permit Homer, and Ennius, and the rest of the poets, and especially the tragic poets, to forbear displaying the same vehemence on every occasion, and constantly to change their language, and sometimes even to come near to the ordinary language of daily conversation; and never myself descend from that fierce style of vehement expression? But why do I cite poets of godlike genius? We have seen actors, than whom nothing could be more admirable of their kind, who have not only given great satisfaction in the representation of the most different characters, and also in their own, but we have seen even a comedian gain great applause in tragedies, and a tragedian in comedies;—and shall not I attempt the same thing? When I say I, O Brutus, I mean you also; for, as for myself, all that can be done has been done. But will you plead every cause in the same manner, or are there some kind of causes which you will reject? or will you employ the same uninterrupted vehemence in the same causes without any alteration?

Demosthenes, indeed, whose bust of brass I lately saw between the images of yourself and your ancestors, (a proof, I suppose, of your fondness for him,) when I was with you at your Tusculan villa, does not yield at all to Lysias in acuteness, nor in shrewdness and cleverness to Hyperides, nor in gentleness or brilliancy of language to Aeschines. Many of his orations are very closely argued, as that against Leptines; many are wholly dignified, as some of the Philippics; many are of varied style, as those against Aeschines, the one about the false embassy, and the one also, against the same Aeschines in the cause of Ctesiphon. As often as he pleases he adopts the middle style, and, departing from his dignified tone, he indulges in that lower one. But when he raises the greatest outcry on the part of his hearers, and makes the greatest impression by his speech, is when he employs the topics of dignity.

However, let us leave Demosthenes for awhile, since it is a class that we are inquiring about, and not an individual. Let us rather explain the effect and nature of the thing; that is, of Eloquence. And let us recollect what we have just said, that we are not going to say anything for the sake of giving rules; but that we are going to speak so as to be thought people expressing an opinion rather than teaching. Though we often do advance further, because we see that you are not the only person who will read this; you who, in fact, know all this much better than we ourselves who appear to be teaching you; but it is quite certain that this book will be extensively known, if not from the recommendation which its being my work will give it, at all events, because of its appearing under the sanction of your name, by being dedicated to you.

XXXII. I think, then, that it belongs to a perfectly eloquent man, not only to have the ability, which is his peculiar province, of speaking copiously and with the assertion of large principles, but also to possess its neighbouring and contiguous science of dialectics: although an oration appears one thing and a discussion another; nor is talking the same thing as speaking; though each belongs to discussing. Let then the system of discussing and talking belong to the logicians; but let the province of the orators be to speak and to embellish their speeches. Zeno, that great man, who founded the school of the Stoics, was in the habit of showing with his hand what was the difference between these arts; for when he had compressed his fingers and made a fist, he said that dialectics were like that; but when he had opened his fingers and expanded his hand, he said that eloquence was like his open palm. And even before him Aristotle, in the beginning of his Rhetoric, said, that the art of eloquence in one portion of it corresponded to dialectics; so that they differ from one another in this, that the system of speaking is more wide, that of talking more contracted. I wish, then, that this consummate orator should be acquainted with the entire system of talking, as far as it can be applied to speaking; and that (as indeed you, who have a thorough acquaintance with these arts, are well aware) has a twofold method of teaching. For Aristotle himself has given many rules for arguing: and those who followed him, and who are called dialecticians, have delivered many very difficult rules. Therefore I think, that the man who is tempted by the glory of eloquence, is not utterly ignorant of those things; but that he has been brought up either in that old school, or in the school of Chrysippus. Let him first acquaint himself with the meaning and nature and classes of words, both single and combined; then let him learn in how many ways each word is used; then how it is decided, whether a thing is false or true; then what results from each proposition; then to what argument each result is a consequence, and to what it is contrary; and, as many things are stated in an ambiguous manner, he must also learn how each of them ought to be distinguished and explained. This is what must be acquired by an orator; for those things are constantly occurring; but, because they are in their own nature less attractive, it is desirable to employ some brilliancy of eloquence in explaining them.