THE

ORATIONS

OF

MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO

LITERALLY TRANSLATED BY

C. D. YONGE, M. A. 

FELLOW OF THE ROYAL UNIVERSITY OF IRELAND, ETC. 

VOL. IV. 

CONTAINING

THE FOURTEEN ORATIONS AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS; TO WHICH ARE APPENDEDTHE TREATISE ON RHETORICAL INVENTION; THE ORATOR; TOPICS; ONRHETORICAL PARTITIONS, ETC. 

1903

[_Reprinted from Stereotype plates_. ]

CONTENTS. 

The Fourteen Orations against M. Antonius, called Philippics:--

The First Philippic

The Second Philippic

The Third Philippic

The Fourth Philippic

The Fifth Philippic

The Sixth Philippic

The Seventh Philippic

The Eighth Philippic

The Ninth Philippic

The Tenth Philippic

The Eleventh Philippic

The Twelfth Philippic

The Thirteenth Philippic

The Fourteenth Philippic

 * * * * *

TREATISE ON RHETORICAL INVENTION:--

Book I. 

Book II. 

THE ORATOR

TREATISE on TOPICS

A DIALOGUE CONCERNING ORATORICAL PARTITIONS

TREATISE ON THE BEST STYLE OF ORATORS

THE FOURTEEN ORATIONS OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS, CALLEDPHILIPPICS. 

THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 

THE ARGUMENT

When Julius, or, as he is usually called by Cicero Caius Caesar wasslain on the 15th of March, A. U. C. 710, B. C. 44 Marcus Antoniuswas his colleague in the consulship, and he, being afraid that theconspirators might murder him too, (and it is said that they haddebated among themselves whether they would or no) concealed himselfon that day and fortified his house, till perceiving that nothingwas intended against him, he ventured to appear in public the dayfollowing. Lepidus was in the suburbs of Rome with a regular army, ready to depart for the government of Spain, which had been assignedto him with a part of Gaul. In the night, after Caesar's death heoccupied the forum with his troops and thought of making himselfmaster of the city, but Antonius dissuaded him from that idea and wonhim over to his views by giving his daughter in marriage to Lepidus'sson, and by assisting him to seize on the office of Pontifex Maximus, which was vacant by Caesar's death. 

To the conspirators he professed friendship, sent his son among themas a hostage of his sincerity, and so deluded them, that Brutus suppedwith Lepidus, and Cassius with Antonius. By these means he got them toconsent to his passing a decree for the confirmation of all Caesar'sacts, without describing or naming them more precisely. At last, onthe occasion of Caesar's public funeral, he contrived so to inflame thepopulace against the conspirators, that Brutus and Cassius had somedifficulty in defending their houses and their lives and he graduallyalarmed them so much, and worked so cunningly on their fears that theyall quitted Rome. Cicero also left Rome, disapproving greatly of thevacillation and want of purpose in the conspirators. On the first ofJune Antonius assembled the senate to deliberate on the affairs ofthe republic, and in the interval visited all parts of Italy. In themeantime young Octavius appeared on the stage; he had been left byCaesar, who was his uncle, the heir to his name and estate. He returnedfrom Apollonia, in Macedonia, to Italy as soon as he heard of hisuncle's death, and arrived at Naples on the eighteenth of April, wherehe was introduced by Hirtius and Pansa to Cicero, whom he promisedto be guided in all respects by his directions. He was now betweeneighteen and nineteen years of age. 

He began by the representation of public spectacles and games inhonour of Caesar's victories. In the meantime Antonius, in his progressthrough Italy, was making great use of the decree confirming allCaesar's acts, which he interpolated and forged in the most shamelessmanner. Among other things he restored Deiotarus to all his dominions, having been bribed to do so by a hundred millions of sesterces by theking's agents, but Deiotarus himself, as soon as he heard of Caesar'sdeath, seized all his dominions by force. He also seized the publictreasure which Caesar had deposited in the temple of Ops, amounting toabove four millions and a half of our money, and with this he won overDolabella, [1] who had seized the consulship on the death of Caesar, andthe greater part of the army. 

At the end of May Cicero began to return towards Rome, in order toarrive there in time for the meeting of the senate on the first ofJune, but many of his friends dissuaded him from entering the city, and at last he determined not to appear in the senate on that day, butto make a tour in Greece, to assist him in which, Dolabella namedhim one of his lieutenants. Antonius also gave Brutus and Cassiuscommissions to buy corn in Asia and Sicily for the use of therepublic, in order to keep them out of the city. 

Meantime Sextus Pompeius, who was at the head of a considerablearmy in Spain, addressed letters to the consuls proposing termsof accommodation, which after some debate, and some importantmodifications, were agreed to, and he quitted Spain, and came as faras Marseilles on his road towards Rome. 

Cicero having started for Greece was forced to put back by contrarywinds, and returned to Velia on the seventeenth of August, where hehad a long conference with Brutus, who soon after left Italy for hisprovince of Macedonia, which Caesar had assigned him before his death, though Antonius now wished to compel him to exchange it for Crete. After this conference Cicero returned to Rome, where he was receivedwith unexampled joy, immense multitudes thronging out to meet him, andto escort him into the city. He arrived in Rome on the last day ofAugust. The next day the senate met, to which he was particularlysummoned by Antonius, but he excused himself as not having recoveredfrom the fatigue of his journey. 

Antonius was greatly offended, and in his speech in the senatethreatened openly to order his house to be pulled down, the realreason of Cicero's absenting himself from the senate being, that thebusiness of the day was to decree some new and extraordinary honoursto Caesar, and to order supplications to him as a divinity, whichCicero was determined not to concur in, though he knew it would beuseless to oppose them. 

The next day also the senate met, and Antonius absented himself, butCicero came down and delivered the following speech, which isthe first of that celebrated series of fourteen speeches made inopposition to Antonius and his measures, and called Philippics fromthe orations of Demosthenes against Philip, to which the Romans werein the habit of comparing them. [2]

I. Before, O conscript fathers, I say those things concerning therepublic which I think myself bound to say at the present time, Iwill explain to you briefly the cause of my departure from, and ofmy return to the city. When I hoped that the republic was at lastrecalled to a proper respect for your wisdom and for your authority, Ithought that it became me to remain in a sort of sentinelship, whichwas imposed upon me by my position as a senator and a man of consularrank. Nor did I depart anywhere, nor did I ever take my eyes off fromthe republic, from the day on which we were summoned to meet in thetemple of Tellus, [3] in which temple, I, as far as was in my power, laid the foundations of peace, and renewed the ancient precedent setby the Athenians, I even used the Greek word, [4] which that cityemployed in those times in allaying discords, and gave my vote thatall recollection of the existing dissensions ought to be effaced byeverlasting oblivion. 

The oration then made by Marcus Antonius was an admirable one, hisdisposition, too, appeared excellent, and lastly, by his means andby his sons', peace was ratified with the most illustrious of thecitizens, and everything else was consistent with this beginning. Heinvited the chief men of the state to those deliberations whichhe held at his own house concerning the state of the republic, hereferred all the most important matters to this order. Nothing wasat that time found among the papers of Caius Caesar except what wasalready well known to everybody, and he gave answers to every questionthat was asked of him with the greatest consistency. Were any exilesrestored? He said that one was, and only one. Were any immunitiesgranted? He answered, None. He wished us even to adopt the propositionof Servius Sulpicius, that most illustrious man, that no tabletpurporting to contain any decree or grant of Caesar's should bepublished after the Ides of March were expired. I pass over manyother things, all excellent--for I am hastening to come to a veryextraordinary act of virtue of Marcus Antonius. He utterly abolishedfrom the constitution of the republic the Dictatorship, which had bythis time attained to the authority of regal power. And that measurewas not even offered to us for discussion. He brought with him adecree of the senate, ready drawn up, ordering what he chose to havedone: and when it had been read, we all submitted to his authority inthe matter with the greatest eagerness; and, by another resolutionof the senate, we returned him thanks in the most honourable andcomplimentary language. 

II. A new light, as it were, seemed to be brought over us, now thatnot only the kingly power which we had endured, but all fear of suchpower for the future, was taken away from us; and a great pledgeappeared to have been given by him to the republic that he did wishthe city to be free, when he utterly abolished out of the republic thename of dictator, which had often been a legitimate title, on accountof our late recollection of a perpetual dictatorship. A few daysafterwards the senate was delivered from the danger of bloodshed, anda hook[5] was fixed into that runaway slave who had usurped the nameof Caius Marius. And all these things he did in concert with hiscolleague. Some other things that were done were the acts of Dolabellaalone; but, if his colleague had not been absent, would, I believe, have been done by both of them in concert. 

For when enormous evil was insinuating itself into the republic, andwas gaining more strength day by day; and when the same men wereerecting a tomb[6] in the forum, who had performed that irregularfuneral; and when abandoned men, with slaves like themselves, wereevery day threatening with more and more vehemence all the houses andtemples of the city; so severe was the rigour of Dolabella, notonly towards the audacious and wicked slaves, but also towards theprofligate and unprincipled freemen, and so prompt was his overthrowof that accursed pillar, that it seems marvellous to me that thesubsequent time has been so different from that one day. 

