For they who admire Isocrates above all things, place this among his very highest panegyrics, that he was the first person who added rhythm to prose writing. For they say that, as he perceived that orators were listened to with seriousness, but poets with pleasure, he then aimed at rhythm so as to use it in his orations both for the sake of giving pleasure, and also that variety of sound might prevent weariness. And this is said by them in some degree correctly, but not wholly so. For we must confess that no one was ever more thoroughly skilled in that sort of learning than Isocrates; but still the original inventor of rhythm was Thrasymachus; all whose writings are even too carefully rhythmical. For, as I said a little while ago, the principle of things like one another being placed side by side, sentence after sentence being ended in a similar manner, and contraries being compared with contraries, so that, even if one took no pains about it, most sentences would end musically, was first discovered by Gorgias; but he used it without any moderation. And that is, as I have said before one of the three divisions of arrangement. Both of these men were predecessors of Isocrates; so that it was in his moderation, not in his invention, that he is superior to them. For he is more moderate in the way in which he inverts or alters the sense of words; and also in his attention to rhythm. But Gorgias is a more insatiable follower of this system, and (even according to his own admission) abuses these elegances in an unprecedented way; but Isocrates (who while a young man had heard Gorgias when he was an old man in Thessaly) put all these things under more restraint. Moreover he himself, as he advanced in age, (and he lived nearly a hundred years,) relaxed in his ideas of the exceeding necessity for rhythm; as he declares in that book which he wrote to Philip of Macedon, when he was a very old man, in which he says that he is less attentive to rhythm than he had formerly been. And so he had corrected not only his predecessors, but himself also.

LIII. Since, then, we have those men whom we have mentioned as the authors and originators of a well-adapted oration, and since its origin has been thus explained, we must now seek for the cause. And that is so evident, that I marvel that the ancients were not influenced by it; especially when, as is often the case, they often by chance made use of well-rounded and well-arranged periods. And when they had produced their impression on the minds and ears of men, so as to make it very plain that what chance had effected had been received with pleasure, certainly they ought to have taken note of what had been done, and have imitated themselves; for the ears, or the mind by the report of the ears, contains in itself a natural measurement of all sounds. That is how it distinguishes between long and short sounds; and always watches for well-wrought and moderate periods. It feels that some are mutilated and curtailed, as it were, and with those it is offended, as if it were defrauded of its due; others it feels to be too long, and running out to an immoderate length, and those the ears reject even more than the first; for as in most cases, so especially in this kind of thing, it happens that what is in excess is much more offensive than that which errs on the side of deficiency.

As, therefore, poetry and verse was invented by the nicety of the ear, and the careful observation of clever men; so it has been noticed in oratory, much later, indeed, but still in deference to the promptings of the same nature, that there are some certain rules and bounds, within which words and paragraphs ought to be confined.

Since, therefore, we have thus shown the cause, we will now, if you please, explain the nature of it; for that was the third division; and that involves a discussion which has no reference to the original plan of this treatise, but which belongs rather to the arcana of the art. For the question may be asked, what is the rhythm of a speech; and where it is placed; and in what it originates; and whether it is one thing, or two, or more; and on what principles it is arranged; and for what purpose; and how and in what part it is situated, and in what way it is employed so as to give any pleasure.

But as in most cases, so also in this one, there are two ways of looking at the question; one of which is longer, the other shorter, and at the same time plainer.

LIV. But in the longer way the first question is, whether there actually is any such thing as a rhythmical oration at all; (for some persons do not think that there is, because there is not in oratory any positive rule, as there is in verses, and because the people who assert that there is that rhythm cannot give any reason why there is.) In the next place, if there is rhythm in an oration, what sort of rhythm it is; and whether it is of more than one kind; and whether it consists of poetical rhythm, or of some other kind; and if it consists of poetical rhythm, of which poetical rhythm, (for some think that there is but one sort of poetical rhythm, while others think there are many kinds.) In the next place, the question arises, whatever sorts of rhythm there may be, whether one or more, whether they are common to every kind of oratory, (since there is one kind used in narrating, another kind in persuading, and another in teaching,) or whether the different kinds are all adapted equally to every sort of oratory. If the different kinds are common to each kind of oratory, what are they? If there is a difference, then what is the difference, and why is the rhythm less visible in a speech than in a verse? Besides, there is a question whether what is rhythmical in a speech is made so solely by rhythm, or also by some especial arrangement of words, or by the kind of words employed; or whether each division has its component parts, so that rhythm consists of intervals, arrangement of words, while the character of the words themselves is visible being a sort of shape and light of the speech; and whether arrangement is not the principal thing of all, and whether it is not by that that rhythm is produced, and those things which I have called the forms and light of a speech, and which, as I have said, the Greeks call [Greek: schaemata]. But that which is pleasant when uttered by the voice, and that which is made perfect by careful regulation, and brilliant by the nature of the words employed, are not one and the same thing, although they are both akin to rhythm, because each is perfect of itself; but an arrangement differs from both, and is wholly dependent on the dignity or sweetness of the language employed.

These are the main questions which arise out of an inquiry into the nature of oratory.

LV. It is, then, not hard to know that there is a certain rhythm in a speech: for the senses decide that. And it is absurd not to admit an evident fact, merely because we cannot find out why it happens. And verse itself was not invented by à priori reasoning, but by nature and the senses, and these last were taught by carefully digested reason what was the fact; and accordingly it was the careful noticing and observation of nature which produced art.

But in verses the matter is more evident. For although there are some kinds of verse which, if they be not chanted, appear but little to differ from prose; and this is especially the case in all the very best of those poets who are called [Greek: lyriloi] by the Greeks; for when you have stripped them of the singing, the language remains almost naked. And some of our countrymen are like them. Like that line in Thyestes:—

"Quemnam te esse dicam, qui tarda in senectute" …