1. Cicero, De Oratore, 2.194 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 2.194. Fieri nullo modo potuit. Saepe enim audivi poetam bonum neminem—id quod a Democrito et Platone in scriptis relictum esse dicunt—sine inflammatione animorum exsistere posse et sine quodam adflatu quasi furoris. Qua re nolite existimare me ipsum, qui non heroum veteres casus fictosque luctus velim imitari atque adumbrare dicendo neque actor sim alienae personae, sed auctor meae, cum mihi M'. Aquilius in civitate retinendus esset, quae in illa causa peroranda fecerim, sine magno dolore fecisse: | |
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2. Cicero, Pro Murena, 23-24, 22 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 22. revertamur, qui potest dubitari potest dubitari Beroaldus : potest dubitare codd : potes dubitare Zumpt quin ad consulatum adipiscendum multo plus adferat dignitatis rei militaris quam iuris civilis gloria? vigilas tu de nocte ut tuis consultoribus respondeas, ille ut eo quo ille vero ut quo B contendit Quintil. ix. 2. 100 ( idem intendit ix. 3. 32) intendit mature cum exercitu perveniat; te gallorum, illum bucinarum cantus exsuscitat; tu actionem instituis, ille aciem instruit; tu caves ne tui consultores consultores tui Quintil. ix. 3. 32, ille ne urbes aut castra capiantur; ille tenet et scit ut hostium copiae, tu ut aquae pluviae arceantur; ille exercitatus est in exercitatur in Quintil. propagandis finibus, tuque in tuque in (quin S ) mei : tu in w, ed. R cum Quintil. regendis. ac nimirum — dicendum est enim quod sentio — rei militaris virtus praestat ceteris omnibus. haec nomen populo Romano, haec huic urbi aeternam gloriam peperit, haec orbem terrarum parere huic imperio coegit; omnes urbanae res, omnia haec nostra praeclara studia et haec forensis laus et industria latet latet scripsi : latent codd. in tutela ac praesidio bellicae virtutis. simul atque increpuit suspicio tumultus, artes ilico nostrae conticiscunt conticiscunt Spx : conticescunt cett . . | |
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3. Propertius, Elegies, 2.1.44 (1st cent. BCE - missingth cent. CE)
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4. New Testament, Apocalypse, 18.21-18.24 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
| 18.21. A mighty angel took up a stone like a great millstone and cast it into the sea, saying, "Thus with violence will Babylon, the great city, be thrown down, and will be found no more at all. 18.22. The voice of harpers and minstrels and flute players and trumpeters will be heard no more at all in you. No craftsman, of whatever craft, will be found any more at all in you. The sound of a mill will be heard no more at all in you. 18.23. The light of a lamp will shine no more at all in you. The voice of the bridegroom and of the bride will be heard no more at all in you; for your merchants were the princes of the earth; for with your sorcery all the nations were deceived. 18.24. In her was found the blood of prophets and of saints, and of all who have been slain on the earth. |
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5. Quintilian, Institutes of Oratory, 4.5.12, 6.1.9-6.1.10, 6.1.12-6.1.34, 6.1.44, 6.1.50, 6.2.1 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
| 4.5.12. On the other hand you will find no one so unreasonable or so foolish as to deny that the partition in the pro Murena is admirable. "I understand, gentlemen, that the accusation falls into three parts, the first aspersing my client's character, the second dealing with his candidature for the magistracy, and the third with charges of bribery." These words make the case as clear as possible, and no one division renders any other superfluous. 6.1.9. Both parties as a general rule may likewise employ the appeal to the emotions, but they will appeal to different emotions and the defender will employ such appeals with greater frequency and fulness. For the accuser has to rouse the judge, while the defender has to soften him. Still even the accuser will sometimes make his audience weep by the pity excited for the man whose wrongs he seeks to avenge, while the defendant will at times develop no small vehemence when he complains of the injustice of the calumny or conspiracy of which he is the victim. It will therefore be best to treat this duties separately: as I have already said, they are much the same in the peroration as in the exordium, but are freer and wider in scope in the former. 6.1.10. For our attempts to sway the judges are made more sparingly at the commencement of the speech, when it is enough that such an attempt should gain admittance and we have the whole speech before us. On the other hand in the peroration we have to consider what the feelings of the judge will be when he retires to consider his verdict, for we shall have no further opportunity to say anything and cannot any longer reserve arguments to be produced later. 6.1.12. But it will be safer to discuss these considerations in detail. The points likely to commend the accuser to the judge have already been stated in my remarks on the exordium. There are however certain things which require fuller treatment in the peroration than in the exordium, where it is sufficient merely to outline them. This fuller treatment is specially required if the accused be a man of violent, unpopular or dangerous character or if the condemnation of the accused is likely to cover the judges with glory or his acquittal with disgrace. 