Institutio Oratoria, Book VIII
Chapter 5
5 V. When the ancients used the word sententia, they meant a feeling, or opinion. The word is frequently used in this sense by orators, and traces of this meaning are still found even in the speech of every day. For when we are going to take an oath we use the phrase ex animi nostri sententia (in accordance with what we hold is the solemn truth), and when we offer congratulations, we say that we do so ex sententia (with all our heart). The ancients, indeed, often expressed the same meaning by saying that they uttered their sensa; for they regarded senses as referring merely to the senses of the body. But modern usage applies sensus to concepts of the mind, while sentcntia is applied to striking reflexions such as are more especially introduced at the close of our periods, a practice rare in earlier days, but carried even to excess in our own. Accordingly, I think that I ought to say something of the various forms which such reflexions may tale and the manner in which they should be used. Although all the different forms are included under the same name, the oldest type of sententia, and that in which the term is most correctly applied, is the aphorism, called γνώμη by the Greeks. Both the Greek and the Latin names are derived from the fact that such utterances resemble the decrees or resolutions of public bodies. The term, however, is of wide application (indeed, such reflexions may be deserving of praise even when they have no reference to any special context), and is used in various ways. Sometimes it refers merely to things, as in the sentence: There is nothing that wins the affections of the people more than goodness of heart. Occasionally, again, they may have a personal reference, as in the following utterance of Domitius Afer: The prince who would know all, must needs ignore much. Some have called this form of reflexion a part of the enthymeme, others the major premise or conclusion of the epichireme, as it sometimes, though not invariably, is. More correct is the statement that at times it is simple, as in the example just quoted, while at other times a reason for the statement may be added, such as the following: For in every struggle, the stronger seems not to suffer wrong, even when this is actually the case, but to inflict it, simply in virtue of his superior power. Sometimes, again, it may be double, as in the statement that Complaisance wins us friends, truth enmity. Ter. Andr. I. i. 41.
There are some even who classify them under ten heads, though the principle on which they make this division is such that it would justify a still larger number: they class them as based on interrogation, comparison, denial, similarity, admiration, and the like, for they can be treated under every kind of figure. A striking type is that which is produced by opposition: Death is not bitter, but the approach to death. Author unknown. Others are cast in a form of a direct statement, such as The miser lacks That which he has no less than what he has not. Publil. Syr. Sent. 486. But they acquire greater force by a change in the figure employed, as in the following: Is it so bitter, then, to die? Aen. xii. 646. For this is more vigorous than the simple statement, Death is not bitter. A similar effect may be produced by transference of' the statement from the general to the particular. For example, although the direct statement would be, To hurt is easy, but to do good is hard. Ovid gives this reflexion increased force when lie makes Medea say, I had the power to save, and ask you then If I have power to ruin? Cicero again gives the general statement a personal turn when he says: Caesar, the splendour of your present fortune confers on you nothing greater than the power and nothing better than the will to save as many of your fellow-citizens as possible. For here he attributes to Caesar what was really attributable to the circumstances of his power. In this class of reflexion we must be careful, as always, not to employ them too frequently, nor at random, nor place them in the mouth of every kind of person, while we must make certain that they are not untrue, as is so often the case with those speakers who style them reflexions of universal application and recklessly employ whatever seems to support their case as though its truth were beyond question. Such reflexions are best suited to those speakers whose authority is such that their character itself will lend weight to their words. For who would tolerate a boy, or a youth, or even a man of low birth who presumed to speak with all the authority of a judge and to thrust his precepts down our throats? The term enthymeme may be applied to any concept of the mind, but in its strict sense means a reflexion drawn from contraries. Consequently, it has a supremacy among reflexions which we may compare to that of Homer among poets and Rome among cities. I have already said enough on this topic in dealing with arguments.
