The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4

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.

But there are these five lights, as it were, which are common to both single words and combined expressions,—they must be clear, concise, probable, intelligible, agreeable. Clearness is produced by common words, appropriate, well arranged, in a well-rounded period: on the other hand, obscurity is caused by either too great length, or a too great contraction of the sentence; or by ambiguity; or by any misuse or alteration of the ordinary sense of the words. But brevity is produced by simple words, by speaking only once of each point, by aiming at no one object except speaking clearly. But an oration is probable, if it is not too highly decorated and polished; if there is authority and thought in its expressions; if its sentiments are either dignified, or else consistent with the opinions and customs of men. But an oration is brilliant, if expressions are used which are chosen with gravity, and used in metaphorical and hyperbolical senses; and if it is also full of words suited to the circumstances, and reiterated, and having the same sense, and not inconsistent with the subject under discussion, and with the imitation of things: for this is one part of an oration which almost brings the actual circumstances before our eyes, for then the sense is most easily arrived at but still the other senses also, and especially the mind itself, can be influenced by it. But the things which have been said about a clear speech, all have reference also to the brilliant one which we are now speaking of, for this is only a kind somewhat more brilliant than that which I have called clear. By one kind we are made to understand, but by the other one we actually appear to see. But the kind of speaking which is agreeable, consists first of all of an elegance and pleasantness of sounding and sweet words, secondly, of a combination which has no harsh unions of words, nor any disjoined and open vowels, and it must also be bounded with limited periods, and in paragraphs easily to be pronounced, and full of likeness and equality in the sentences. Then again, arguments derived from contrary expressions must be added, so that repetitions must answer to repetitions, like to like and expressions must be added, repeated, redoubled, and even very frequently reiterated, the construction of the sentences must at one time be compacted by means of conjunctions, and at another relaxed by separation of the clauses. For an oration becomes agreeable when you say anything unexpected, or unheard of, or novel, for whatever excites wonder gives pleasure. And that oration especially influences the hearer which unites several affections of the mind, and which indicate the amiable manners of the orator himself, which are represented either by signifying his own opinion, and showing it to proceed from a humane and liberal disposition, or by a turn in the language, when for the sake either of extolling another or of disparaging himself, the orator seems to say one thing and mean another, and that too seems to be done out of courtesy rather than out of levity. But there are many rules for sweetness in speaking, which may make a speech either more obscure or less probable, therefore, while on this topic, we must decide for ourselves what the cause requires.

VII C. F. It remains, then, now for you to speak of the alterations and changes in a speech.

C. P. The whole of that, then, consists in the alteration of words, and that alteration is managed in such a way in the case of single words, that the style may either be dilated by words, or contracted. It may be dilated, when a word which is either peculiar, or which has the same signification, or which has been coined on purpose, is extended by paraphrase. Or again, in another way, when a definition is held down to a single word, or when expressions borrowed from something else are banished, or made use of in a roundabout sense, or when one word is made up out of two. But in compound words a threefold change can be made, not of words, but only of order, so that when a thing has once been said plainly, as nature itself prompts, the order may be inverted, and the expression may be repeated, turned upside down, as it were, or backwards and forwards. Then again the same expression may be reiterated in a mutilated, or re arranged, form. But the practice of speaking is very much occupied in all these kinds of conversion.

C. F. The next point is action, if I do not mistake.

C. P. It is so, and that must be constantly varied by the orator, in correspondence with the importance of his subjects and of his expressions. For the orator makes an oration clear, and brilliant, and probable, and agreeable, not only by his words, but also by the variety of his tones, by the gestures of his body, by the changes of his countenance, which will be of great weight if they harmonize with the character of his address, and follow its energy and variety.

C. F. Is there nothing remaining to be said about the orator himself?

C. P. Nothing at all, except as to memory, which is in a certain manner the sister of writing, and though in a different class greatly resembles it. For as it consists of the characters of letters, and of that substance on which those characters are impressed, so a perfect memory uses topics, as writing does wax, and on them arranges its images as if they were letters.

VIII C. F. Since, then, you have thus explained all the power of an orator, what have you to tell me about the rules for an oration?