6.1.13. Calvus for example in his speech against Vatinius makes an admirable remark: "You know, gentlemen, that bribery has been committed and everybody knows that you know it." Cicero again in the Verrines says that the ill-name acquired by the courts may be effaced by the condemnation of Verres, a statement that comes under the head of the conciliatory methods mentioned above. The appeal to fear also, if it is necessary to employ it to produce a like effect, occupies a more prominent place in the peroration than in the exordium, but I have expressed my views on this subject in an earlier book. 6.1.14. The peroration also provides freer opportunities for exciting the passions of jealousy, hatred or anger. As regards the circumstances likely to excite such feelings in the judge, jealousy will be produced by the influence of the accused, hatred by the disgraceful nature of his conduct, and anger by his disrespectful attitude to the court, if, for instance, he be contumacious, arrogant or studiously indifferent: such anger may be aroused not merely by specific acts or words, but by his looks, bearing and manner. In this connexion the remark made by the accuser of Cossutianus Capito in my young days was regarded with great approval: the words used were Greek, but may be translated thus:â "You blush to fear even Caesar. 6.1.15. The best way however for the accuser to excite the feelings of the judge is to make the charge which he brings against the accused seem as atrocious or, if feasible, as deplorable as possible. Its atrocity may be enhanced by considerations of the nature of the act, the position of its author or the victim, the purpose, time, place and manner of the act: all of which may be treated with infinite variety. 6.1.16. Suppose that we are complaining that our client has been beaten. We must first speak of the act itself; we shall then proceed to point out that the victim was an old man, a child, a magistrate, an honest man or a benefactor to the state; we shall also point out that the assailant was a worthless and contemptible fellow, or (to take the opposite case) was in a position of excessive power or was the last man who should have given the blow, or again that the occasion was a solemn festival, or that the act was committed at a time when such crimes were punished with special severity by the courts or when public order was at a dangerously low ebb. Again the hatred excited by the act will be enhanced if it was committed in the theatre, in a temple, or at a public assembly 6.1.17. and if the blow was given not in mistake or in a moment of passion or, if it was the result of passion which was quite unjustifiable, being due to the fact that the victim had gone to the assistance of his father or had made some reply or was a candidate for the same office as his assailant; or finally we may hint that he wished to inflict more serious injury than he succeeded in inflicting. But it is the manner of the act that contributes most to the impression of its atrocity, if, for example, the blow was violent or insulting: thus Demosthenes seeks to excite hatred against Midias by emphasising the position of the blow, the attitude of the assailant and the expression of his face. 6.1.18. It is in this connexion that we shall have to consider whether a man was killed by sword or fire or poison, by one wound or several, and whether he was slain on the spot or tortured by being kept in suspense. The accuser will also frequently attempt to excite pity by complaining of the fate of the man whom he is seeking to avenge or of the desolation which has fallen upon his children or parents. 6.1.19. The judges may also be moved by drawing a picture of the future, of the fate which awaits those who have complained of violence and wrong, if they fail to secure justice. They must go into exile, give up their property or endure to the end whatever their enemy may choose to inflict upon them. 6.1.20. But it will more frequently be the duty of the accuser to divert the judge from all the temptations to pity which the accused will place before him, and to incite him to give a strong and dispassionate verdict. It will also be his duty in this connexion to forestall the arguments and actions to which his opponent seems likely to have recourse. For it makes the judge more cautious in observing the sanctity of his oath and destroys the influence of those who are going to reply to us when the arguments used by the defence have already been dealt with by the prosecution, since they lose their novelty. An instance of this will be found in the speech of Messala against Aufidia, where he warns Servius Sulpicius not to talk about the peril which threatens the signatories to the document and the defendant herself. Again Aeschines foretells the line of defence which Demosthenes will pursue. There are also occasions when the judges should be told what answer they should make to requests on behalf of the accused, a proceeding which is a form of recapitulation. 6.1.21. If we turn to the defendant, we must note that his worth, his manly pursuits, the scars from wounds received in battle, his rank and the services rendered by his ancestors, will all commend him to the goodwill of the judges. Cicero, as I have arrival pointed out, and Asinius both make use of this form of appeal: indeed they may almost be regarded as rivals in this respect, since Cicero employed it when defending the elder Scaurus, Asinius when defending the son. 6.1.22. Again, the cause which has brought the accused into peril may serve to produce the same effect, if, for example, it appears that he has incurred enmity on account of some honourable action: above all his goodness, humanity or pity may be emphasised with this end in view. For it adds to the apparent justice of his claim, if all that he asks of the judge is that he should grant to him what he himself has granted to others. We may also in this connexion lay stress on the interests of the state, the glory which will accrue to the judges, the importance of the precedent which their verdict will set and the place it will hold in the memory of after generations. 