But the use of the enthymeme is not confined to proof, it may sometimes be employed for the purpose of ornament, as in the following instance: Caesar, shall the language of those whom it is your glory to have spared goad you to imitate their own cruelty? Cicero's motive in saying this is not that it introduces any fresh reason for clemency, but because he has already demonstrated by other arguments how unjust such conduct would be, while he adds it at the period's close as an epiphonema, not by way of proof, but as a crowning insult to his opponents. For an epiphonema is an exclamation attached to the close of a statement or a proof by way of climax. Here are two examples: Such toil it was to found the Roman race! Aen. i. 33. and The virtuous youth preferred to risk his life by slaying him to suffering such dishonour. There is also what our modern rhetoricians call the noema, a term which may be taken to mean every kind of conception, but is employed by them in the special sense of things which they wish to be understood, though they are not actually said, as in the declamation where the sister defends herself against the brother whom she had often bought out from the gladiatorial school, when he brought an action against her demanding the infliction of a similar mutilation because she had cut off his thumb while he slept: You deserved, she cries, to have all your fingers, meaning thereby, You deserved to be a gladiator all your days. There is also what is called a clausula. If this merely means a conclusion, it is a perfectly correct and sometimes a necessary device, as in the following case: You must, therefore, first confess your own offence before you accuse Ligarius of anything. But to-day something more is meant, for our rhetoricians want every passage, every sentence to strike the ear by an impressive close. In fact, they think it a disgrace, nay, almost a crime, to pause to breathe except at the end of a passage that is designed to call forth applause. The result is a number of tiny epigrams, affected, irrelevant and disjointed. For there are not enough striking reflexions in the world to provide a close to every period. The following forms of reflexion are even more modern. There is the type which depends on surprise for its effect, as, for example, when Vibius Crispus, in denouncing the man who wore a breastplate when strolling in the forum and alleged that he did so because he feared for his life, cried, Who gave you leave to be such a coward?
Another instance is the striking remark made by Africanus to Nero with reference to the death of Agrippina: Caesar, your provinces of Gaul entreat you to bear your good fortune with courage. Others are of an allusive type: for example, Domitius Afer, in his defence of Cloatilla, whom Claudius had pardoned when she was accused of having buried her husband, who had been one of the rebels, addressed her sons in his peroration with the words: Nonetheless, it is your duty, boys, to give your mother burial. Some, again, depend on the fact that they are transferred from one context to another Crispus, in his defence of Spatale, whose lover had made her his heir and then proceeded to die at the age of eighteen, remarked: What a marvellous fellow to gratify his passion thus! Another type of reflexion may be produced by the doubling of a phrase, as in the letter written by Seneca for Nero to be sent to the senate on the occasion of his mother's death, with a view to creating the impression that he had been in serious danger:— As yet I cannot believe or rejoice that I am safe. Better, however, is the type which relies for its effect on contrast of opposites, as I know from whom to fly, but whom to follow I know not; or, What of the fact that the poor wretch, though he could not speak, could not keep silence? But to produce the most striking effect this type should be given point by the introduction of a comparison, such as is made by Trachalus in his speech against Spatale, where he says: Is it your pleasure, then, ye laws, the faithful guardians of chastity, that wives should receive a title and harlots a quarter? In these instances, however, the reflexion may equally well be good or bad. On the other hand, there are some which will always be bad, such as those which turn on play upon words, as in the following case: Conscript fathers, for I must address you thus that you may remember the duty owed to fathers. Worse still, as being more unreal and far-fetched, is the remark made by the gladiator mentioned above in his prosecution of his sister: I have fought to the last finger. There is another similar type, which is perhaps the worst of all, where the play upon words is combined with a false comparison. When I was a young man I heard a distinguished pleader, after handing a mother some splinters of bone taken from the head of her son (which he did merely to provide an occasion for his epigram), cry:
Unhappiest of women, your son is not yet dead and yet you have gathered up his bones! Moreover, most of our orators delight in devices of the pettiest kind, which seriously considered are merely ludicrous, but at the moment of their production flatter their authors by a superficial semblance of wit. Take, for instance, the exclamation from the scholastic theme, where a man, after being ruined by the barrenness of his land, is shipwrecked and hangs himself: Let him whom neither earth nor sea receives, hang in mid air. A similar absurdity is to be found in the declamation, to which I have already referred, in which a father poisons his son who insists on tearing his flesh with his teeth: The man who eats such flesh, deserves such drink. Or again, take this passage from the theme of the luxurious man who is alleged to have pretended to starve himself to death: Tie a noose for yourself: you have good reason to be angry with your throat. 'rake poison: it is fit that a luxurious man should die of drink! Others are merely fatuous, such as the remark of the declaimer who urges the courtiers of Alexander to provide him with a tomb by burning down Babylon. I am burying Alexander. Shall any man watch such a burial from his housetop? As if this were the climax of indignities! Others fail from sheer extravagance. For example, I once heard a rhetorician who was declaiming about the Germans, say: I know not where they carry their heads, and again when belauding a hero, He beats back whole wars with the boss of his shield. However, I shall never come to an end if I try to describe every possible form of this kind of absurdity. I will therefore turn to discuss a point of more importance. Rhetoricians are divided in opinion on this subject: some devote practically all their efforts to the elaboration of reflexions, while others condemn their employment altogether. I cannot agree entirely with either view. If they are crowded too thick together, such reflexions merely stand in each other's way, just as in the case of crops and the fruits of trees lack of room to grow results in a stunted development. Again in pictures a definite outline is required to throw objects into relief, and consequently artists who include a number of objects in the same design separate them by intervals sufficient to prevent one casting a shadow on the other. Further, this form of display breaks up our speeches into a number of detached sentences; every reflexion is isolated, and consequently a fresh start is necessary after each.