C. P. That there are four divisions in an oration, of which the first and last are of avail to excite such and such feelings in the mind, for they are to be excited by the openings and perorations of speeches: the second is narration: and the third, being confirmation, adds credibility to a speech. But although amplification has its own proper place, being often in the opening of a speech, and almost always at the end still it may be employed also in other parts of the speech especially when any point has been established, or when the orator has been finding fault with something. Therefore, it is of the very greatest influence in producing belief. For amplification is a sort of vehement argumentation; the one being used for the sake of teaching, the other with the object of acting on the feelings.

C. F. Proceed, then, to explain to me these four divisions in regular order.

C. P. I will do so; and I will begin with the opening of a speech, which is usually derived either from the persons concerned, or from the circumstances of the case. And openings are employed with three combined objects, that we may be listened to with friendly feelings, intelligently and attentively. And the first topic employed in openings has reference to ourselves, to our judges, and to our adversaries; from which we aim at laying the foundations of good-will towards us, either by our own merits, or by our dignity, or by some kind of virtue, and especially by the qualities of liberality, duty, justice, and good faith; and also by imputing opposite qualities to our adversaries, and by intimating that the judges themselves have some interest on our side, either in existence, or in prospect. And if any hatred has been excited against, or any offence been given by us, we then apply ourselves to remove or diminish that, by denying or extenuating the cause, or by atoning for it, or by deprecating hostility.

But in order that we may be listened to in an intelligent and attentive manner, we must begin with the circumstances of the case themselves. But the hearer learns and understands what the real point in dispute is most easily if you, from the first beginning of your speech, embrace the whole genus and nature of the cause,—if you define it, and divide it, and neither perplex his discernment by the confusion, nor his memory by the multitude, of the several parts of your discourse; and all the things which will presently be said about lucid narration may also with propriety be considered as bearing on this division too. But that we may be listened to with attention, we must do one of these things. For we must advance some propositions which are either important, or necessary, or connected with the interests of those before whom the discussion is proceeding. This also may be laid down as a rule, that, if ever the time itself, or the facts of the case, or the place, or the intervention of any one, or any interruption, or anything which may have been said by the adversary, and especially in his peroration, has given us any opportunity of saying anything well suited to the occasion, we must on no account omit it. And many of the rules, which we give in their proper place, about amplification, may be transferred here to the consideration of the opening of a speech.

IX. C. F. What next? What rules, then, are to be attended to in narration?

C. P. Since narration is an explanation of facts, and a sort of base and foundation for the establishment of belief, those rules are most especially to be observed in it, which apply also, for the most part, to the other divisions of speaking; part of which are necessary, and part are assumed for the sake of embellishment. For it is necessary for us to narrate events in a clear and probable manner; but we must also attend to an agreeable style. Therefore, in order to narrating with clearness, we must go back to those previous rules for explaining and illustrating facts, in which brevity is enjoined and taught. And brevity is one of the points most frequently praised in narration, and we have already dwelt enough upon it. Again, our narrative will be probable, if the things which are related are consistent with the character of the persons concerned, with the times and places mentioned,—if the cause of every fact and event is stated,—if they appear to be proved by witnesses,—if they are in accordance with the opinions and authority of men, with law, with custom, and with religion,—if the honesty of the narrator is established, his candour, his memory, the uniform truth of his conversation, and the integrity of his life. Again, a narration is agreeable which contains subjects calculated to excite admiration, expectation, unlooked-for results, sudden feelings of the mind, conversations between people, grief, anger, fear, joy, desires. However, let us proceed to what follows.

C. F. What follows is, I suppose, what relates to producing belief.

C. P. Just so; and those topics are divided into confirmation and reprehension. For in confirmation we seek to establish our own assertion; in reprehension, to invalidate those of our adversaries. Since, then, everything which is ever the subject of a dispute, is so because the question is raised whether it exists or not, or what it is, or of what character it is, in the first question conjecture has weight, in the second, definition, and in the third, reasoning.

