The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4 · Marcus Tullius Cicero

BOOK I.

Therefore, as I said before, it will be always proper to take into consideration the character of that exception which is added to the original proposition. For it will at all times have this influence, that either the necessity must be explained with reference to what is honourable, in this manner:--"It is necessary, if we wish to live with honour;" or with reference to safety, in this manner:--"It is necessary, if we wish to be safe;" or with reference to convenience, in this manner:--"It is necessary, if we are desirous to live without annoyance." LVIII. And the greatest necessity of all appears to be that which arises from what is honourable; the next to it is that which arises from considerations of safety; the third and least important is that which has ideas of convenience involved in it. But this last can never be put in comparison with the two former. But it is often indispensable to compare these together; so that although honour is more precious than safety, there is still room to deliberate which one is to consult in the greatest degree. And as to this point, it appears possible to give a settled rule which may be of lasting application. For in whatever circumstances it can happen by any possibility that while we are consulting our safety, that slight diminution of honesty which is caused by our conduct may be hereafter repaired by virtue and industry, then it seems proper to have a regard for our safety. But when that does not appear possible, then we must think of nothing but what is honourable. And so in a case of that sort when we appear to be consulting our safety, we shall be able to say with truth that we are also keeping our eyes fixed on what is honourable, since without safety we can never attain to that end.

And in these circumstances it will be desirable to yield to another, or to put oneself in another's place, or to keep quiet at present and wait for another opportunity. But when we are considering convenience, it is necessary to consider this point also,--whether the cause, as far as it has reference to usefulness, appears of sufficient importance to justify us in taking anything from splendour or honour. And while speaking on this topic, that appears to me to be the main thing, that we should inquire what that is which, whether we are desirous of obtaining or avoiding it, is something necessary; that is to say, what is the character of the addition; in order that, according as the matter is found to be, so we may exert ourselves, and consider the most important circumstances as being also the most necessary.

Affection is a certain way of looking at circumstances either with reference to the time, or to the result, or management of affairs, or to the desires of men, so that they no longer appear to be such as they were considered previously, or as they are generally in the habit of being considered. "It appears a base thing to go over to the enemy; but not with the view which Ulysses had when he went over. And it is a useless act to throw money into the sea; but not with the design which Aristippus had when he did so." There are, therefore, some circumstances which may be estimated with reference to the time at which and the intention with which they are done; and not according to their own intrinsic nature. In all which cases we must consider what the times require, or what is worthy of the persons concerned; and we must not think merely what is done, but with what intention, with what companions, and at what time, it is done. And from these divisions of the subject, we think that topics ought to be taken for delivering one's opinion.

LIX. But praise and blame must be derived from those topics which can be employed with respect to persons, and which we have already discussed. But if any one wishes to consider them in a more separate manner, he may divide them into the intention, and the person of the doer, and extraneous circumstances. The virtue of the mind is that concerning the parts of which we have lately spoken; the virtues of the body are health, dignity, strength, swiftness. Extraneous circumstances are honour, money, relationship, family, friends, country, power, and other things which are understood to be of a similar kind. And in all these, that which is of universal validity ought to prevail here; and the opposites will be easily understood as to their description and character. But in praising and blaming, it will be desirable to consider not so much the personal character of, or the extraneous circumstances affecting the person of whom one is speaking, as how he has availed himself of his advantages. For to praise his good fortune is folly, and to blame it is arrogance; but the praise of a man's natural disposition is honourable, and the blame of it is a serious thing. Now, since the principles of argumentation in every kind of cause have been set forth, it appears that enough has been said about invention, which is the first and most important part of rhetoric. Wherefore, since one portion of my work has been brought down to its end from the former book; and since this book has already run to a great length, what remains shall be discussed in subsequent books.