For behold, on the first of June, on which day they had given noticethat we were all to attend the senate, everything was changed. Nothing was done by the senate, but many and important measures weretransacted by the agency of the people, though that people was bothabsent and disapproving. The consuls elect said, that they did notdare to come into the senate. The liberators of their country wereabsent from that city from the neck of which they had removed the yokeof slavery; though the very consuls themselves professed to praisethem in their public harangues and in all their conversation. Thosewho were called Veterans, men of whose safety this order had been mostparticularly careful, were instigated not to the preservation of thosethings which they had, but to cherish hopes of new booty. And as Ipreferred hearing of those things to seeing them, and as I had anhonorary commission as lieutenant, I went away, intending to bepresent on the first of January, which appeared likely to be the firstday of assembling the senate. 

III. I have now explained to you, O conscript fathers, my designin leaving the city. Now I will briefly set before you, also, myintention in returning, which may perhaps appear more unaccountable. As I had avoided Brundusium, and the ordinary route into Greece, notwithout good reason, on the first of August I arrived at Syracuse, because the passage from that city into Greece was said to be a goodone. And that city, with which I had so intimate a connexion, couldnot, though it was very eager to do so, detain me more than one night. I was afraid that my sudden arrival among my friends might cause somesuspicion if I remained there at all. But after the winds had drivenme, on my departure from Sicily, to Leucopetra, which is a promontoryof the Rhegian district, I went up the gulf from that point, with theview of crossing over. And I had not advanced far before I was drivenback by a foul wind to the very place which I had just quitted. And asthe night was stormy, and as I had lodged that night in the villa ofPublius Valerius, my companion and intimate friend, and as I remainedall the nest day at his house waiting for a fair wind, many of thecitizens of the municipality of Rhegium came to me. And of them therewere some who had lately arrived from Rome; from them I first heardof the harangue of Marcus Antonius, with which I was so much pleasedthat, after I had read it, I began for the first time to think ofreturning. And not long afterwards the edict of Brutus and Cassius isbrought to me; which (perhaps because I love those men, even more forthe sake of the republic than of my own friendship for them) appearedto me, indeed, to be full of equity. They added besides, (for it is avery common thing for those who are desirous of bringing good news toinvent something to make the news which they bring seem more joyful, )that parties were coming to an agreement; that the senate was tomeet on the first of August; that Antonius having discarded all evilcounsellors, and having given up the provinces of Gaul, was about toreturn to submission to the authority of the senate. 

IV. But on this I was inflamed with such eagerness to return, that nooars or winds could be fast enough for me; not that I thought that Ishould not arrive in time, but lest I should be later than I wished incongratulating the republic; and I quickly arrived at Velia, where Isaw Brutus; how grieved I was, I cannot express. For it seemed to bea discreditable thing for me myself, that I should venture to returninto that city from which Brutus was departing, and that I should bewilling to live safely in a place where he could not. But he himselfwas not agitated in the same manner that I was; for, being elevatedwith the consciousness of his great and glorious exploit, he had nocomplaints to make of what had befallen him, though he lamented yourfate exceedingly. And it was from him that I first heard what had beenthe language of Lucius Piso, in the senate of August; who, althoughhe was but little assisted (for that I heard from Brutus himself) bythose who ought to have seconded him, still according to the testimonyof Brutus, (and what evidence can be more trustworthy?) and to theavowal of every one whom I saw afterwards, appeared to me to havegained great credit. I hastened hither, therefore, in order that asthose who were present had not seconded him, I might do so; not withthe hope of doing any good, for I neither hoped for that, nor did Iwell see how it was possible; but in order that if anything happenedto me, (and many things appeared to be threatening me out of theregular course of nature, and even of destiny, ) I might still leavemy speech on this day as a witness to the republic of my everlastingattachment to its interests. 

Since, then, O conscript fathers, I trust that the reason of myadopting each determination appears praiseworthy to you, before Ibegin to speak of the republic, I will make a brief complaint of theinjury which Marcus Antonius did me yesterday, to whom I am friendly, and I have at all times admitted having received some services fromhim which make it my duty to be so. 

V. What reason had he then for endeavouring, with such bitterhostility, to force me into the senate yesterday? Was I the onlyperson who was absent? Have you not repeatedly had thinner houses thanyesterday? Or was a matter of such importance under discussion, thatit was desirable for even sick men to be brought down? Hannibal, Isuppose, was at the gates, or there was to be a debate about peacewith Pyrrhus, on which occasion it is related that even the greatAppius, old and blind as he was, was brought down to the senate-house. There was a motion being made about some supplications, a kind ofmeasure when senators are not usually wanting, for they are under thecompulsion, not of pledges, but of the influence of those men whosehonour is being complimented, and the case is the same when the motionhas reference to a triumph. The consuls are so free from anxiety atthese times, that it is almost entirely free for a senator to absenthimself if he pleases. And as the general custom of our body was wellknown to me, and as I was hardly recovered from the fatigue of myjourney, and was vexed with myself, I sent a man to him, out of regardfor my friendship to him, to tell him that I should not be there. Buthe, in the hearing of you all, declared that he would come withmasons to my house; this was said with too much passion and veryintemperately. For, for what crime is there such a heavy punishmentappointed as that, that any one should venture to say in this assemblythat he, with the assistance of a lot of common operatives, would pulldown a house which had been built at the public expense in accordancewith a vote of the senate? And who ever employed such compulsionas the threat of such an injury as to a senator? or what severerpunishment has ever been he himself was unable to perform? As, infact, he has failed to perform many promises made to many people. Anda great many more of those promises have been found since his death, than the number of all the services which he conferred on and did topeople during all the years that he was alive would amount to. 

But all those things I do not change, I do not meddle with. Nay, Idefend all his good acts with the greatest earnestness. Would that themoney remained in the temple of Opis! Bloodstained, indeed, it may be, but still needful at these times, since it is not restored to those towhom it really belongs. [7] Let that, however, be squandered too, ifit is so written in his acts. Is there anything whatever that can becalled so peculiarly the act of that man who, while clad in the robeof peace, was yet invested with both civil and military command inthe republic, as a law of his? Ask for the acts of Gracchus, theSempronian laws will be brought forward; ask for those of Sylla, youwill have the Cornelian laws. What more? In what acts did the thirdconsulship of Cnaeus Pompeius consist? Why, in his laws. And if youcould ask Caesar himself what he had done in the city and in the garbof peace, he would reply that he had passed many excellent laws; buthis memoranda he would either alter or not produce at all; or, ifhe did produce them, he would not class them among his acts. But, however, I allow even these things to pass for acts; at some things Iam content to wink; but I think it intolerable that the acts of Caesarin the most important instances, that is to say, in his laws, are tobe annulled for their sake. 

VIII. What law was ever better, more advantageous, more frequentlydemanded in the best ages of the republic, than the one which forbadethe praetorian provinces to be retained more than a year, and theconsular provinces more than two? If this law be abrogated, do youthink that the acts of Caesar are maintained? What? are not all thelaws of Caesar respecting judicial proceedings abrogated by the lawwhich has been proposed concerning the third decury? And are you thedefenders of the acts of Caesar who overturn his laws? Unless, indeed, anything which, for the purpose of recollecting it, he entered in anote-book, is to be counted among his acts, and defended, howeverunjust or useless it may be; and that which he proposed to the peoplein the comitia centuriata and carried, is not to be accounted oneof the acts of Caesar. But what is that third decury? The decury ofcenturions, says he. What? was not the judicature open to that orderby the Julian law, and even before that by the Pompeian and Aurelianlaws? The income of the men, says he, was exactly defined. Certainly, not only in the case of a centurion, but in the case, too, of a Romanknight. Therefore, men of the highest honour and of the greatestbravery, who have acted as centurions, are and have been judges. I amnot asking about those men, says he. Whoever has acted as centurion, let him be a judge. But if you were to propose a law, that whoever hadserved in the cavalry, which is a higher post, should be a judge, youwould not be able to induce any one to approve of that; for a man'sfortune and worth ought to be regarded in a judge. I am not askingabout those points, says he; I am going to add as judges, commonsoldiers of the legion of Alaudae;[8] for our friends say, that thatis the only measure by which they can be saved. Oh what an insultingcompliment it is to those men whom you summon to act as judges thoughthey never expected it! For the effect of the law is, to make thosemen judges in the third decury who do not dare to judge with freedom. And in that how great, O ye immortal gods! is the error of those menwho have desired that law. For the meaner the condition of each judgeis, the greater will be the severity of judgment with which he willseek to efface the idea of his meanness; and he will strive rather toappear worthy of being classed in the honourable decuries, than tohave deservedly ranked in a disreputable one. 

IX. Another law was proposed, that men who had been condemned ofviolence and treason may appeal to the public if they please. Is thisnow a law, or rather an abrogation of all laws? For who is there atthis day to whom it is an object that that law should stand? No one isaccused under those laws; there is no one whom we think likely to beso accused. For measures which have been carried by force of arms willcertainly never be impeached in a court of justice. But the measure isa popular one. I wish, indeed, that you were willing to promote anypopular measure; for, at present, all the citizens agree with onemind and one voice in their view of its bearing on the safety of therepublic. 