X. C. F. I understand this division. At present, I ask, what are the topics of conjecture?

C. P. They arise from probabilities, and turn wholly on the peculiar characteristics of things. But for the sake of instructing you, I will call that probable which is generally done in such and such a way as it is probable that youth should be rather inclined to lust. But the indication of an appropriate characteristic is something which never happens in any other way, and which declares something which is certain as smoke is a proof of fire. Probabilities are discovered from the parts and, as it were, members of a narration. They exist in persons, in places, in times, in facts, in events, in the nature of the facts and circumstances which may be under discussion.

But in persons, the first things considered are the natural qualities of health, figure, strength, age, and whether they are male or female. And all these concern the body alone. But the qualities of the mind, or how they are affected, depends on virtues, vices, arts, and want of art, or in another sense, on desire, fear, pleasure, or annoyance. And these are the natural circumstances which are principally considered.

In fortune, we look at a man's race, his friends, his children, his relations, his kinsmen, his wealth, his honours, his power, his estates, his freedom, and also at all the contraries to these circumstances. But in respect of place, some things arise from nature as, whether a place is on the coast or at a distance from the sea, whether it is level or mountainous, whether it is smooth or rough, wholesome or pestilential, shady or sunny, these again are fortuitous circumstances,—whether a place is cultivated or uncultivated frequented or deserted, full of houses or naked, obscure or ennobled by the traces of mighty exploits, consecrated or profane.

XI. But in respect of time, one distinguishes between the present, and the past, and the future. And in these divisions there are the further subdivisions of ancient, recent, immediate, likely to happen soon, or likely to be very remote. In time there are also these other divisions, which mark, as it were natural sections of time as winter, spring, summer and autumn. Or again, the periods of the year: as a month, a day, a night, an hour, a season, all these are natural divisions. There are other accidental divisions such as days of sacrifice, days of festival, weddings. Again, facts and events are either designed or unintentional, and these last arise either from pure accident, or from some agitation of mind, by accident when a thing has happened in a different way from what was expected,—from some agitation, when either forgetfulness, or mistake, or fear, or some impulse of desire has been the acting cause. Necessity, too, must be classed among the causes of unintentional actions or results.

Again, of good and bad things there are three classes. For they can exist either in men's minds or bodies, or they may be external to both of these materials, then, as far as they are subordinate to argument, all the parts must be carefully turned over in the mind, and conjectures bearing on the subject before us must be derived from each part.

There is also another class of arguments which is derived from traces of a fact, as a weapon, blood, an outcry which has been raised, trepidation, changes of complexion, inconsistency of explanation, trembling, or any of these circumstances which can be perceived by our senses, or if anything appears to have been prepared, or communicated to any one, or if anything has been seen or heard, or if any information has been given.

But of probabilities some influence us separately by their own weight, some, although they appear trifling by themselves, still, when all collected together, have great influence. And in such probabilities as these there are sometimes some unerring and peculiar distinguishing characteristics of things. But what produces the surest belief in a probability is, first of all, a similar instance, then the similarity of the present case to that instance sometimes even a fable, though it is an incredible one, has its influence, nevertheless, on men's minds.

XII. C. F. What next? What is the principle of definition, and what is the system of it?

C. P. There is no doubt but that definition belongs to the genus, and is distinguishable by a certain peculiarity of the characteristics which it mentions, or else by a number of common circumstances, from which we may extract something which looks like a peculiar property. But since there is often very great disagreement about what are peculiar properties, we must often derive our definitions from contraries, often from things dissimilar, often from things parallel. Wherefore descriptions also are often suitable in this kind of address, and an enumeration of consequences, and above all things, an explanation of the names and terms employed, is most effectual.

C. F. You have now then explained nearly all the questions which arise about a fact, or about the name given to such fact. The next thing is, when the fact itself and its proper title are agreed upon, that a doubt arises as to what its character is.

C. P. You are quite right.

C. F. What divisions, then, are there in this part of the argument?

C. P. One urges either that what has been done has been lawfully done, for the sake either of warding off or of avenging an injury, or under pretext of piety, or chastity, or religion, or one's country, or else that it has been done through necessity, out of ignorance, or by chance. For those things which have been done in consequence of some motion or agitation of the mind, without any positive intention, have, in legal proceedings, no defence if they are impeached, though they may have an excuse if discussed on principles unfettered by strict rules of law. In this class of discussion, in which the question is, what the character of the act is, one inquires, in the terms of the controversy, whether the act has been rightly and lawfully done or not; and the discussion on these points turns on a definition of the before-mentioned topics.