However, since you repeat your entreaties, I will attempt the task, not so much from any hope that I entertain of accomplishing it, as from my willingness to attempt it. For I had rather that you should find fault with my prudence in thus complying with your eager desire, than with my friendship in refusing to attempt it. You ask me then, and indeed you are constantly asking me, what kind of eloquence I approve of in the highest degree, and which sort of oratory I consider that to which nothing can be added, and which I therefore think the highest and most perfect kind. And in answering this question I am afraid lest, if I do what you wish, and give you an idea of the orator whom you are asking for, I may check the zeal of many, who, being discouraged by despair, will not make an attempt at what they have no hope of succeeding in. But it is good for all men to try everything, who have ever desired to attain any objects which are of importance and greatly to be desired. But if there be any one who feels that he is deficient either in natural power, or in any eminent force of natural genius, or that he is but inadequately instructed in the knowledge of important sciences, still let him hold on his course as far as he can. For if a man aims at the highest place, it is very honourable to arrive at the second or even the third rank. For in the poets there is room not only for Homer (to confine myself to the Greeks), or for Archilochus, or Sophocles, or Pindar, but there is room also for those who are second to them, or even below the second. Nor, indeed, did the nobleness of Plato in philosophical studies deter Aristotle from writing; nor did Aristotle himself, by his admirable knowledge and eloquence, extinguish the zeal in those pursuits of all other men.

II. And it is not only the case that eminent men have not been deterred by such circumstances from the highest class of studies, but even those artists have not renounced their art who have been unable to equal the beauty of the Talysus[58] which we have seen at Rhodes, or of the Coan Venus. Nor have subsequent sculptors been so far alarmed at the statue of the Olympian Jove, or of the Shield-bearer, as to give up trying what they could accomplish, or how far they could advance; and, indeed, there has been so vast a multitude of those men, and each of them has obtained so much credit in his own particular walk, that, while we admire the most perfect models, we have also approbation to spare for those who come short of them. But in the case of orators--I mean Greek orators--it is a marvellous thing how far one is superior to all the rest. And yet when Demosthenes flourished there were many illustrious orators, and so there were before his time, and the supply has not failed since. So that there is no reason why the hopes of those men, who have devoted themselves to the study of eloquence, should be broken, or why their industry should languish. For even the very highest pitch of excellency ought not to be despaired of; and in perfect things those things are very good which are next to the most perfect.

And I, in depicting a consummate orator, will draw a picture of such an one as perhaps never existed. For I am not asking who he was, but what that is than which nothing can be more excellent. And perhaps the perfection which I am looking for does not often shine forth, (indeed I do not know whether it ever has been seen,) but still in some degree it may at times be discoverable, among some nations more frequently, and among others more sparingly. But I lay down this position, that there is nothing of any kind so beautiful which has not something more beautiful still from which it is copied,--as a portrait is from a person's face,--though it can neither be perceived by the eyes or ears, or by any other of the senses; it is in the mind only, and by our thoughts, that we embrace it. Therefore, though we have never seen anything of any kind more beautiful than the statues of Phidias and than those pictures which I have named, still we can imagine something more beautiful. Nor did that great artist, when he was making the statue of Jupiter or of Minerva, keep in his mind any particular person of whom he was making a likeness; but there dwelt in his mind a certain perfect idea of beauty, which he looked upon, and fixed his eyes upon, and guided his art and his hand with reference to the likeness of that model.

III. As therefore there is in forms and figures something perfect and superexcellent, the appearance of which is stamped in our minds so that we imitate it, and refer to it everything which falls under our eyes; so we keep in our mind an idea of perfect eloquence, and seek for its resemblance with our ears. Now Plato, that greatest of all authors and teachers, not only of understanding, but also of speaking, calls those forms of things ideas; and he affirms that they are not created, but that they exist from everlasting, and are kept in their places by reason and intelligence: that all other things have their rising and setting, their ebb and flow, and cannot continue long in the same condition. Whatever there is, therefore, which can become a subject of discussion as to its principle and method, is to be reduced to the ultimate form and species of its class. And I see that this first beginning of mine is derived not from the discussions of orators, but from the very heart of philosophy, and that it is old-fashioned and somewhat obscure, and likely to incur some blame, or at all events to provoke some surprise. For men will either wonder what all this has to do with that which is the subject of our inquiry, and they will be satisfied with understanding the nature of the facts, so that it may not seem to be without reason that we have traced their origin so far back; or else they will blame us for hunting out for unaccustomed paths, and abandoning those in ordinary use.

But I am aware that I often appear to say things which are novel, when I am in reality saying what is very old, only not generally known. And I confess that I have been made an orator, (if indeed I am one at all,) or such as I am, not by the workshops of the rhetoricians, but by the walks of the Academy. For that is the school of manifold and various discourses, in which first of all there are imprinted the footsteps of Plato. But the orator is to a great extent trained and assisted by his discussions and those of other philosophers. For all that copiousness, and forest, as it were, of eloquence, is derived from those men, and yet is not sufficient for forensic business; which, as these men themselves used to say, they left to more rustic muses. Accordingly this forensic eloquence, being despised and repudiated by philosophy, has lost many great and substantial helps; but still, as it is embellished with flowery language and well-turned periods, it has had some popularity among the people, and has had no reason to fear the judgment or prejudice of a few. And so popular eloquence has been lost to learned men, and elegant learning to eloquent ones.