What is the meaning, then, of the eagerness to pass the law whichbrings with it the greatest possible infamy, and no popularity at all?For what can be more discreditable than for a man who has committedtreason against the Roman people by acts of violence, after he hasbeen condemned by a legal decision, to be able to return to that verycourse of violence, on account of which he has been condemned? But whydo I argue any more about this law? as if the object aimed at were toenable any one to appeal? The object is, the inevitable consequencemust be, that no one can ever be prosecuted under those laws. Forwhat prosecutor will be found insane enough to be willing, after thedefendant has been condemned, to expose himself to the fury of ahired mob? or what judge will be bold enough to venture to condemn acriminal, knowing that he will immediately be dragged before a gang ofhireling operatives? It is not, therefore, a right of appeal that isgiven by that law, but two most salutary laws and modes of judicialinvestigation that are abolished. And what is this but exhorting youngmen to be turbulent, seditious, mischievous citizens?

To what extent of mischief will it not be possible to instigate thefrenzy of the tribunes now that these two rights of impeachment forviolence and for treason are annulled? What more? Is not this asubstitution of a new law for the laws of Caesar, which enact thatevery man who has been convicted of violence, and also every man whohas been convicted of treason, shall be interdicted from fire andwater? And, when those men have a right of appeal given them, are notthe acts of Caesar rescinded? And those acts, O conscript fathers, I, who never approved of them, have still thought it advisable tomaintain for the sake of concord, so that I not only did not thinkthat the laws which Caesar had passed in his lifetime ought to berepealed, but I did not approve of meddling with those even whichsince the death of Caesar you have seen produced and published. 

X. Men have been recalled from banishment by a dead man; the freedomof the city has been conferred, not only on individuals, but on entirenations and provinces by a dead man; our revenues have been diminishedby the granting of countless exemptions by a dead man. Therefore, dowe defend these measures which have been brought from his house on theauthority of a single, but, I admit, a very excellent individual, andas for the laws which he, in your presence, read, and declared, andpassed, --in the passing of which he gloried, and on which he believedthat the safety of the republic depended, especially those concerningprovinces and concerning judicial proceedings, --can we, I say, we whodefend the acts of Caesar, think that those laws deserve to be upset?

And yet, concerning those laws which were proposed, we have, at allevents, the power of complaining, but concerning those which areactually passed we have not even had that privilege. For they, withoutany proposal of them to the people, were passed before they wereframed. Men ask, what is the reason why I, or why any one of you, Oconscript fathers, should be afraid of bad laws while we have virtuoustribunes of the people? We have men ready to interpose their veto, ready to defend the republic with the sanctions of religion. We oughtto be strangers to fear. What do you mean by interposing the veto?says he, what are all these sanctions of religion which you aretalking about? Those, forsooth, on which the safety of the republicdepends. We are neglecting those things, and thinking them tooold-fashioned and foolish. The forum will be surrounded, everyentrance of it will be blocked up, armed men will be placed ingarrison, as it were, at many points. What then?--whatever isaccomplished by those means will be law. And you will order, Isuppose, all those regularly passed decrees to be engraved on brazentablets "The consuls consulted the people in regular form, " (Is thisthe way of consulting the people that we have received from ourancestors?) "and the people voted it with due regularity" What people?that which was excluded from the forum? Under what law did they do so?under that which has been wholly abrogated by violence and arms? ButI am saying all this with reference to the future, because it is thepart of a friend to point out evils which may be avoided and if theynever ensue, that will be the best refutation of my speech. I amspeaking of laws which have been proposed, concerning which you havestill full power to decide either way. I am pointing out the defects, away with them! I am denouncing violence and arms, away with them too!

XI. You and your colleague, O Dolabella, ought not, indeed, to beangry with me for speaking in defence of the republic. Although I donot think that you yourself will be; I know your willingness to listento reason. They say that your colleague, in this fortune of his, whichhe himself thinks so good, but which would seem to me more favourableif (not to use any harsh language) he were to imitate the example sethim by the consulship of his grandfathers and of his uncle, --they saythat he has been exceedingly offended. And I see what a formidablething it is to have the same man angry with me and also armed;especially at a time when men can use their swords with such impunity. But I will propose a condition which I myself think reasonable, andwhich I do not imagine Marcus Antonius will reject. If I have saidanything insulting against his way of life or against his morals, I will not object to his being my bitterest enemy. But if I havemaintained the same habits that I have already adopted in therepublic, --that is, if I have spoken my opinions concerning theaffairs of the republic with freedom, --in the first place, I beg thathe will not be angry with me for that; but, in the next place, if Icannot obtain my first request, I beg at least that he will show hisanger only as he legitimately may show it to a fellow-citizen. 

Let him employ arms, if it is necessary, as he says it is, for his owndefence: only let not those arms injure those men who have declaredtheir honest sentiments in the affairs of the republic. Now, what canbe more reasonable than this demand? But if, as has been said to me bysome of his intimate friends, every speech which is at all contraryto his inclination is violently offensive to him, even if there be noinsult in it whatever; then we will bear with the natural dispositionof our friend. But those men, at the same time, say to me, "You willnot have the same licence granted to you who are the adversary ofCaesar as might be claimed by Piso his father-in-law. " And then theywarn me of something which I must guard against; and certainly, theexcuse which sickness supplies me with, for not coming to the senate, will not be a more valid one than that which is furnished by death. 

XII. But, in the name of the immortal gods! for while I look upon you, O Dolabella, who are most dear to me, it is impossible for me to keepsilence respecting the error into which you are both falling; for Ibelieve that you, being both men of high birth, entertaining loftyviews, have been eager to acquire, not money, as some too credulouspeople suspect, a thing which has at all times been scorned by everyhonourable and illustrious man, nor power procured by violence andauthority such as never ought to be endured by the Roman people, butthe affection of your fellow-citizens, and glory. But glory is praisefor deeds which have been done, and the fame earned by great servicesto the republic; which is approved of by the testimony borne in itsfavour, not only by every virtuous man, but also by the multitude. Iwould tell you, O Dolabella, what the fruit of good actions is, if Idid not see that you have already learnt it by experience beyond allother men. 

What day can you recollect in your whole life, as ever having beamedon you with a more joyful light than the one on which, having purifiedthe forum, having routed the throng of wicked men, having inflicteddue punishment on the ringleaders in wickedness, and having deliveredthe city from conflagration and from fear of massacre, you returned toyour house? What order of society, what class of people, what rank ofnobles even was there who did not then show their zeal in praising andcongratulating you? Even I, too, because men thought that you had beenacting by my advice in those transactions, received the thanks andcongratulations of good men in your name. Remember, I pray you, ODolabella, the unanimity displayed on that day in the theatre, whenevery one, forgetful of the causes on account of which they had beenpreviously offended with you, showed that in consequence of yourrecent service they had banished all recollection of their formerindignation. Could you, O Dolabella, (it is with great concern that Ispeak, )--could you, I say, forfeit this dignity with equanimity?

XIII. And you, O Marcus Antonius, (I address myself to you, thoughin your absence, ) do you not prefer that day on which the senate wasassembled in the temple of Tellus, to all those months during whichsome who differ greatly in opinion from me think that you have beenhappy? What a noble speech was that of yours about unanimity! Fromwhat apprehensions were the veterans, and from what anxiety was thewhole state relieved by you on that occasion! when, having laid asideyour enmity against him, you on that day first consented that yourpresent colleague should be your colleague, forgetting that theauspices had been announced by yourself as augur of the Roman people;and when your little son was sent by you to the Capitol to be ahostage for peace. On what day was the senate ever more joyful than onthat day? or when was the Roman people more delighted? which had nevermet in greater numbers in any assembly whatever. Then, at last, we didappear to have been really delivered by brave men, because, as theyhad willed it to be, peace was following liberty On the next day, onthe day after that, on the third day, and on all the following days, you went on without intermission giving every day, as it were, somefresh present to the republic, but the greatest of all presents wasthat, when you abolished the name of the dictatorship. This was ineffect branding the name of the dead Caesar with everlasting ignominy, and it was your doing, --yours, I say. For as, on account of thewickedness of one Marcus Manlius, by a resolution of the Manlianfamily it is unlawful that any patrician should be called Manlius, soyou, on account of the hatred excited by one dictator, have utterlyabolished the name of dictator. 

When you had done these mighty exploits for the safety of therepublic, did you repent of your fortune, or of the dignity and renownand glory which you had acquired? Whence then is this sudden change? Icannot be induced to suspect that you have been caught by the desireof acquiring money; every one may say what he pleases, but we are notbound to believe such a thing; for I never saw anything sordid oranything mean in you. Although a man's intimate friends do sometimescorrupt his natural disposition, still I know your firmness; and Ionly wish that, as you avoid that fault, you had been able also toescape all suspicion of it. 

XIV. What I am more afraid of is lest, being ignorant of the true pathto glory, you should think it glorious for you to have more power byyourself than all the rest of the people put together, and lest youshould prefer being feared by your fellow-citizens to being loved bythem. And if you do think so, you are ignorant of the road to glory. For a citizen to be dear to his fellow-citizens, to deserve wellof the republic, to be praised, to be respected, to be loved, isglorious; but to be feared, and to be an object of hatred, is odious, detestable; and moreover, pregnant with weakness and decay. And we seethat, even in the play, the very man who said, "What care I though all men should hate my name, So long as fear accompanies their hate?"

found that it was a mischievous principle to act upon. 