6.1.23. But the appeal which will carry most weight is its appeal to pity, which not merely forces the judge to change his views, but even to betray his emotions by tears. Such appeals to pity will be based either on the previous or present sufferings of the accused, or on those which await him if condemned. And the force of our appeal will be doubled if we contrast the fortune which he now enjoys with that to which he will be reduced, if he fail. 6.1.24. In this connexion great play may be made by reference to the age and sex of the accused, or to his nearest and dearest, that is, his children, parents and kindred, all of which topics are treated in different ways. Sometimes the advocate himself may even assume the role of close intimacy with his client, as Cicero does in the pro Milone, where he cries: "Alas, unhappy that I am! Alas, my unfortunate friend! You succeeded by the agency of those who are now your judges in recalling me to my native land, and cannot I through the same agency retain you in yours?" Such a method is especially serviceable when, as was the case with Milo, entreaty is not in keeping with the character of the accused. 6.1.25. Who would have endured to hear Milo pleading for his life, when he admitted that he had killed a man of noble birth because it was his duty to do so? Consequently Cicero sought to win the judges' goodwill for Milo by emphasising the staunchness of his character, and himself assumed the role of suppliant. Impersonation may also be employed with profit in such passages, and by impersonations I mean fictitious speeches supposed to be uttered, such as an advocate puts into the mouth of his client. The bare facts are no doubt moving in themselves; but when we pretend that the persons concerned themselves are speaking, the personal note adds to the emotional effect. 6.1.26. For then the judge seems no longer to be listening to a voice bewailing another's ills, but to hear the voice and feelings of the unhappy victims, men whose appearance alone would call forth his tears even though they uttered never a word. And as their plea would awaken yet greater pity if they urged it with their own lips, so it is rendered to some extent all the more effective when it is, as it were, put into their mouth by their advocate: we may draw a parallel from the stage, where the actor's voice and delivery produce greater emotional effect when he is speaking in an assumed role than when he speaks in his own character. 6.1.27. Consequently Cicero, to quote him once again, although he will not put entreaties into Milo's mouth, and prefers to commend him by his staunchness of character, still lends him words in the form of such complaint as may become a brave man. "Alas!" he says, "my labours have been in vain! Alas for my blighted hopes! Alas for my baffled purpose!" Appeals to pity should, however, always be brief, and there is good reason for the saying that nothing dries so quickly as tears. 6.1.28. Time assuages even genuine grief, and it is therefore inevitable that the semblance of grief portrayed in our speech should vanish yet more rapidly. And if we spend too much time over such portrayal our hearer grows weary of his tears, and returns once more to the rational attitude from which he has been distracted by the impulse of the moment. 6.1.29. We must not, therefore, allow the effect which we have produced to fall flat, and must consequently abandon our appeal to the emotion just when that emotion is at its height, nor must we expect anyone to weep for long over another's illness. For this reason our eloquence ought to be pitched higher in this portion of our speech than in any other, since, wherever it fails to add something to what has preceded, it seems even to diminish its previous effect, while a diminuendo is merely a step towards the rapid disappearance of the emotion. 6.1.30. Actions as well as words may be employed to move the court to tears. Hence the custom of bringing accused persons into court wearing squalid and unkempt attire, and of introducing their children and parents, and it is with this in view that we see blood-stained swords, fragments of bone taken from the wound, and garments spotted with blood, displayed by the accusers, wounds stripped of their dressings, and scourged bodies bared to view. 6.1.31. The impression produced by such exhibitions is generally enormous, since they seem to bring the spectators face to face with the cruel facts. For example, the sight of the bloodstains on the purple-bordered toga of Gaius Caesar, which was carried at the head of his funeral procession, aroused the Roman people to fury. They knew he had been killed; they had even seen his body stretched upon the bier: but his garment, still wet with his blood, brought such a vivid image of the crime before their minds, that Caesar seemed not to have been murdered, but to be being murdered before their very eyes. 6.1.32. Still I would not for this reason go so far as to approve a practice of which I have read, and which indeed I have occasionally witnessed, of bringing into court a picture of the crime painted on wood or canvas, that the judge might be stirred to fury by the horror of the sight. For the pleader who prefers a voiceless picture to speak for him in place of his own eloquence must be singularly incompetent. 