Cicero's Brutus or History of Famous Orators; also His Orator, or Accomplished Speaker.

by Marcus Tullius Cicero

But I did not always indulge myself in this excessive ardour of expression, or speak every thing in the same manner: for even that youthful redundance which was so visible in the defence of Roscius, had many passages which were plain and simple, and some which were, tolerably humourous. But the Orations in defence of Habitus, and Cornelius, and indeed many others; (for no single Orator, even among the peaceful and speculative Athenians, has composed such a number as I have;)—these, I say, have all that variety which I so much approve. For have Homer and Ennius, and the rest of the Poets, but especially the tragic writers, not expressed themselves at all times with the same elevation, but frequently varied their manner, and sometimes lowered it to the style of conversation; and shall I oblige myself never to descend from that highest energy of language? Bit why do I mention the Poets whose talents are divine! The very actors on the stage, who have most excelled in their profession, have not only succeeded in very different characters, though still in the same province; but a comedian has often acted tragedies, and a tragedian comedies so as to give us universal satisfaction. Wherefore, then, should not I also exert my efforts? But when I say myself, my worthy Brutus I mean you: for as to me, I have already done all, I was capable of doing. Would you, then, plead every cause in the same manner? Or is there any sort of causes which your genius would decline? Or even in the same cause, would you always express yourself in the same strain, and without any variety? Your favourite Demosthenes, whose brazen statue I lately beheld among your own, and your family images, when I had the pleasure to visit you at Tusculanum,—Demosthenes, I say, was nothing inferior to Lysias in simplicity; to Hyperides in smartness and poignancy, or to Aeschines in the smoothness and splendor of his language. There are many of his Orations which are entirely of the close and simple character, as that against Lepsines; many which are all nervous, and striking, as those against Philip; and many which are of a mixed character, as that against Aeschines, concerning the false embassy, and another against the same person in defence of Ctesiphon. At other times he strikes into the mean at his pleasure, and quitting the nervous character, descends to this with all the ease imaginable. But he raises the acclamations of his audience, and his Oratory is then most weighty and powerful, when he applies himself to the nervous.

But as our enquiries relate to the art, and not to the artist, let us leave him for the present, and consider the nature and the properties of the object before us,—that is, of Eloquence. We must keep in mind, however, what I have already hinted,—that we are not required to deliver a system of precepts, but to write as judges and critics, rather than teachers. But I have expatiated so largely upon the subject, because I foresee that you (who are, indeed, much better versed in it, than I who pretend to inform you) will not be my only reader; but that my little essay, though not much perhaps to my credit, will be made public, and with your name prefixed to it.

I am of opinion, therefore, that a finished Orator should not only possess the talent (which, indeed, is peculiar, to himself) of speaking copiously and diffusively: but that he should also borrow the assistance of it's nearest neighbour, the art of Logic. For though public speaking is one thing, and disputing another; and though there is a visible difference between a private controversy, and a public Harangue; yet both the one and the other come under the notion of reasoning. But mere discourse and argument belongs to the Logician, and the art of Speaking gracefully and ornamentally is the prerogative of the Orator. Zeno, the father of the Stoics, used to illustrate the difference between the two by holding up his hand;—for when he clenched his fingers, and presented a close fist,— "that," he said, "was an emblem of Logic:"—but when he spread them out again, and displayed his open hand,—"this," said he, "resembles Eloquence." But Aristotle observed before him, in the introduction to his Rhetoric, that it is an art which has a near resemblance to that of Logic;—and that the only difference between them is, that the method of reasoning in the former is more diffusive, and in the latter more close and contracted.

I, therefore, advise that our finished Orator make himself master of every thing in the art of Logic, which is applicable to his profession:—an art (as your thorough knowledge of it has already informed you) which is taught after two methods. For Aristotle himself has delivered a variety of precepts concerning the art of Reasoning:—and besides these, the Dialecticians (as they are called) have produced many intricate and thorny speculations of their own. I am, therefore, of opinion, that he who is ambitious to be applauded for his Eloquence, should not be wholly unacquainted with this branch of Erudition; but that he ought (at least) to be properly instructed either in the old method, or in that of Chrysippus. In the first place, he should understand the force, the extension, and the different species of words as they stand singly, or connected into sentences. He should likewise be acquainted with the various modes and forms in which any conception of the mind may be expressed—the methods of distinguishing a true proposition from a false one;—the different conclusions which result from different premises;—the true consequences and opposites to any given proposition;—and, if an argument is embarrassed by ambiguities, how to unravel each of them by an accurate distinction. These particulars, I say, should be well understood by an Orator, because they are such as frequently occur: but as they are naturally rugged and unpleasing, they should be relieved in practice by an easy brilliance of expression.