IV. Let this then be laid down among the first principles, (and it will be better understood presently,)--that the eloquent man whom we are looking for cannot be rendered such without philosophy. Not indeed that there is everything necessary in philosophy, but that it is of assistance to an orator as the wrestling-school is to an actor; for small things are often compared with great ones. For no one can express wide views, or speak fluently on many and various subjects, without philosophy. Since also, in the Phaedrus of Plato, Socrates says that this is what Pericles was superior to all other orators in, that he had been a pupil of Anaxagoras the natural philosopher. And it was owing to him, in his opinion, (though he had learnt also many other splendid and admirable accomplishments,) that he was so copious and imaginative, and so thoroughly aware--which is the main thing in eloquence--by what kinds of speeches the different parts of men's minds are moved. And we may draw the same conclusion from the case of Demosthenes; from whose letters it may be gathered what a constant pupil of Plato's he was. Nor, indeed, without having studied in the schools of philosophers, can we discern the genus and species of everything; nor explain them by proper definitions; nor distribute them into their proper divisions; nor decide what is true and what is false; nor discern consequences, perceive inconsistencies, and distinguish what is doubtful. Why should I speak of the nature of things, the knowledge of which supplies such abundance of topics to oratory? or of life, and duty, and virtue, and manners? for what of all these things can be either spoken of or understood without a long study of those matters?

V. To these numerous and important things there are to be added innumerable ornaments, which at that time were only to be derived from those men who were accounted teachers of oratory. The consequence is, that no one applies himself to that genuine and perfect eloquence, because the study requisite for understanding those matters is different from that which enables me to speak of them; and because it is necessary to go to one class of teachers to understand the things, and to another to learn the proper language for them. Therefore Marcus Antonius, who in the time of our fathers was considered to be the most eminent of all men alive for eloquence, a manly nature very acute and eloquent, in that one treatise which he has left behind him, says that he has seen many fluent speakers, but not one eloquent orator, in truth, he had in his mind a model of eloquence which in his mind he saw, though he could not behold it with his eyes. But he, being a man of the most acute genius, (as indeed he was,) and feeling the want of many things both in himself and other men, saw absolutely no one who had fairly a right to be called eloquent. But if he did not think either himself or Lucius Crassus eloquent, then he certainly must have had in his mind some perfect model of eloquence; and as that had nothing wanting, he felt himself unable to include those who had anything or many things wanting in that class.

Let us then, O Brutus, if we can, investigate the nature of this man whom Antonius never beheld, or who perhaps has never even existed; and if we cannot imitate and copy him exactly, (which indeed Antonius said was scarcely possible for a god to do,) still we may perhaps be able to explain what he ought to be like. VI. There are altogether three different kinds of speaking, in each of which there have been some eminent men; but very few (though that is what we are now looking for) who have been equally eminent in all. For some have been grandiloquent men, (if I may use such an expression,) with an abundant dignity of sentiments and majesty of language, --vehement, various, copious, authoritative; well adapted and prepared to make an impression on and effect a change in men's feelings: an effect which some have endeavoured to produce by a rough, morose, uncivilized sort of speaking, not elaborated or wrought up with any care; and others employ a smooth, carefully prepared, and well rounded off style. On the other hand, there are men neat, acute, explaining everything, and making matters clearer, not nobler, polished up with a certain subtle and compressed style of oratory; and in the same class there are others, shrewd, but unpolished, and designedly resembling rough and unskilful speakers; and some who, with the same barrenness and simplicity, are still more elegant, that is to say, are facetious, flowery, and even slightly embellished.