6.1.33. On the other hand, I know that the wearing of mourning and the presentation of an unkempt appearance, and the introduction of relatives similarly arrayed, has proved of value, and that entreaties have been of great service to save the accused from condemnation. The practice therefore of appealing to the judges by all that is near and dear to them will be of great service to the accused, especially if he, too, has children, a wife and parents. 6.1.34. Invocation of the gods, again, usually gives the impression that the speaker is conscious of the justice of his cause, while it may produce a good effect if the accused throws himself on the ground and embraces the knees of the judges, unless his character, his past life and station prohibit a resort to this device: for there are some acts which require to be defended with no less boldness than was required for their commission. But we must take care not to carry matters with too high a hand, for fear of creating a bad impression by an appearance of over-confidence. 6.1.44. There is one point which it is specially important to remember, that we should never attempt to move our audience to tears without drawing on all the resources of our eloquence. For while this form of emotional appeal is the most effective of all, when successful, its failure results in anti-climax, and if the pleader is a feeble speaker he would have been wiser to leave the pathos of the situation to the imagination of the judges. 6.1.50. There are also milder kinds of peroration in which, if our opponent is of such a character that he deserves to be treated with respect, we strive to ingratiate ourselves with him or give him some friendly warning or urge him to regard us as his friends. This method was admirably employed by Passienus when he pleaded in a suit brought by his wife Domitia against her brother Ahenobarbus for the recovery of a sum of money: he began by making a number of remarks about the relationship of the two parties and then, referring to their wealth, which was in both cases enormous, added, "There is nothing either of you need less than the subject of this dispute. 6.2.1. The peroration is the most important part of forensic pleading, and in the main consists of appeals to the emotions, concerning which I have consequently been forced to say something. But I have not yet been able to give the topic specific consideration as a whole, nor should I have been justified in doing so. We have still, therefore, to discuss a task which forms the most powerful means of obtaining what we desire, and is also more difficult than any of those which we have previously considered, namely that of stirring the emotions of the judges, and of moulding and transforming them to the attitude which we desire. |
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6. Tacitus, Dialogus De Oratoribus, 39, 41, 36 (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
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7. Hermogenes, Rhetorical Exercises, 7 (2nd cent. CE - 3rd cent. CE)
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8. Pliny The Younger, Letters, 5.8, 7.9 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 5.8. To Titinius Capito. You urge me to write history, nor are you the first to do so. Many others have often given me the same advice, and I am quite willing to follow it, not because I feel confident that I should succeed in so doing - for it would be presumption to think so until one had tried - but because it seems to me a very proper thing not to let people be forgotten whose fame ought never to die, and to perpetuate the glories of others together with one's own. Personally, I confess that there is nothing on which I have set my heart so much as to win a lasting reputation, and the ambition is a worthy one for any man, especially for one who is not conscious of having committed any wrong and has no cause to fear being remembered by posterity. Hence it is that both day and night I scheme to find a way "to raise myself above the ordinary dull level" Again, there is a precedent in my own family which impels me towards writing history. My uncle, who was also my father by adoption, was a historian of the most scrupulous type, and I find all wise men agree that one can do nothing better than follow in the footsteps of one's ancestors, provided that they have gone in the right path themselves. Why, then, do I hesitate? For this reason, that I have delivered a number of pleadings of serious importance, and it is my intention to revise them carefully - though my hopes of fame from them are only slight - lest, in spite of all the trouble they have given me, they should perish with me, just for want of receiving the last polishing and additional touches. For if you have a view to what posterity will say, all that is not absolutely finished must be classed as incomplete matter. You will say I began to plead in the forum in my nineteenth year, and it is only just now that I begin to see darkly what an orator ought to be. What would happen if I were to take on a new task in addition to this one? Oratory and history have many things in common, but they also differ greatly in the points that seem common to both. There is narrative in both, but of a different type; the humblest, meanest and most common-place subjects suit the one; the other requires research, splendour, and dignity. In the one you may describe the bones, muscles, and nerves of the body, in the other brawny parts and flowing manes. In oratory one wants