This produces a discontinuous style, since our language is composed not of a system of limbs, but of a series of fragments: for your nicely rounded and polished phrases are incapable of cohesion. Further, the colour, though bright enough, has no unity, but consists of a number of variegated splashes. A purple stripe appropriately applied lends brilliance to a dress, but a dress decorated with a quantity of patches can never be becoming to anybody. Wherefore, although these ornaments may seem to stand out with a certain glitter of their own, they are rather to be compared to sparks flashing through the smoke than to the actual brilliance of flame: they are, in fact, invisible when the language is of uniform splendour, just as the stars are invisible in the light of day. And where eloquence seeks to secure elevation by frequent small efforts, it merely produces an uneven and broken surface which fails to win the admiration due to outstanding objects and lacks the charm that may be found in a smooth surface. To this must be added the fact that those who devote themselves solely to the production of reflexions cannot avoid giving utterance to many that are trivial, flat or foolish. For their mere number will so embarrass their author that selection will be impossible. Consequently you will often find that such persons will produce a division or an argument as if it were an epigram, the only qualification necessary being that it should come toward the close of the period and be impressively delivered. You killed your wife, though you were an adulterer yourself. I should loathe you even if you had only divorced her. Here we have a division. Do you wish me to prove that a love-philtre is a poison? The man would still be living, if he had not drunk it. This is an argument. There are, moreover, a number of speakers who not merely deliver many such epigrams, but utter everything as if it were an epigram. Against these persons, on the other hand, must be set those who shun and dread all ornament of this kind, approving nothing that is not plain, humble and effortless, with the result that by their reluctance to climb for fear of falling they succeed merely in maintaining a perpetual flatness. What sin is there in a good epigram? Does it not help our case, or move the judge, or commend the speaker to his audience? It may be urged, perhaps, that it is a form of ornament eschewed by the ancients. What do you mean by antiquity?
If you go back to the earliest periods you will find that Demosthenes frequently employed methods that were known to none before him. How can we give our approval to Cicero, if we think that no change should be made from the methods of Cato and the Gracchi? And yet before the Gracchi and Cato the style of oratory was simpler still. For my own part I regard these particular ornaments of oratory to be, as it were, the eyes of eloquence. On the other hand, I should not like to see the whole body full of eyes, for fear that it might cripple the functions of the other members, and, if I had no alternative, I should prefer the rudeness of ancient eloquence to the license of the moderns. But a middle course is open to us here no less than in the refinements of dress and mode of life, where there is a certain tasteful elegance that offends no one. Therefore let us as far as possible seek to increase the number of our virtues, although our first care must always be to keep ourselves free from vices, lest in seeking to make ourselves better than the ancients we succeed merely in making ourselves unlike them. I will now proceed to the next subject for discussion, which is, as I have said, that of tropes, or modes, as the most distinguished Roman rhetoricians call them. Rules for their use are given by the teachers of literature as well. But I postponed the discussion of the subject when I was dealing with literary education, because it seemed to me that the theme would have greater importance if handled in connexion with the ornaments of oratory, and that it ought to be reserved for treatment on a larger scale.