I wish, O Antonius, that you could recollect your grand father ofwhom, however, you have repeatedly heard me speak. Do you think thathe would have been willing to deserve even immortality, at the priceof being feared in consequence of his licentious use of arms? What heconsidered life, what he considered prosperity, was the being equal tothe rest of the citizens in freedom, and chief of them all in worth. Therefore, to say no more of the prosperity of your grandfather, Ishould prefer that most bitter day of his death to the domination ofLucius Cinna, by whom he was most barbarously slain. 

But why should I seek to make an impression on you by my speech? For, if the end of Caius Caesar cannot influence you to prefer being lovedto being feared, no speech of any one will do any good or have anyinfluence with you; and those who think him happy are themselvesmiserable. No one is happy who lives on such terms that he may be putto death not merely with impunity, but even to the great glory of hisslayer. Wherefore, change your mind, I entreat you, and look backupon your ancestors, and govern the republic in such a way that yourfellow-citizens may rejoice that you were born; without which no onecan be happy nor illustrious. 

XV. And, indeed, you have both of you had many judgments deliveredrespecting you by the Roman people, by which I am greatly concernedthat you are not sufficiently influenced. For what was the meaningof the shouts of the innumerable crowd of citizens collected at thegladiatorial games? or of the verses made by the people? or of theextraordinary applause at the sight of the statue of Pompeius? and atthat sight of the two tribunes of the people who are opposed to you?Are these things a feeble indication of the incredible unanimity ofthe entire Roman people? What more? Did the applause at the games ofApollo, or, I should rather say, testimony and judgment there givenby the Roman people, appear to you of small importance? Oh! happy arethose men who, though they themselves were unable to be present onaccount of the violence of arms, still were present in spirit, andhad a place in the breasts and hearts of the Roman people. Unless, perhaps, you think that it was Accius who was applauded on thatoccasion, and who bore off the palm sixty years after his firstappearance, and not Brutus, who was absent from the games which hehimself was exhibiting, while at that most splendid spectacle theRoman people showed their zeal in his favour though he was absent, andsoothed their own regret for their deliverer by uninterrupted applauseand clamour. 

I myself, indeed, am a man who have at all times despised thatapplause which is bestowed by the vulgar crowd, but at the same time, when it is bestowed by those of the highest, and of the middle, and ofthe lowest rank, and, in short, by all ranks together, and when thosemen who were previously accustomed to aim at nothing but the favourof the people keep aloof, I then think that, not mere applause, but adeliberate verdict. If this appears to you unimportant, which is inreality most significant, do you also despise the fact of which youhave had experience, --namely, that the life of Aulus Hirtius is sodear to the Roman people? For it was sufficient for him to be esteemedby the Roman people as he is; to be popular among his friends, inwhich respect he surpasses everybody; to be beloved by his ownkinsmen, who do love him beyond measure; but in whose case beforedo we ever recollect such anxiety and such fear being manifested?Certainly in no one's. 

What, then, are we to do? In the name of the immortal gods, can youinterpret these facts, and see what is their purport? What do youthink that those men think of your lives, to whom the lives of thosemen who they hope will consult the welfare of the republic are sodear? I have reaped, O conscript fathers, the reward of my return, since I have said enough to bear testimony of my consistency whateverevent may befall me, and since I have been kindly and attentivelylistened to by you. And if I have such opportunities frequentlywithout exposing both myself and you to danger, I shall avail myselfof them. If not, as far as I can I shall reserve myself not formyself, but rather for the republic. I have lived long enough for thecourse of human life, or for my own glory. If any additional life isgranted to me, it shall be bestowed not so much on myself as on youand on the republic. 

THE SECOND SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. 

CALLED ALSO THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 

 * * * * *

THE ARGUMENT. 

This second speech was not actually spoken at all. Antonius wasgreatly enraged at the first speech, and summoned another meeting ofthe senate for the nineteenth day of the month, giving Cicero especialnotice to be present, and he employed the interval in preparing aninvective against Cicero, and a reply to the first Philippic. Thesenate met in the temple of Concord, but Cicero himself was persuadednot to attend by his friends, who were afraid of Antonius proceedingto actual violence against him, (and indeed he brought a strong guardof armed men with him to the senate) He spoke with the greatest furyagainst Cicero, charging him with having been the principal author andcontriver of Caesar's murder, hoping by this to inflame the soldiers, whom he had posted within hearing of his harangue. 

Soon after this, Cicero removed to a villa near Naples for greatersafety, and here he composed this second Philippic, which he did notpublish immediately, but contented himself at first with sending acopy to Brutus and Cassius, who were much pleased with it. 

I. To what destiny of mine, O conscript fathers, shall I say that itis owing, that none for the last twenty years has been an enemy to therepublic without at the same time declaring war against me? Nor isthere any necessity for naming any particular person; you yourselvesrecollect instances in proof of my statement. They have all hithertosuffered severer punishments than I could have wished for them; but Imarvel that you, O Antonius, do not fear the end of those men whoseconduct you are imitating. And in others I was less surprised at this. None of those men of former times was a voluntary enemy to me; all ofthem were attacked by me for the sake of the republic. But you, whohave never been injured by me, not even by a word, in order to appearmore audacious than Catiline, more frantic than Clodius, have of yourown accord attacked me with abuse, and have considered that youralienation from me would be a recommendation of you to impiouscitizens. 

What am I to think? that I have been despised? I see nothing either inmy life, or in my influence in the city, or in my exploits, or evenin the moderate abilities with which I am endowed, which Antoniuscan despise. Did he think that it was easiest to disparage me in thesenate? a body which has borne its testimony in favour of many mostillustrious citizens that they governed the republic well, but infavour of me alone, of all men, that I preserved it. Or did he wish tocontend with me in a rivalry of eloquence? This, indeed, is an act ofgenerosity; for what could be a more fertile or richer subject forme, than to have to speak in defence of myself, and against Antonius?This, in fact, is the truth. He thought it impossible to prove to thesatisfaction of those men who resembled himself, that he was an enemyto his country, if he was not also an enemy to me. And before I makehim any reply on the other topics of his speech, I will say a fewwords; respecting the friendship formerly subsisting between us, whichhe has accused me of violating, --for that I consider a most seriouscharge. 

II. He has complained that I pleaded once against his interest. WasI not to plead against one with whom I was quite I unconnected, inbehalf of an intimate acquaintance, of a dear friend? Was I not toplead against interest acquired not by hopes of virtue, but by thedisgrace of youth? Was I not to plead against an injustice which thatman procured to be done by the obsequiousness of a most iniquitousinterposer of his veto, not by any law regulating the privileges ofthe praetor? But I imagine that this was mentioned by you, in orderthat you might recommend yourself to the citizens, if they allrecollected that you were the son-in-law of a freedman, and that yourchildren were the grandsons of Quintus Fadius a freedman. 

But you had entirely devoted yourself to my principles; (for this iswhat you said;) you had been in the habit of coming to my house. Intruth, if you had done so, you would more have consulted your owncharacter and your reputation for chastity. But you did not do so, nor, if you had wished it, would Caius Curio have ever suffered you todo so. You have said, that you retired in my favour from the contestfor the augurship. Oh the incredible audacity! oh the monstrousimpudence of such an assertion! For, at the time when Cnaeus Pompeiusand Quintus Hortensius named me as augur, after I had been wished foras such by the whole college, (for it was not lawful for me to beput in nomination by more than two members of the college, ) you werenotoriously insolvent, nor did you think it possible for your safetyto be secured by any other means than by the destruction of therepublic. But was it possible for you to stand for the augurship at atime when Curio was not in Italy? or even at the time when you wereelected, could you have got the votes of one single tribe without theaid of Curio? whose intimate friends even were convicted of violencefor having been too zealous in your favour. 

III. But I availed myself of your friendly assistance. Of whatassistance? Although the instance which you cite I have myself atall times openly admitted. I preferred confessing that I was underobligations to you, to letting myself appear to any foolish person notsufficiently grateful. However, what was the kindness that you did me?not killing me at Brundusium? Would you then have slain the man whomthe conqueror himself, who conferred on you, as you used to boast, the chief rank among all his robbers, had desired to be safe, and hadenjoined to go to Italy? Grant that you could have slain him, is notthis, O conscript fathers, such a kindness as is done by banditti, whoare contented with being able to boast that they have granted theirlives to all those men whose lives they have not taken? and if thatwere really a kindness, then these who slew that man by whom theythemselves had been saved, and whom you yourself are in the habit ofstyling most illustrious men, would never have acquired such immortalglory. But what sort of kindness is it, to have abstained fromcommitting nefarious wickedness? It is a case in which it ought notto appear so delightful to me not to have been killed by you, asmiserable, that it should have been in your power to do such a thingwith impunity. However, grant that it was a kindness, since no greaterkindness could be received from a robber, still in what point canyou call me ungrateful? Ought I not to complain of the ruin of therepublic, lest I should appear ungrateful towards you? But in thatcomplaint, mournful indeed and miserable, but still unavoidable for aman of that rank in which the senate and people of Rome have placedme, what did I say that was insulting? that was otherwise thanmoderate? that was otherwise than friendly? and what instance was itnot of moderation to complain of the conduct of Marcus Antonius, andyet to abstain from any abusive expressions? especially when you hadscattered abroad all relics of the republic; when everything was onsale at your house by the most infamous traffic; when you confessedthat those laws which had never been promulgated, had been passed withreference to you, and by you; when you, being augur, had abolished theauspices; being consul, had taken away the power of interposing theveto; when you were escorted in the most shameful manner by armedguards; when, worn out with drunkenness and debauchery, you were everyday performing all sorts of obscenities in that chaste house of yours. But I, as if I had to contend against Marcus Crassus, with whom I havehad many severe struggles, and not with a most worthless gladiator, while complaining in dignified language of the state of the republic, did not say one word which could be called personal. Therefore, to-dayI will make him understand with what great kindness he was thentreated by me. 