force, invective, sustained attack; in history the charm is obtained by copiousness and agreeableness, even by sweetness of style. Lastly, the words used, the forms of speech, and the construction of the sentences are different. For, as Thucydides remarks, it makes all the difference whether the composition is to be a possession for all time or a declamation for the moment; † oratory has to do with the latter, history with the former. Hence it is that I do not feel tempted to hopelessly jumble together two dissimilar styles which differ from one another just because of their great importance, and I am afraid I should become bewildered by such a terrible medley and write in the one style just where I ought to be employing the other. For the meantime, therefore, to use the language of the courts, I ask your gracious permission to go on with my pleading. However, do you be good enough even now to consider the period which it would be best for me to tackle. Shall it be a period of ancient history which others have dealt with before me? If so, the materials are all ready to hand, but the putting them together would be a heavy task. On the other hand, if I choose a modern period which has not been dealt with, I shall get but small thanks and am bound to give serious offence. For, besides the fact that the general standard of morality is so lax that there is much more to censure than to praise, you are sure to be called niggardly if you praise and too censorious if you censure, though you may have been lavish of appreciation and scrupulously guarded in reproach. However, these considerations do not stay me, for I have the courage of my convictions. I only beg of you to prepare the way for me in the direction you urge me to take, and choose a subject for me, so that, when I am at length ready to take pen in hand, no other overpowering reason may crop up to make me hesitate and delay my purpose. Farewell. 7.9. To Fuscus. You ask me how I think you ought to arrange your studies in the retirement you have long been enjoying. I think the most useful plan - and many others give the same advice - is to translate from Greek into Latin, or from Latin into Greek. By practising this you acquire fitness and beauty of expression, a good stock of metaphors, and the power of saying what you mean, whilst, by imitating the best models, you fall into the way of finding thoughts similar to theirs. Those points again which may have slipped your memory as you read are retained there as you translate, and you gain thereby in intelligence and judgment. When you have read an author sufficiently to master his subject and treatment, it will do you no harm to try and rival him, as it were, and write your version out, and then compare it with the book, carefully considering where the original is better expressed than your copy, and vice versa. You may justly congratulate yourself if in a few places yours is the superior, and you may be heartily ashamed of yourself if his beats yours at every point. Occasionally, you may with profit select some very well-known passages and try to improve even on them. This may be a daring contest for you to enter, but it will not be presumptuous on your part, as you will do it in secret, though it is to be remembered that many have emerged from such contests with great credit to themselves, and have shown themselves superior - owing to their not despairing of success - to those whom they thought it would have been sufficient honour to themselves to follow. You will also be able to handle the whole theme again after it has passed out of your mind, to retain some passages, to reject even more, to interpolate and re-write others. That is a laborious task, I know, and very tedious, but the very fact of its being difficult makes it remunerative - in that you feel your enthusiasm kindling afresh, and return to the charge anew after your energies had failed altogether or become languid. Then finally you graft new limbs, as it were, on to the finished trunk and without disturbing the original formation. I know that at the present time your principal study is that of oratory, but I am far from advising you to be for ever cultivating that controversial and, I might say, bellicose branch of letters. For just as our fields gather fresh strength from a change and variety in the crops we sow, so our minds are refreshed by change and variety of study. Occasionally I should like you to take some passage of history, and I would have you to pay considerable attention to letter-writing ; for it often happens that a speaker finds it imperative to be able to explain certain points he may be making, not only with a historical, but also with a poetical touch, and by writing letters one acquires a terse and clear style. It is advisable too to dabble in poetry, not by composing long continuous poems - for they can never be finished except one has abundant leisure - but short epigrammatic verse, which gives you an air of distinction, no matter how serious and responsible may be your profession. Verses like these are spoken of as mere interludes, yet they sometimes win a man as much reputation as his serious occupations. And therefore - for why should I not break out into poetry as I am urging you to write verses? - "As wax is admired, if it be soft and yielding to the touch of deft fingers and in obedience thereto becomes a work of art, stamped either with the form of Mars or chaste Minerva, or representing either Venus or Venus's son ; as hallowed streams do more than stay the path of lire, and often refresh the flowers and meadows green - so the intellect of man should be