1 V. When the ancients used the word sententia, they meant a feeling, or opinion. The word is frequently used in this sense by orators, and traces of this meaning are still found even in the speech of every day. For when we are going to take an oath we use the phrase ex animi nostri sententia (in accordance with what we hold is the solemn truth), and when we offer congratulations, we say that we do so ex sententia (with all our heart). The ancients, indeed, often expressed the same meaning by saying that they uttered their sensa; for they regarded senses as referring merely to the senses of the body.
2 But modern usage applies sensus to concepts of the mind, while sentcntia is applied to striking reflexions such as are more especially introduced at the close of our periods, a practice rare in earlier days, but carried even to excess in our own. Accordingly, I think that I ought to say something of the various forms which such reflexions may tale and the manner in which they should be used.
3 Although all the different forms are included under the same name, the oldest type of sententia, and that in which the term is most correctly applied, is the aphorism, called γνώμη by the Greeks. Both the Greek and the Latin names are derived from the fact that such utterances resemble the decrees or resolutions of public bodies. The term, however, is of wide application (indeed, such reflexions may be deserving of praise even when they have no reference to any special context), and is used in various ways. Sometimes it refers merely to things, as in the sentence: There is nothing that wins the affections of the people more than goodness of heart. Occasionally, again, they may have a personal reference, as in the following utterance of Domitius Afer: The prince who would know all, must needs ignore much.
4 Some have called this form of reflexion a part of the enthymeme, others the major premise or conclusion of the epichireme, as it sometimes, though not invariably, is. More correct is the statement that at times it is simple, as in the example just quoted, while at other times a reason for the statement may be added, such as the following: For in every struggle, the stronger seems not to suffer wrong, even when this is actually the case, but to inflict it, simply in virtue of his superior power. Sometimes, again, it may be double, as in the statement that Complaisance wins us friends, truth enmity. Ter. Andr. I. i. 41. There are some even who classify them under ten heads, though the principle on which they make this division is such that it would justify a still larger number: they class them as based on interrogation, comparison, denial, similarity, admiration, and the like, for they can be treated under every kind of figure. A striking type is that which is produced by opposition: Death is not bitter, but the approach to death. Author unknown. Others are cast in a form of a direct statement,
6 such as The miser lacks That which he has no less than what he has not. Publil. Syr. Sent. 486. But they acquire greater force by a change in the figure employed, as in the following: Is it so bitter, then, to die? Aen. xii. 646. For this is more vigorous than the simple statement, Death is not bitter. A similar effect may be produced by transference of' the statement from the general to the particular. For example, although the direct statement would be, To hurt is easy, but to do good is hard. Ovid gives this reflexion increased force when lie makes Medea say, I had the power to save, and ask you then If I have power to ruin?
7 Cicero again gives the general statement a personal turn when he says: Caesar, the splendour of your present fortune confers on you nothing greater than the power and nothing better than the will to save as many of your fellow-citizens as possible. For here he attributes to Caesar what was really attributable to the circumstances of his power. In this class of reflexion we must be careful, as always, not to employ them too frequently, nor at random, nor place them in the mouth of every kind of person, while we must make certain that they are not untrue, as is so often the case with those speakers who style them reflexions of universal application and recklessly employ whatever seems to support their case as though its truth were beyond question.
8 Such reflexions are best suited to those speakers whose authority is such that their character itself will lend weight to their words. For who would tolerate a boy, or a youth, or even a man of low birth who presumed to speak with all the authority of a judge and to thrust his precepts down our throats?
9 The term enthymeme may be applied to any concept of the mind, but in its strict sense means a reflexion drawn from contraries. Consequently, it has a supremacy among reflexions which we may compare to that of Homer among poets and Rome among cities.
10 I have already said enough on this topic in dealing with arguments. But the use of the enthymeme is not confined to proof, it may sometimes be employed for the purpose of ornament, as in the following instance: Caesar, shall the language of those whom it is your glory to have spared goad you to imitate their own cruelty? Cicero's motive in saying this is not that it introduces any fresh reason for clemency, but because he has already demonstrated by other arguments how unjust such conduct would be,
11 while he adds it at the period's close as an epiphonema, not by way of proof, but as a crowning insult to his opponents. For an epiphonema is an exclamation attached to the close of a statement or a proof by way of climax. Here are two examples: Such toil it was to found the Roman race! Aen. i. 33. and The virtuous youth preferred to risk his life by slaying him to suffering such dishonour.