IV. But he also read letters which he said that I had sent to him, like a man devoid of humanity and ignorant of the common usages oflife. For who ever, who was even but slightly acquainted with thehabits of polite men, produced in an assembly and openly read letterswhich had been sent to him by a friend, just because some quarrel hadarisen between them? Is not this destroying all companionship in life, destroying the means by which absent friends converse together? Howmany jests are frequently put in letters, which, if they were producedin public, would appear stupid! How many serious opinions, which, forall that, ought not to be published! Let this be a proof of your utterignorance of courtesy. Now mark, also, his incredible folly. Whathave you to oppose to me, O you eloquent man, as you seem at leastto Mustela Tamisius, and to Tiro Numisius? And while these men arestanding at this very time in the sight of the senate with drawnswords, I too will think you an eloquent man if you will show how youwould defend them if they were charged with being assassins. Howeverwhat answer would you make if I were to deny that I ever sentthose letters to you? By what evidence could you convict me? by myhandwriting? Of handwriting indeed you have a lucrative knowledge. [9]How can you prove it in that manner? for the letters are written byan amanuensis. By this time I envy your teacher, who for all thatpayment, which I shall mention presently, has taught you to knownothing. 

For what can be less like, I do not say an orator, but a man, than toreproach an adversary with a thing which if he denies by one singleword, he who has reproached him cannot advance one step further? ButI do not deny it; and in this very point I convict you not only ofinhumanity but also of madness. For what expression is there in thoseletters which is not full of humanity and service and benevolence? andthe whole of your charge amounts to this, that I do not express a badopinion of you in those letters; that in them I wrote as to a citizen, and as to a virtuous man, not as to a wicked man and a robber. Butyour letters I will not produce, although I fairly might, now that Iam thus challenged by you; letters in which you beg of me that you maybe enabled by my consent to procure the recall of some one from exile;and you will not attempt it if I have any objection, and you prevailon me by your entreaties. For why should I put myself in the wayof your audacity? when neither the authority of this body, nor theopinion of the Roman people, nor any laws are able to restrain you. However, what was the object of your addressing these entreaties tome, if the man for whom you were entreating was already restored by alaw of Caesar's? I suppose the truth was, that he wished it to be doneby me as a favour; in which matter there could not be any favour doneeven by himself, if a law was already passed for the purpose. 

V. But as, O conscript fathers, I have many things which I must sayboth in my own defence and against Marcus Antonius, one thing I askyou, that you will listen to me with kindness while I am speaking formyself; the other I will ensure myself, namely, that you shall listento me with attention while speaking against him. At the same timealso, I beg this of you; that if you have been acquainted with mymoderation and modesty throughout my whole life, and especially as aspeaker, you will not, when to-day I answer this man in the spiritin which he has attacked me, think that I have forgotten my usualcharacter. I will not treat him as a consul, for he did not treat meas a man of consular rank; and although he in no respect deserves tobe considered a consul, whether we regard his way of life, or hisprinciple of governing the republic, or the manner in which he waselected, I am beyond all dispute a man of consular rank. 

That, therefore, you might understand what sort of a consul heprofessed to be himself, he reproached me with my consulship;--aconsulship which, O conscript fathers, was in name, indeed, mine, butin reality yours. For what did I determine, what did I contrive, whatdid I do, that was not determined, contrived, or done, by the counseland authority and in accordance with the sentiments of this order? Andhave you, O wise man, O man not merely eloquent, dared to find faultwith these actions before the very men by whose counsel and wisdomthey were performed? But who was ever found before, except PubliusClodius, to find fault with my consulship? And his fate indeed awaitsyou, as it also awaited Caius Curio; since that is now in your housewhich was fatal to each of them. [10]

Marcus Antonius disapproves of my consulship; but it was approved ofby Publius Servilius--to name that man first of the men of consularrank who had died most recently. It was approved of by QuintusCatulus, whose authority will always carry weight in this republic;it was approved of by the two Luculli, by Marcus Crassus, by QuintusHortensius, by Caius Curio, by Caius Piso, by Marcus Glabrio, byMarcus Lepidus, by Lucius Volcatius, by Caius Figulus, by DecimusSilanus and Lucius Murena, who at that time were the consuls elect;the same consulship also which was approved of by those men ofconsular rank, was approved of by Marcus Cato; who escaped many evilsby departing from this life, and especially the evil of seeing youconsul. But, above all, my consulship was approved of by CnaeusPompeius, who, when he first saw me, as he was leaving Syria, embracing me and congratulating me, said, that it was owing to myservices that he was about to see his country again. But why should Imention individuals? It was approved of by the senate, in a very fullhouse, so completely, that there was no one who did not thank me as ifI had been his parent, who did not attribute to me the salvation ofhis life, of his fortunes, of his children, and of the republic. 

VI. But, since the republic has been now deprived of those men whomI have named, many and illustrious as they were, let us come to theliving, since two of the men of consular rank are still left to us:Lucius Cotta, a man of the greatest genius and the most consummateprudence, proposed a supplication in my honour for those very actionswith which you find fault, in the most complimentary language, andthose very men of consular rank whom I have named, and the wholesenate, adopted his proposal; an honour which has never been paid toany one else in the garb of peace from the foundation of the cityto my time. With what eloquence, with what firm wisdom, with whata weight of authority did Lucius Caesar your uncle, pronounce hisopinion against the husband of his own sister, your stepfather. Butyou, when you ought to have taken him as your adviser and tutor in allyour designs, and in the whole conduct of your life, preferred beinglike your stepfather to resembling your uncle. I, who had no connexionwith him, acted by his counsels while I was consul. Did you, whowere his sister's son, ever once consult him on the affairs of therepublic?

But who are they whom Antonius does consult? O ye immortal gods, theyare men whose birthdays we have still to learn. To-day Antonius is notcoming down. Why? He is celebrating the birthday feast at his villa. In whose honour? I will name no one. Suppose it is in honour of somePhormio, or Gnatho, or even Ballio. [11] Oh the abominable profligacyof the man! Oh how intolerable is his impudence, his debauchery, andhis lust! Can you, when you have one of the chiefs of the senate, acitizen of singular virtue, so nearly related to you, abstain fromever consulting him on the affairs of the republic, and consult menwho have no property whatever of their own, and are draining yours?

VII. Yes, your consulship, forsooth, is a salutary one for the state, mine a mischievous one. Have you so entirely lost all shame as wellas all chastity, that you could venture to say this in that templein which I was consulting that senate which formerly in the fullenjoyment of its honours presided over the world? And did you placearound it abandoned men armed with swords? But you have dared besides(what is there which you would not dare?) to say that the CapitolineHill, when I was consul, was full of armed slaves. I was offeringviolence to the senate, I suppose, in order to compel the adoption ofthose infamous decrees of the senate. O wretched man, whether thosethings are not known to you, (for you know nothing that is good, ) orwhether they are, when you dare to speak so shamelessly before suchmen! For what Roman knight was there, what youth of noble birth exceptyou, what man of any rank or class who recollected that he was acitizen, who was not on the Capitoline Hill while the senate wasassembled in this temple? who was there, who did not give in his name?Although there could not be provided checks enough, nor were the booksable to contain their names. 

In truth, when wicked men, being compelled by the revelations of theaccomplices, by their own handwriting, and by what I may almost callthe voices of their letters, were confessing that they had planned theparricidal destruction of their country, and that they had agreedto burn the city, to massacre the citizens, to devastate Italy, todestroy the republic; who could have existed without being roused todefend the common safety? especially when the senate and people ofRome had a leader then; and if they had one now like he was then, thesame fate would befall you which did overtake them. 

He asserts that the body of his stepfather was not allowed burial byme. But this is an assertion that was never made by Publius Clodius, a man whom, as I was deservedly an enemy of his, I grieve now to seesurpassed by you in every sort of vice. But how could it occur to youto recal to our recollection that you had been educated in the houseof Publius Lentulus? Were you afraid that we might think that youcould have turned out as infamous as you are by the mere force ofnature, if your natural qualities had not been strengthened byeducation?

VIII. But you are so senseless that throughout the whole of yourspeech you were at variance with yourself; so that you said thingswhich had not only no coherence with each other but which were mostinconsistent with and contradictory to one another; so that there wasnot so much opposition between you and me as there was between you andyourself. You confessed that your stepfather had been duplicatedin that enormous wickedness, yet you complained that he had hadpunishment inflicted on him. And by doing so you praised what waspeculiarly my achievement, and blamed that which was wholly the act ofthe senate. For the detection and arrest of the guilty parties was mywork, their punishment was the work of the senate. But that eloquentman does not perceive that the man against whom he is speaking isbeing praised by him, and that those before whom he is speakingare being attacked by him. But now what an act, I will not say ofaudacity, (for he is anxious to be audacious, ) but (and that is whathe is not desirous of) what an act of folly, in which he surpassesall men, is it to make mention of the Capitoline Hill, at a time whenarmed men are actually between our benches--when men, armed withswords, are now stationed in this same temple of Concord, O yeimmortal gods, in which, while I was consul, opinions most salutary tothe state were delivered, owing to which it is that we are all aliveat this day. 