C. F. Since, then, you have divided the topics to give credit to an oration into confirmation and reprehension, and since you have fully discussed the one, explain to me now the subject of reprehension.

C. P. You must either deny the whole of what the adversary has assumed in argumentation, if you can show it to be fictitious or false, or you must refute what he has assumed as probable. First of all, you must urge that he has taken what is doubtful as if it were certain; in the next place, that the very same things might be said in cases which were evidently false; and lastly, that these things which he has assumed do not produce the consequences which he wishes to be inferred from them. And you must attack his details, and by that means break down his whole argument. Instances also must be brought forward which were overruled in a similar discussion; and you must wind up with the complaints of the condition of the general danger, if the life of innocent men is exposed to the ingenuity of men devoted to calumny.

XIII. C. F. Since I know now whence arguments can be derived which have a tendency to create belief, I am waiting to hear how they are severally to be handled in speaking.

C. P. You seem to be inquiring about argumentation, and as to how to develop arguments.

C. F. That is the very thing that I want to know.

C. P. The development, then, of an argument is argumentation; and that is when you assume things which are either certain or at least probable, from which to derive a conclusion, which taken by itself is doubtful, or at all events not very probable. But there are two kinds of arguing, one of which aims directly at creating belief, the other principally looks to exciting such and such feelings. It goes straight on when it has proposed to itself something to prove, and assumed grounds on which it may depend; and when these have been established, it comes back to its original proposition, and concludes. But the other kind of argumentation, proceeding as it were backwards and in an inverse way, first of all assumes what it chooses, and confirms it; and then, having excited the minds of the hearers, it throws on to the end that which was its original object. But there is this variety, and a distinction which is not disagreeable in arguing, as when we ask something ourselves, or put questions, or express some command, or some wish, as all these figures are a kind of embellishment to an oration. But we shall be able to avoid too much sameness, if we do not always begin with the proposition which we desire to establish, and if we do not confirm each separate point by dwelling on it separately, and if we are at times very brief in our explanation of what is sufficiently clear, and if we do not consider it at all times necessary to sum up and enumerate what results from these premises when it is sufficiently clear.

XIV. C. F. What comes next? Is there any way or any respect in which those things which are said to be devoid of art, and which you said just now were accessories to the main argument, require art?

C. P. Indeed they do. Nor are they called devoid of art because they really are so, but because it is not the art of the orator which produces them, but they are brought to him from abroad, as it were, and then he deals with them artistically; and this is especially the case as to witnesses. For it is often necessary to speak of the whole class of witnesses, and to show how weak it is; and to urge that arguments refer to facts, testimony to inclination; and one must have recourse to precedents of cases where witnesses were not believed; and with respect to individual witnesses, if they are by nature vain, trifling, discreditable, or if they have been influenced by hope, by fear, by anger, by pity, by bribery, by interest; and they must be compared with the authority of the witnesses in the case cited, where the witnesses were not believed. Often, also, one must resist examinations under torture, because many men, out of a desire to avoid pain, have often told lies under torture; and have preferred dying while confessing a falsehood to suffering pain while persisting in their denial. Many men, also, have been indifferent to the preservation of their own life, as long as they could save those who were dearer to them than they were to themselves; others, owing to the nature of their bodies, or to their being accustomed to pain, or because they feared punishment and execution, have endured the violence of torture; others, also, have told lies against those whom they hated. And all these arguments are to be fortified by instances. Nor is it at all uncertain that (since there are instances on both sides of a question, and topics also for forming conjectures on both sides) contrary arguments must be used in contrary cases. There is, also, another method of disparaging witnesses, and examinations under torture; for often those answers which have been given may be attacked very cleverly, if they have been expressed rather ambiguously or inconsistently, or with any incredible circumstances; or in different ways by different witnesses.