12 There is also what our modern rhetoricians call the noema, a term which may be taken to mean every kind of conception, but is employed by them in the special sense of things which they wish to be understood, though they are not actually said, as in the declamation where the sister defends herself against the brother whom she had often bought out from the gladiatorial school, when he brought an action against her demanding the infliction of a similar mutilation because she had cut off his thumb while he slept: You deserved, she cries, to have all your fingers, meaning thereby, You deserved to be a gladiator all your days.
13 There is also what is called a clausula. If this merely means a conclusion, it is a perfectly correct and sometimes a necessary device, as in the following case: You must, therefore, first confess your own offence before you accuse Ligarius of anything. But to-day something more is meant, for our rhetoricians want every passage, every sentence to strike the ear by an impressive close.
14 In fact, they think it a disgrace, nay, almost a crime, to pause to breathe except at the end of a passage that is designed to call forth applause. The result is a number of tiny epigrams, affected, irrelevant and disjointed. For there are not enough striking reflexions in the world to provide a close to every period.
15 The following forms of reflexion are even more modern. There is the type which depends on surprise for its effect, as, for example, when Vibius Crispus, in denouncing the man who wore a breastplate when strolling in the forum and alleged that he did so because he feared for his life, cried, Who gave you leave to be such a coward? Another instance is the striking remark made by Africanus to Nero with reference to the death of Agrippina: Caesar, your provinces of Gaul entreat you to bear your good fortune with courage.
16 Others are of an allusive type: for example, Domitius Afer, in his defence of Cloatilla, whom Claudius had pardoned when she was accused of having buried her husband, who had been one of the rebels, addressed her sons in his peroration with the words: Nonetheless, it is your duty, boys, to give your mother burial. Some, again,
17 depend on the fact that they are transferred from one context to another Crispus, in his defence of Spatale, whose lover had made her his heir and then proceeded to die at the age of eighteen, remarked: What a marvellous fellow to gratify his passion thus!
18 Another type of reflexion may be produced by the doubling of a phrase, as in the letter written by Seneca for Nero to be sent to the senate on the occasion of his mother's death, with a view to creating the impression that he had been in serious danger:— As yet I cannot believe or rejoice that I am safe. Better, however, is the type which relies for its effect on contrast of opposites, as I know from whom to fly, but whom to follow I know not; or, What of the fact that the poor wretch, though he could not speak, could not keep silence? But to produce the most striking effect this type should be given point by the introduction of a comparison, such as is made by Trachalus in his speech against Spatale, where he says: Is it your pleasure, then, ye laws, the faithful guardians of chastity, that wives should receive a title and harlots a quarter? In these instances, however, the reflexion may equally well be good or bad.
20 On the other hand, there are some which will always be bad, such as those which turn on play upon words, as in the following case: Conscript fathers, for I must address you thus that you may remember the duty owed to fathers. Worse still, as being more unreal and far-fetched, is the remark made by the gladiator mentioned above in his prosecution of his sister: I have fought to the last finger.
21 There is another similar type, which is perhaps the worst of all, where the play upon words is combined with a false comparison. When I was a young man I heard a distinguished pleader, after handing a mother some splinters of bone taken from the head of her son (which he did merely to provide an occasion for his epigram), cry: Unhappiest of women, your son is not yet dead and yet you have gathered up his bones!
22 Moreover, most of our orators delight in devices of the pettiest kind, which seriously considered are merely ludicrous, but at the moment of their production flatter their authors by a superficial semblance of wit. Take, for instance, the exclamation from the scholastic theme, where a man, after being ruined by the barrenness of his land, is shipwrecked and hangs himself: Let him whom neither earth nor sea receives, hang in mid air.
23 A similar absurdity is to be found in the declamation, to which I have already referred, in which a father poisons his son who insists on tearing his flesh with his teeth: The man who eats such flesh, deserves such drink. Or again, take this passage from the theme of the luxurious man who is alleged to have pretended to starve himself to death: Tie a noose for yourself: you have good reason to be angry with your throat. 'rake poison: it is fit that a luxurious man should die of drink!