But as in every topic which is discussed by reason and method, we should first settle what it is we are to discourse upon,—(for unless the parties in a dispute are agreed about the subject of it, they can neither reason with propriety, nor bring the argument to an issue;)—it will frequently be necessary to explain our notions of it, and, when the matter is intricate, to lay it open by a definition;—for a definition is only a sentence, or explanation, which specifies, in as few words as possible, the nature of the object we propose to consider. After the genus, or kind, has been sufficiently determined, we must then proceed (you know) to examine into it's different species, or subordinate parts, that our whole discourse may be properly distributed among them. Our Orator, then, should be qualified to make a just definition;—though not in such a close and contracted form, as in the critical debates of the Academy, but more explicitly and copiously, and as will be best adapted to the common way of thinking, and the capacity of the vulgar. He is likewise, as often as occasion requires, to divide the genus into it's proper species, so as to be neither defective, nor redundant. But how and when this should be done, is not our present business to consider: because, as I observed before, I am not to assume the part of a teacher, but only of a critic and a judge.

But he ought to acquaint himself not only with the art of Logic, but with all the common and most useful branches of Morality. For without a competent knowledge of these, nothing can be advanced and unfolded with any spirit and energy, or with becoming dignity and freedom, either concerning religion,—death,—filial piety,—the love of our country,— things good or evil,—the several virtues and vices,—the nature of moral obligation,—grief or pleasure, and the other emotions of the mind,—or the various errors and frailties of humanity,—and a variety of important topics which are often closely connected with forensic causes; though here(it is true) they must be touched upon more slightly and superficially. I am now speaking of the materials of Eloquence, and not of the art itself:—for an Orator should always be furnished with a plentiful stock of sentiments,—(I mean such as may claim the attention of the learned, as well as of the vulgar)—before he concerns himself about the language and the manner in which he ought to express himself.

That he may make a still more respectable and elevated figure (as we have already observed of Pericles) he should not be unacquainted with the principles of Natural Philosophy. For when he descends, as it were, from the starry heavens, to the little concerns of humanity, he will both think and speak with greater dignity and splendor. But after acquainting himself with those divine and nobler objects of contemplation, I would have him attend to human concerns. In particular, let him make himself master of the Civil Law, which is of daily, and indeed necessary use in every kind of causes. For what can be more scandalous, than to undertake the management of judicial suits and controversies, without a proper knowledge of the laws, and of the principles of Equity and Jurisprudence? He should also be well versed in History and the venerable records of Antiquity, but particularly those of his own country: not neglecting, however, to peruse the annals of other powerful nations, and illustrious monarchs;—a toil which has been considerably shortened by our friend Atticus, who (though he has carefully specified the time of every event, and omitted no transaction of consequence) has comprized the history of seven hundred years in a single volume. To be unacquainted with what has passed in the world, before we came into it ourselves, is to be always children. For what is the age of a single mortal, unless it is connected, by the aid of History, with the times of our ancestors? Besides, the relation of past occurrences, and the producing pertinent and striking examples, is not only very entertaining, but adds a great deal of dignity and weight to what we say.

Thus furnished and equipped our Orator may undertake the management of causes. But, in the first place, he should be well acquainted with their different kinds. He should know, for instance, that every judicial controversy must turn either upon a matter of fact, or upon the meaning of some particular expression. As to the former, this must always relate either to the reality of a fast, the equity of it, or the name it bears in law. As to forms of expression, these may become the subject of controversy, when they are either ambiguous, or contradictory. For when the spirit of a law appears to be at variance with the letter of it, this must cause an ambiguity which commonly arises from some of the preceding terms; so that in this case (for such is the nature of an ambiguity) the law will appear to have a double meaning.

As the kinds of causes are so few, the rules for the invention of arguments must be few also. The topics, or common places from which those arguments are derived, are twofold,—the one inherent in the subject, and the other assumptive. A skilful management of the former contributes most to, give weight to a discourse, and strike the attention of the hearer: because they are easy, and familiar to the understanding.

What farther remains (within the province of the Art) but that we should begin our discourses so as to conciliate the hearer's good-will, or raise his expectation, or prepare him to receive what follows?—to state the case before us so concisely, and yet so plausibly and clearly, as that the substance of it may be easily comprehended?—to support our own proofs, and refute those of our antagonist, not in a confused and disorderly manner, but so that every inference may be fairly deducible from the premises?—and, in the last place, to conclude the whole with a peroration either to inflame or allay the passions of the audience? How each of these parts should be conducted is a subject too intricate and extensive for our present consideration: for they are not always to be managed in the same manner.