moulded and led through the plastic arts and be trained to become mobile." Hence it is that the noblest orators - and the noblest men too - used to exercise or amuse themselves in this way, or I should rather say amused and exercised themselves, for it is remarkable how these trifles sharpen a man's wits and at the same time give relaxation to the brain. For they range over love, hatred, anger, pity, mirth - every feeling, in a word, that meets us in everyday life, in the forum, or in the courts. They serve the same useful purpose as other verses, for as soon as we are freed from the exigencies of metre, we take pleasure in fluent prose and our pens run on with greater zest when we have tried both and comparison tells us which is the easier. I have perhaps gone into greater detail than you asked me to, but there is still one point I have omitted, for I have not told you what I think you ought to read, though in one sense I did when I told you what you ought to write. You must bear in mind to choose carefully authors of all styles, for there is an old proverb that a man should read much but not read a multitude of books. Who those authors are is too well known and approved to need further explanation, and, besides, I have let this letter run to such unconscionable length that, while advising you how you ought to study, I have robbed you of time to study. However, pick up your writing-pad again, and either start on one of the subjects I have suggested or carry through the work on which you have already begun. Farewell. |
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9. Pliny The Younger, Letters, 5.8, 7.9 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 5.8. To Titinius Capito. You urge me to write history, nor are you the first to do so. Many others have often given me the same advice, and I am quite willing to follow it, not because I feel confident that I should succeed in so doing - for it would be presumption to think so until one had tried - but because it seems to me a very proper thing not to let people be forgotten whose fame ought never to die, and to perpetuate the glories of others together with one's own. Personally, I confess that there is nothing on which I have set my heart so much as to win a lasting reputation, and the ambition is a worthy one for any man, especially for one who is not conscious of having committed any wrong and has no cause to fear being remembered by posterity. Hence it is that both day and night I scheme to find a way "to raise myself above the ordinary dull level" Again, there is a precedent in my own family which impels me towards writing history. My uncle, who was also my father by adoption, was a historian of the most scrupulous type, and I find all wise men agree that one can do nothing better than follow in the footsteps of one's ancestors, provided that they have gone in the right path themselves. Why, then, do I hesitate? For this reason, that I have delivered a number of pleadings of serious importance, and it is my intention to revise them carefully - though my hopes of fame from them are only slight - lest, in spite of all the trouble they have given me, they should perish with me, just for want of receiving the last polishing and additional touches. For if you have a view to what posterity will say, all that is not absolutely finished must be classed as incomplete matter. You will say I began to plead in the forum in my nineteenth year, and it is only just now that I begin to see darkly what an orator ought to be. What would happen if I were to take on a new task in addition to this one? Oratory and history have many things in common, but they also differ greatly in the points that seem common to both. There is narrative in both, but of a different type; the humblest, meanest and most common-place subjects suit the one; the other requires research, splendour, and dignity. In the one you may describe the bones, muscles, and nerves of the body, in the other brawny parts and flowing manes. In oratory one wants force, invective, sustained attack; in history the charm is obtained by copiousness and agreeableness, even by sweetness of style. Lastly, the words used, the forms of speech, and the construction of the sentences are different. For, as Thucydides remarks, it makes all the difference whether the composition is to be a possession for all time or a declamation for the moment; † oratory has to do with the latter, history with the former. Hence it is that I do not feel tempted to hopelessly jumble together two dissimilar styles which differ from one another just because of their great importance, and I am afraid I should become bewildered by such a terrible medley and write in the one style just where I ought to be employing the other. For the meantime, therefore, to use the language of the courts, I ask your gracious permission to go on with my pleading. However, do you be good enough even now to consider the period which it would be best for me to tackle. Shall it be a period of ancient history which others have dealt with before me? If so, the materials are all ready to hand, but the putting them together would be a heavy task. On the other hand, if I choose a modern period which has not been dealt with, I shall get but small thanks and am bound to give serious offence. For, besides the fact that the general standard of morality is so lax that there is much more to censure than to praise, you are sure to be called niggardly if you praise and too censorious if you censure, though you may have been lavish of appreciation and scrupulously guarded in reproach. However, these considerations do not stay me, for I have the courage of my convictions. I only beg of you to prepare the way for me in the direction you urge me to take, and choose a subject for me, so that, when I am at length ready to take pen in hand, no other overpowering reason may crop up to make me hesitate and delay my purpose. Farewell. 