24 Others are merely fatuous, such as the remark of the declaimer who urges the courtiers of Alexander to provide him with a tomb by burning down Babylon. I am burying Alexander. Shall any man watch such a burial from his housetop? As if this were the climax of indignities! Others fail from sheer extravagance. For example, I once heard a rhetorician who was declaiming about the Germans, say: I know not where they carry their heads, and again when belauding a hero, He beats back whole wars with the boss of his shield.
25 However, I shall never come to an end if I try to describe every possible form of this kind of absurdity. I will therefore turn to discuss a point of more importance. Rhetoricians are divided in opinion on this subject: some devote practically all their efforts to the elaboration of reflexions, while others condemn their employment altogether. I cannot agree entirely with either view.
26 If they are crowded too thick together, such reflexions merely stand in each other's way, just as in the case of crops and the fruits of trees lack of room to grow results in a stunted development. Again in pictures a definite outline is required to throw objects into relief, and consequently artists who include a number of objects in the same design separate them by intervals sufficient to prevent one casting a shadow on the other. Further,
27 this form of display breaks up our speeches into a number of detached sentences; every reflexion is isolated, and consequently a fresh start is necessary after each. This produces a discontinuous style, since our language is composed not of a system of limbs, but of a series of fragments: for your nicely rounded and polished phrases are incapable of cohesion. Further, the colour,
28 though bright enough, has no unity, but consists of a number of variegated splashes. A purple stripe appropriately applied lends brilliance to a dress, but a dress decorated with a quantity of patches can never be becoming to anybody.
29 Wherefore, although these ornaments may seem to stand out with a certain glitter of their own, they are rather to be compared to sparks flashing through the smoke than to the actual brilliance of flame: they are, in fact, invisible when the language is of uniform splendour, just as the stars are invisible in the light of day. And where eloquence seeks to secure elevation by frequent small efforts, it merely produces an uneven and broken surface which fails to win the admiration due to outstanding objects and lacks the charm that may be found in a smooth surface.
30 To this must be added the fact that those who devote themselves solely to the production of reflexions cannot avoid giving utterance to many that are trivial, flat or foolish. For their mere number will so embarrass their author that selection will be impossible. Consequently you will often find that such persons will produce a division or an argument as if it were an epigram, the only qualification necessary being that it should come toward the close of the period and be impressively delivered.
31 You killed your wife, though you were an adulterer yourself. I should loathe you even if you had only divorced her. Here we have a division. Do you wish me to prove that a love-philtre is a poison? The man would still be living, if he had not drunk it. This is an argument. There are, moreover, a number of speakers who not merely deliver many such epigrams, but utter everything as if it were an epigram.
32 Against these persons, on the other hand, must be set those who shun and dread all ornament of this kind, approving nothing that is not plain, humble and effortless, with the result that by their reluctance to climb for fear of falling they succeed merely in maintaining a perpetual flatness. What sin is there in a good epigram? Does it not help our case, or move the judge, or commend the speaker to his audience? It may be urged, perhaps,
33 that it is a form of ornament eschewed by the ancients. What do you mean by antiquity? If you go back to the earliest periods you will find that Demosthenes frequently employed methods that were known to none before him. How can we give our approval to Cicero, if we think that no change should be made from the methods of Cato and the Gracchi? And yet before the Gracchi and Cato the style of oratory was simpler still.
34 For my own part I regard these particular ornaments of oratory to be, as it were, the eyes of eloquence. On the other hand, I should not like to see the whole body full of eyes, for fear that it might cripple the functions of the other members, and, if I had no alternative, I should prefer the rudeness of ancient eloquence to the license of the moderns. But a middle course is open to us here no less than in the refinements of dress and mode of life, where there is a certain tasteful elegance that offends no one. Therefore let us as far as possible seek to increase the number of our virtues, although our first care must always be to keep ourselves free from vices, lest in seeking to make ourselves better than the ancients we succeed merely in making ourselves unlike them.
35 I will now proceed to the next subject for discussion, which is, as I have said, that of tropes, or modes, as the most distinguished Roman rhetoricians call them. Rules for their use are given by the teachers of literature as well. But I postponed the discussion of the subject when I was dealing with literary education, because it seemed to me that the theme would have greater importance if handled in connexion with the ornaments of oratory, and that it ought to be reserved for treatment on a larger scale.