Accuse the senate; accuse the equestrian body, which at that time wasunited with the senate; accuse every order of society, and all thecitizens, as long as you confess that this assembly at this verymoment is besieged by Ityrean[12] soldiers. It is not so much a proofof audacity to advance these statements so impudently, as of utterwant of sense to be unable to see their contradictory nature. Forwhat is more insane than, after you yourself have taken up arms to domischief to the republic, to reproach another with having taken themup to secure its safety? On one occasion you attempted even to bewitty. O ye good gods, how little did that attempt suit you! And yetyou are a little to be blamed for your failure in that instance, too. For you might have got some wit from your wife, who was an actress. "Arms to the gown must yield. " Well, have they not yielded? Butafterwards the gown yielded to your arms. Let us inquire then whetherit was better for the arms of wicked men to yield to the freedom ofthe Roman people, or that our liberty should yield to your arms. Norwill I make any further reply to you about the verses. I will onlysay briefly that you do not understand them, nor any other literaturewhatever. That I have never at any time been wanting to the claimsthat either the republic or my friends had upon me; but neverthelessthat in all the different sorts of composition on which I haveemployed myself, during my leisure hours, I have always endeavoured tomake my labours and my writings such as to be some advantage to ouryouth, and some credit to the Roman name. But, however, all thishas nothing to do with the present occasion. Let us consider moreimportant matters. 

IX. You have said that Publius Clodius was slain by my contrivance. What would men have thought if he had been slain at the time when youpursued him in the forum with a drawn sword, in the sight of all theRoman people; and when you would have settled his business if he hadnot thrown himself up the stairs of a bookseller's shop, and, shuttingthem against you, checked your attack by that means? And I confessthat at that time I favoured you, but even you yourself do not saythat I had advised your attempt. But as for Milo, it was not possibleeven for me to favour his action. For he had finished the businessbefore any one could suspect that he was going to do it. Oh, but Iadvised it. I suppose Milo was a man of such a disposition that he wasnot able to do a service to the republic if he had not some one toadvise him to do it. But I rejoiced at it. Well, suppose I did; was Ito be the only sorrowful person in the city, when every one else wasin such delight? Although that inquiry into the death of PubliusClodius was not instituted with any great wisdom. For what was thereason for having a new law to inquire into the conduct of the man whohad slain him, when there was a form of inquiry already established bythe laws? However, an inquiry was instituted. And have you now beenfound, so many years afterwards, to say a thing which, at the timethat the affair was under discussion, no one ventured to say againstme? But as to the assertion that you have dared to make, and that atgreat length too, that it was by my means that Pompeius was alienatedfrom his friendship with Caesar, and that on that account it was myfault that the civil war was originated; in that you have not erred somuch in the main facts, as (and that is of the greatest importance) inthe times. 

X. When Marcus Bibulus, a most illustrious citizen, was consul, Iomitted nothing which I could possibly do or attempt to draw offPompeius from his union with Caesar. In which, however, Caesar wasmore fortunate than I, for he himself drew off Pompeius from hisintimacy with me. But afterwards, when Pompeius joined Caesar with allhis heart, what could have been my object in attempting to separatethem then? It would have been the part of a fool to hope to do so, andof an impudent man to advise it. However, two occasions did arise, onwhich I gave Pompeius advice against Caesar. You are at liberty tofind fault with my conduct on those occasions if you can. One was whenI advised him not to continue Caesar's government for five years more. The other, when I advised him not to permit him to be considered asa candidate for the consulship when he was absent. And if I had beenable to prevail on him in either of these particulars, we should neverhave fallen into our present miseries. 

Moreover, I also, when Pompeius had now devoted to the service ofCaesar all his own power, and all the power of the Roman people, andhad begun when it was too late to perceive all those things which Ihad foreseen long before, and when I saw that a nefarious war wasabout to be waged against our country, I never ceased to be theadviser of peace, and concord, and some arrangement. And that languageof mine was well known to many people, --"I wish, O Cnaeus Pompeius, that you had either never joined in a confederacy with Caius Caesar, or else that you had never broken it off. The one conduct would havebecome your dignity, and the other would have been suited to yourprudence. " This, O Marcus Antonius, was at all times my advice bothrespecting Pompeius and concerning the republic. And if it hadprevailed, the republic would still be standing, and you would haveperished through your own crimes, and indigence, and infamy. 

XI. But these are all old stories now. This charge, however, is quitea modern one, that Caesar was slain by my contrivance. I am afraid, Oconscript fathers, lest I should appear to you to have brought up asham accuser against myself (which is a most disgraceful thing to do);a man not only to distinguish me by the praises which are my due, butto load me also with those which do not belong to me. For who everheard my name mentioned as an accomplice in that most glorious action?and whose name has been concealed who was in the number of thatgallant band? Concealed, do I say? Whose name was there which was notat once made public? I should sooner say that some men had boasted inorder to appear to have been concerned in that conspiracy, though theyhad in reality known nothing of it, than that any one who had beenan accomplice in it could have wished to be concealed. Moreover, howlikely it is, that among such a number of men, some obscure, someyoung men who had not the wit to conceal any one, my name couldpossibly have escaped notice! Indeed, if leaders were wanted forthe purpose of delivering the country, what need was there of myinstigating the Bruti, one of whom saw every day in his house theimage of Lucius Brutus, and the other saw also the image of Ahala?Were these the men to seek counsel from the ancestors of others ratherthan from their own? and out of doors rather than at home? What? CaiusCassius, a man of that family which could not endure, I will not saythe domination, but even the power of any individual, --he, I suppose, was in need of me to instigate him? a man who, even withoutthe assistance of these other most illustrious men, would haveaccomplished this same deed in Cilicia, at the mouth of the riverCydnus, if Caesar had brought his ships to that bank of the riverwhich he had intended, and not to the opposite one. Was CnaeusDomitius spurred on to seek to recover his dignity, not by the deathof his father, a most illustrious man, nor by the death of his uncle, nor by the deprivation of his own dignity, but by my advice andauthority? Did I persuade Caius Trebonius? a man whom I should nothave ventured even to advise. On which account the republic owes himeven a larger debt of gratitude, because he preferred the libertyof the Roman people to the friendship of one man, and because hepreferred overthrowing arbitrary power to sharing it. Was I theinstigator whom Lucius Tillius Cimber followed? a man whom I admiredfor having performed that action, rather than ever expected that hewould perform it; and I admired him on this account, that he wasunmindful of the personal kindnesses which he had received, butmindful of his country. What shall I say of the two Servilii? ShallI call them Cascas, or Ahalas? and do you think that those men wereinstigated by my authority rather than by their affection for therepublic? It would take a long time to go through all the rest; and itis a glorious thing for the republic that they were so numerous, and amost honourable thing also for themselves. 

XII. But recollect, I pray you, how that clever man convicted me ofbeing an accomplice in the business. When Caesar was slain, says he, Marcus Brutus immediately lifted up on high his bloody dagger, andcalled on Cicero by name; and congratulated him on liberty beingrecovered. Why on me above all men? Because I knew of it beforehand?Consider rather whether this was not his reason for calling on me, that, when he had performed an action very like those which I myselfhad done, he called me above all men to witness that he had been animitator of my exploits. But you, O stupidest of all men, do not youperceive, that if it is a crime to have wished that Caesar should beslain--which you accuse me of having wished--it is a crime also tohave rejoiced at his death? For what is the difference between a manwho has advised an action, and one who has approved of it? or whatdoes it signify whether I wished it to be done, or rejoice that it hasbeen done? Is there any one then, except you yourself and those menwho wished him to become a king, who was unwilling that that deedshould be done, or who disapproved of it after it was done? All men, therefore, are guilty as far as this goes. In truth, all good men, asfar as it depended on them, bore a part in the slaying of Caesar. Somedid not know how to contrive it, some had not courage for it, some hadno opportunity, --every one had the inclination. 

However, remark the stupidity of this fellow, --I should rather say, ofthis brute beast. For thus he spoke:--"Marcus Brutus, whom I name todo him honour, holding aloft his bloody dagger, called upon Cicero, from which it must be understood that he was privy to the action. "Am I then called wicked by you because you suspect that I suspectedsomething; and is he who openly displayed his reeking dagger, named byyou that you may do him honour? Be it so. Let this stupidity exist inyour language: how much greater is it in your actions and opinions!Arrange matters in this way at last, O consul; pronounce the cause ofthe Bruti, of Caius Cassius, of Cnaeus Domitius, of Caius Treboniusand the rest to be whatever you please to call it: sleep off thatintoxication of yours, sleep it off and take breath. Must one applya torch to you to waken you while you are sleeping over such animportant affair? Will you never understand that you have to decidewhether those men who performed that action are homicides or assertorsof freedom?