7.9. To Fuscus. You ask me how I think you ought to arrange your studies in the retirement you have long been enjoying. I think the most useful plan - and many others give the same advice - is to translate from Greek into Latin, or from Latin into Greek. By practising this you acquire fitness and beauty of expression, a good stock of metaphors, and the power of saying what you mean, whilst, by imitating the best models, you fall into the way of finding thoughts similar to theirs. Those points again which may have slipped your memory as you read are retained there as you translate, and you gain thereby in intelligence and judgment. When you have read an author sufficiently to master his subject and treatment, it will do you no harm to try and rival him, as it were, and write your version out, and then compare it with the book, carefully considering where the original is better expressed than your copy, and vice versa. You may justly congratulate yourself if in a few places yours is the superior, and you may be heartily ashamed of yourself if his beats yours at every point. Occasionally, you may with profit select some very well-known passages and try to improve even on them. This may be a daring contest for you to enter, but it will not be presumptuous on your part, as you will do it in secret, though it is to be remembered that many have emerged from such contests with great credit to themselves, and have shown themselves superior - owing to their not despairing of success - to those whom they thought it would have been sufficient honour to themselves to follow. You will also be able to handle the whole theme again after it has passed out of your mind, to retain some passages, to reject even more, to interpolate and re-write others. That is a laborious task, I know, and very tedious, but the very fact of its being difficult makes it remunerative - in that you feel your enthusiasm kindling afresh, and return to the charge anew after your energies had failed altogether or become languid. Then finally you graft new limbs, as it were, on to the finished trunk and without disturbing the original formation. I know that at the present time your principal study is that of oratory, but I am far from advising you to be for ever cultivating that controversial and, I might say, bellicose branch of letters. For just as our fields gather fresh strength from a change and variety in the crops we sow, so our minds are refreshed by change and variety of study. Occasionally I should like you to take some passage of history, and I would have you to pay considerable attention to letter-writing ; for it often happens that a speaker finds it imperative to be able to explain certain points he may be making, not only with a historical, but also with a poetical touch, and by writing letters one acquires a terse and clear style. It is advisable too to dabble in poetry, not by composing long continuous poems - for they can never be finished except one has abundant leisure - but short epigrammatic verse, which gives you an air of distinction, no matter how serious and responsible may be your profession. Verses like these are spoken of as mere interludes, yet they sometimes win a man as much reputation as his serious occupations. And therefore - for why should I not break out into poetry as I am urging you to write verses? - "As wax is admired, if it be soft and yielding to the touch of deft fingers and in obedience thereto becomes a work of art, stamped either with the form of Mars or chaste Minerva, or representing either Venus or Venus's son ; as hallowed streams do more than stay the path of lire, and often refresh the flowers and meadows green - so the intellect of man should be moulded and led through the plastic arts and be trained to become mobile." Hence it is that the noblest orators - and the noblest men too - used to exercise or amuse themselves in this way, or I should rather say amused and exercised themselves, for it is remarkable how these trifles sharpen a man's wits and at the same time give relaxation to the brain. For they range over love, hatred, anger, pity, mirth - every feeling, in a word, that meets us in everyday life, in the forum, or in the courts. They serve the same useful purpose as other verses, for as soon as we are freed from the exigencies of metre, we take pleasure in fluent prose and our pens run on with greater zest when we have tried both and comparison tells us which is the easier. I have perhaps gone into greater detail than you asked me to, but there is still one point I have omitted, for I have not told you what I think you ought to read, though in one sense I did when I told you what you ought to write. You must bear in mind to choose carefully authors of all styles, for there is an old proverb that a man should read much but not read a multitude of books. Who those authors are is too well known and approved to need further explanation, and, besides, I have let this letter run to such unconscionable length that, while advising you how you ought to study, I have robbed you of time to study. However, pick up your writing-pad again, and either start on one of the subjects I have suggested or carry through the work on which you have already begun. Farewell. |
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