But there is another class, half-way between these two, and as it were compounded of both of them, endowed neither with the acuteness of the last-mentioned orators, nor with the thunder of the former; as a sort of mixture of both, excelling in neither style; partaking of both, or rather indeed (if we would adhere to the exact truth) destitute of all the qualifications of either. Those men go on, as they say, in one uniform tenor of speaking, bringing nothing except their facility and equalness of language; or else they add something, like reliefs on a pedestal, and so they embellish their whole oration, with trifling ornaments of words and ideas. VII. Now, whoever have by themselves arrived at any power in each of these styles of oratory, have gained a great name among orators; but we must inquire whether they have sufficiently effected what we want. For we see that there have been some men who have been ornate and dignified speakers, being at the same time shrewd and subtle arguers. And I wish that we were able to find a model of such an orator among the Latins. It would be a fine thing not to be forced to have recourse to foreign instances, but to be content with those of our own country. But though in that discourse of mine which I have published in the Brutus, I have attributed much credit to the Latins,--partly to encourage others, and partly out of affection for my own countrymen,--I still recollect that I by far prefer Demosthenes to all other men, inasmuch as he adapted his energy to that eloquence which I myself feel to be such, and not to that which I have ever had any experience of in any actual instance. He was an orator than whom there has never existed one more dignified, nor more wise, nor more temperate. And therefore it is well that we should warn those men whose ignorant conversation is getting to have some notoriety and weight, who wish either to be called Attic speakers, or who really wish to speak in the Attic style, to fix their admiration on this man above all others, than whom I do not think Athens itself more Attic. For by so doing they may learn what Attic means, and may measure eloquence by his power and not by their own weakness; for at present every one praises just that which he thinks that he himself is able to imitate. But still I think it not foreign to my present subject to remind those who are endowed with but a weak judgment, what is the peculiar merit of the Attic writers.

VIII. The prudence of the hearers has always been the regulator of the eloquence of the orators. For all men who wish to be approved of, regard the inclination of those men who are their hearers, and form and adapt themselves entirely which of the Greek rhetoricians ever drew any of his rules from Thucydides? Oh, but he is praised universally. I admit that, but it is on the ground that he is a wise, conscientious, dignified relater of facts, not that he was pleading causes before tribunals, but that he was relating wars in a history. Therefore, he was never accounted an orator; nor, indeed, should we have ever heard of his name if he had not written a history, though he was a man of eminently high character and of noble birth. But no one ever imitates the dignity of his language or of his sentiments, but when they have used some disjointed and unconnected expressions, which they might have done without any teacher at all, then they think that they are akin to Thucydides. I have met men too who were anxious to resemble Xenophon, whose style is, indeed, sweeter than honey, but as unlike as possible to the noisy style of the forum.

X Let us then return to the subject of laying a foundation for the orator whom we desire to see, and of furnishing him with that eloquence which Antonius had never found in any one. We are, O Brutus, undertaking a great and arduous task, but I think nothing difficult to a man who is in love. But I am and always have been in love with your genius, and your pursuits, and your habits. Moreover, I am every day more and more inflamed not only with regret,--though I am worn away with that while I am wishing to enjoy again our meetings and our daily association, and your learned discourse,--but also with the admirable reputation of your incredible virtues, which, though different in their kind, are united by your prudence. For what is so different or remote from severity as courtesy? And yet who has ever been considered either more conscientious or more agreeable than you? And what is so difficult as, while deciding disputes between many people, to be beloved by all of them? Yet you attain this end, of dismissing in a contented and pacified frame of mind the very parties against whom you decide. Therefore, while doing nothing from motives of interest you still contrive that all that you do should be acceptable. And therefore, of all the countries on earth, Gaul[59] is now the only one which is not affected by the general conflagration, while you yourself enjoy your own virtues in peace, knowing that your conduct is appreciated in this bright Italy, and surrounded as you are by the flower and strength of the citizens.

And what an exploit is that, never, amid all your important occupations, to interrupt your study of philosophy! You are always either writing something yourself or inviting me to write something. Therefore, I began this work as soon as I had finished my Cato, which I should never have meddled with, being alarmed at the aspect of the times, so hostile to virtue, if I had not thought it wicked not to comply with your wishes, when you were exhorting me and awaking in me the recollection of that man who was so dear to me, and I call you to witness that I have only ventured to undertake this subject after many entreaties on your part, and many refusals on mine. For I wish that you should appear implicated in this fault, so that if I myself should appear unable to support the weight of such a subject, you may bear the blame of having imposed such a burden on me, and I only that of having undertaken it. And then the credit of having had such a commission given me by you, will make amends for the blame which the deficiency of my judgment will bring upon me.

Ideas discussed in this chapter

Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.

Open in the reader →