XIII. For just consider a little; and for a moment think of thebusiness like a sober man. I who, as I myself confess, am an intimatefriend of those men, and, as you accuse me, an accomplice of theirs, deny that there is any medium between these alternatives. I confessthat they, if they be not deliverers of the Roman people and savioursof the republic, are worse than assassins, worse than homicides, worseeven than parricides: since it is a more atrocious thing to murderthe father of one's country, than one's own father. You wise andconsiderate man, what do you say to this? If they are parricides, whyare they always named by you, both in this assembly and before theRoman people, with a view to do them honour? Why has Marcus Brutus[13]been, on your motion, excused from obedience to the laws, and allowedto be absent. Why were the games of Apollo celebrated with incrediblehonour to Marcus Brutus? why were provinces given to Brutus andCassius? why were quaestors assigned to them? why was the number oftheir lieutenants augmented? And all these measures were owing to you. They are not homicides then. It follows that in your opinion they aredeliverers of their country, since there can be no other alternative. What is the matter? Am I embarrassing you? For perhaps you do notquite understand propositions which are stated disjunctively. Stillthis is the sum total of my conclusion; that since they are acquittedby you of wickedness, they are at the same time pronounced most worthyof the very most honourable rewards. 

Therefore, I will now proceed again with my oration. I will write tothem, if any one by chance should ask whether what you have imputed tome be true, not to deny it to any one. In truth, I am afraid that itmust be considered either a not very creditable thing to them, thatthey should have concealed the fact of my being an accomplice; or elsea most discreditable one to me that I was invited to be one, and thatI shirked it. For what greater exploit (I call you to witness, Oaugust Jupiter!) was ever achieved not only in this city, but in allthe earth? What more glorious action was ever done? What deed was evermore deservedly recommended to the everlasting recollection of men?Do you, then, shut me up with the other leaders in the partnership inthis design, as in the Trojan horse? I have no objection; I even thankyou for doing so, with whatever intent you do it. For the deed is sogreat an one, that I cannot compare the unpopularity which you wish toexcite against me on account of it, with its real glory. 

For who can be happier than those men whom you boast of having nowexpelled and driven from the city? What place is there either sodeserted or so uncivilized, as not to seem to greet and to covet thepresence of those men wherever they have arrived? What men are soclownish as not, when they have once beheld them, to think that theyhave reaped the greatest enjoyment that life can give? And whatposterity will be ever so forgetful, what literature will ever befound so ungrateful, as not to cherish their glory with undyingrecollection? Enrol me then, I beg, in the number of those men. 

XIV. But one thing I am afraid you may not approve of. For if I hadreally been one of their number, I should have not only got rid of theking, but of the kingly power also out of the republic; and if I hadbeen the author of the piece, as it is said, believe me, I should nothave been contented with one act, but should have finished the wholeplay. Although, if it be a crime to have wished that Caesar might beput to death, beware, I pray you, O Antonius, of what must be your owncase, as it is notorious that you, when at Narbo, formed a plan ofthe same sort with Caius Trebonius; and it was on account of yourparticipation in that design that, when Caesar was being killed, wesaw you called aside by Trebonius. But I (see how far I am from anyhorrible inclination towards, ) praise you for having once in your lifehad a righteous intention; I return you thanks for not having revealedthe matter; and I excuse you for not having accomplished your purpose. That exploit required a man. 

And if any one should institute a prosecution against you, and employthat test of old Cassius, "who reaped any advantage from it?" takecare, I advise you, lest you suit that description. Although, intruth, that action was, as you used to say, an advantage to every onewho was not willing to be a slave, still it was so to you above allmen, who are not merely not a slave, but are actually a king; whodelivered yourself from an enormous burden of debt at the temple ofOps; who, by your dealings with the account books, there squandered acountless sum of money; who have had such vast treasures brought toyou from Caesar's house; at whose own house there is set up a mostlucrative manufactory of false memoranda and autographs, and a mostiniquitous market of lands, and towns, and exemptions, and revenues. In truth, what measure except the death of Caesar could possibly havebeen any relief to your indigent and insolvent condition? You appearto be somewhat agitated. Have you any secret fear that you yourselfmay appear to have had some connexion with that crime? I will releaseyou from all apprehension; no one will ever believe it; it is not likeyou to deserve well of the republic; the most illustrious men in therepublic are the authors of that exploit; I only say that you are gladit was done; I do not accuse you of having done it. I have replied toyour heaviest accusations, I must now also reply to the rest of them. 

XV. You have thrown in my teeth the camp of Pompeius and all myconduct at that time. At which time, indeed, if, as I have saidbefore, my counsels and my authority had prevailed, you would this daybe in indigence, we should be free, and the republic would not havelost so many generals and so many armies. For I confess that, when Isaw that these things certainly would happen, which now have happened, I was as greatly grieved as all the other virtuous citizens would havebeen if they had foreseen the same things. I did grieve, I did grieve, O conscript fathers, that the republic which had once been saved byyour counsels and mine, was fated to perish in a short time. Nor wasI so inexperienced in and ignorant of this nature of things, as to bedisheartened on account of a fondness for life, which while it enduredwould wear me out with anguish, and when brought to an end wouldrelease me from all trouble. But I was desirous that those mostillustrious men, the lights of the republic, should live: so manymen of consular rank, so many men of praetorian rank, so many mosthonourable senators; and besides them all the flower of our nobilityand of our youth; and the armies of excellent citizens. And if theywere still alive, under ever such hard conditions of peace, (for anysort of peace with our fellow-citizens appeared to me more desirablethan civil war, ) we should be still this day enjoying the republic. 

And if my opinion had prevailed, and if those men, the preservation ofwhose lives was my main object, elated with the hope of victory, hadnot been my chief opposers, to say nothing of other results, at allevents you would never have continued in this order, or rather in thiscity. But say you, my speech alienated from me the regard of Pompeius?Was there any one to whom he was more attached? any one with whom heconversed or shared his counsels more frequently? It was, indeed, a great thing that we, differing as we did respecting the generalinterests of the republic, should continue in uninterruptedfriendship. But I saw clearly what his opinions and views were, and hesaw mine equally. I was for providing for the safety of the citizensin the first place, in order that we might be able to consult theirdignity afterwards. He thought more of consulting their existingdignity. But because each of us had a definite object to pursue, ourdisagreement was the more endurable. But what that extraordinary andalmost godlike man thought of me is known to those men who pursued himto Paphos from the battle of Pharsalia. No mention of me was ever madeby him that was not the most honourable that could be, that was notfull of the most friendly regret for me; while he confessed that I hadhad the most foresight, but that he had had more sanguine hopes. Anddo you dare taunt me with the name of that man whose friend you admitthat I was, and whose assassin you confess yourself?

XVI. However, let us say no more of that war, in which you were toofortunate. I will not reply even with those jests to which you havesaid that I gave utterance in the camp. That camp was in truth full ofanxiety, but although men are in great difficulties, still, providedthey are men, they sometimes relax their minds. But the fact that thesame man finds fault with my melancholy, and also with my jokes, is agreat proof that I was very moderate in each particular. 

You have said that no inheritances come to me. Would that thisaccusation of yours were a true one; I should have more of my friendsand connexions alive. But how could such a charge ever come into yourhead? For I have received more than twenty millions of sesterces ininheritances. Although in this particular I admit that you have beenmore fortunate than I. No one has ever made me his heir except he wasa friend of mine, in order that my grief of mind for his loss might beaccompanied also with some gain, if it was to be considered as such. But a man whom you never even saw, Lucius Rubrius, of Casinum, madeyou his heir. And see now how much he loved you, who, though he didnot know whether you were white or black, passed over the son of hisbrother, Quintus Fufius, a most honourable Roman knight, and mostattached to him, whom he had on all occasions openly declared hisheir, (he never even names him in his will, ) and he makes you his heirwhom he had never seen, or at all events had never spoken to. 

I wish you would tell me, if it is not too much trouble, what sort ofcountenance Lucius Turselius was of; what sort of height; from whatmunicipal town he came; and of what tribe he was a member. "I knownothing, " you will say, "about him, except what farms he had. "Therefore, he, disinheriting his brother, made you his heir. Andbesides these instances, this man has seized on much other propertybelonging to men wholly unconnected with him, to the exclusion of thelegitimate heirs, as if he himself were the heir. Although the thingthat struck me with most astonishment of all was, that you shouldventure to make mention of inheritances, when you yourself had notreceived the inheritance of your own father. 

XVII. And was it in order to collect all these arguments, O youmost senseless of men, that you spent so many days in practisingdeclamation in another man's villa? Although, indeed, (as your mostintimate friends usually say, ) you are in the habit of declaiming, not for the purpose of whetting your genius, but of working off theeffects of wine. And, indeed, you employ a master to teach you jokes, a man appointed by your own vote and that of your boon companions; arhetorician, whom you have allowed to say what ever he pleased againstyou, a thoroughly facetious gentleman; but there are plenty ofmaterials for speaking against you and against your friends. But justsee now what a difference there is between you and your grandfather. He used with great deliberation to bring forth arguments advantageousto the cause he was advocating; you pour forth in a hurry thesentiments which you have been taught by another. And what wages haveyou paid this rhetorician? Listen, listen, O conscript fathers, and learn the blows which are inflicted on the republic. You haveassigned, O Antonius, two thousand acres[14] which is often translatedacre also, of land, in the Leontine district, to Sextus Clodius, therhetorician, and those, too, exempt from every kind of tax, for thesake of putting the Roman people to such a vast expense that you mightlearn to be a fool. Was this gift, too, O you most audacious of men, found among Caesar's papers? But I will take another opportunity tospeak about the Leontine and the Campanian district; where he hasstolen lands from the republic to pollute them with most infamousowners. For now, since I have sufficiently replied to all his charges, I must say a little about our corrector and censor himself. And yet Iwill not say all I could, in order that if I have often to battlewith him I may always come to the contest with fresh arms; and themultitude of his vices and atrocities will easily enable me to do so. 

XVIII. Shall we then examine your conduct from the time when you werea boy? I think so. Let us begin at the beginning. Do you recollectthat, while you were still clad in the praetexta, you became abankrupt? That was the fault of your father, you will say. I admitthat. In truth, such a defence is full of filial affection. But itis peculiarly suited to your own audacity, that you sat among thefourteen rows of the knights, though by the Roscian law there was aplace appointed for bankrupts, even if any one had become so. 

XIX. But let us say no more of your profligacy and debauchery. Thereare things which it is not possible for me to mention with honour; butyou are all the more free for that, inasmuch as you have not scrupledto be an actor in scenes which a modest enemy cannot bring himself tomention. 

Mark now, O conscript fathers, the rest of his life, which I willtouch upon rapidly. For my inclination hastens to arrive at thosethings which he did in the time of the civil war, amid the greatestmiseries of the republic, and at those things which he does every day. And I beg of you, though they are far better known to you than theyare to me, still to listen attentively, as you are doing, to myrelation of them. For in such cases as this, it is not the mereknowledge of such actions that ought to excite the mind, but therecollection of them also. Although we must at once go into the middleof them, lest otherwise we should be too long in coming to the end. 

He was very intimate with Clodius at the time of his tribuneship;he, who now enumerates the kindnesses which he did me. He was thefirebrand to handle all conflagrations; and even in his house heattempted something. He himself well knows what I allude to. Fromthence he made a journey to Alexandria, in defiance of the authorityof the senate, and against the interests of the republic, and in spiteof religious obstacles; but he had Gabinius for his leader, with whomwhatever he did was sure to be right. What were the circumstances ofhis return from thence? what sort of return was it? He went from Egyptto the furthest extremity of Gaul before he returned home. And whatwas his home? For at that time every man had possession of his ownhouse; and you had no house anywhere, O Antonius. House, do you say?what place was there in the whole world where you could set your footon anything that belonged to you, except Mienum, which you farmed withyour partners, as if it had been Sisapo?[15]

XX. You came from Gaul to stand for the quaestorship. Dare to say thatyou went to your own father before you came to me. I had alreadyreceived Caesar's letters, begging me to allow myself to accept of yourexcuses; and therefore, I did not allow you even to mention thanks. After that, I was treated with respect by you, and you receivedattentions from me in your canvass for the quaestorship. And it was atthat time, indeed, that you endeavoured to slay Publius Clodius in theforum, with the approbation of the Roman people; and though you madethe attempt of your own accord, and not at my instigation, still youclearly alleged that you did not think, unless you slew him, that youcould possibly make amends to me for all the injuries which you haddone me. And this makes me wonder why you should say that Milo didthat deed at my instigation; when I never once exhorted you to do it, who of your own accord attempted to do me the same service. Although, if you had persisted in it, I should have preferred allowing theaction to be set down entirely to your own love of glory rather thanto my influence. 

You were elected quaestor. On this, immediately, without any resolutionof the senate authorizing such a step, without drawing lots, withoutprocuring any law to be passed, you hastened to Caesar. For you thoughtthe camp the only refuge on earth for indigence, and debt, andprofligacy, --for all men, in short, who were in a state of utter ruin. Then, when you had recruited your resources again by his largesses andyour own robberies, (if, indeed, a person can be said to recruit, who only acquires something which he may immediately squander, ) youhastened, being again a beggar, to the tribuneship, in order that inthat magistracy you might, if possible, behave like your friend. 

XXI. Listen now, I beseech you, O conscript fathers, not to thosethings which he did indecently and profligately to his own injury andto his own disgrace as a private individual; but to the actions whichhe did impiously and wickedly against us and our fortunes, --that is tosay, against the whole republic. For it is from his wickedness thatyou will find that the beginning of all these evils has arisen. 

For when, in the consulship of Lucius Lentulus and Marcus Marcellus, you, on the first of January, were anxious to prop up the republic, which was tottering and almost falling, and were willing to consultthe interests of Caius Caesar himself, if he would have acted likea man in his senses, then this fellow opposed to your counsels histribuneship, which he had sold and handed over to the purchaser, andexposed his own neck to that axe under which many have suffered forsmaller crimes. It was against you, O Marcus Antonius, that thesenate, while still in the possession of its rights, before so manyof its luminaries were extinguished, passed that decree which, inaccordance with the usage of our ancestors, is at times passed againstan enemy who is a citizen. And have you dared, before these conscriptfathers, to say anything against me, when I have been pronounced bythis order to be the saviour of my country, and when you have beendeclared by it to be an enemy of the republic? The mention of thatwickedness of yours has been interrupted, but the recollection of ithas not been effaced. As long as the race of men, as long as the nameof the Roman people shall exist, (and that, unless it is preventedfrom being so by your means, will be everlasting, ) so long will thatmost mischievous interposition of your veto be spoken of. What wasthere that was being done by the senate either ambitiously or rashly, when you, one single young man, forbade the whole order to passdecrees concerning the safety of the republic? and when you did so, not once only, but repeatedly? nor would you allow any one to pleadwith you in behalf of the authority of the senate; and yet, what didany one entreat of you, except that you would not desire the republicto be entirely overthrown and destroyed; when neither the chief men ofthe state by their entreaties, nor the elders by their warnings, northe senate in a full house by pleading with you, could move you fromthe determination which you had already sold and as it were deliveredto the purchaser? Then it was, after having tried many otherexpedients previously, that a blow was of necessity struck at youwhich had been struck at only few men before you, and which none ofthem had ever survived. Then it was that this order armed the consuls, and the rest of the magistrates who were invested with either militaryor civil command, against you, and you never would have escaped them, if you had not taken refuge in the camp of Caesar. 

XXII. It was you, you, I say, O Marcus Antonius, who gave Caius Caesar, desirous as he already was to throw everything into confusion, theprincipal pretext for waging war against his country. For what otherpretence did he allege? what cause did he give for his own mostfrantic resolution and action, except that the power of interpositionby the veto had been disregarded, the privileges of the tribunes takenaway, and Antonius's rights abridged by the senate? I say nothing ofhow false, how trivial these pretences were; especially when therecould not possibly be any reasonable cause whatever to justify any onein taking up arms against his country. But I have nothing to do withCaesar. You must unquestionably allow, that the cause of that ruinouswar existed in your person. 

O miserable man if you are aware, more miserable still if you are notaware, that this is recorded in writings, is handed down to men'srecollection, that our very latest posterity in the most distant ageswill never forget this fact, that the consuls were expelled fromItaly, and with them Cnaeus Pompeius, who was the glory and light ofthe empire of the Roman people; that all the men of consular rank, whose health would allow them to share in that disaster and thatflight, and the praetors, and men of praetorian rank, and the tribunesof the people, and a great part of the senate, and all the flower ofthe youth of the city, and, in a word, the republic itself was drivenout and expelled from its abode. As, then, there is in seeds the causewhich produces trees and plants, so of this most lamentable war youwere the seed. Do you, O conscript fathers, grieve that these armiesof the Roman people have been slain? It is Antonius who slew them. Doyou regret your most illustrious citizens? It is Antonius, again, whohas deprived you of them. The authority of this order is overthrown;it is Antonius who has overthrown it. Everything, in short, which wehave seen since that time, (and what misfortune is there that wehave not seen?) we shall, if we argue rightly, attribute wholly toAntonius. As Helen was to the Trojans, so has that man been to thisrepublic, --the cause of war, the cause of mischief, the cause of ruin. The rest of his tribuneship was like the beginning. He did everythingwhich the senate had laboured to prevent, as being impossible to bedone consistently with the safety of the republic. And see, now, howgratuitously wicked he was even in accomplishing his wickedness. 

XXIII. He restored many men who had fallen under misfortune. Amongthem no mention was made of his uncle. If he was severe, why was henot so to every one? If he was merciful, why was he not merciful tohis own relations? But I say nothing of the rest. He restored LiciniusLenticula, a man who had been condemned for gambling, and who was afellow-gamester of his own. As if he could not play with a condemnedman; but in reality, in order to pay by a straining of the law in hisfavour, what he had lost by the dice. What reason did you allege tothe Roman people why it was desirable that he should be restored?I suppose you said that he was absent when the prosecution wasinstituted against him; that the cause was decided without his havingbeen heard in his defence; that there was not by a law any judicialproceeding established with reference to gambling; that he had beenput down by violence or by arms; or lastly, as was said in the case ofyour uncle, that the tribunal had been bribed with money. Nothing ofthis sort was said. Then he was a good man, and one worthy of therepublic. That, indeed, would have been nothing to the purpose, butstill, since being condemned does not go for much, I would forgive youif that were the truth. Does not he restore to the full possession ofhis former privileges the most worthless man possible, --one who wouldnot hesitate to play at dice even in the forum, and who had beenconvicted under the law which exists respecting gambling, --does not hedeclare in the most open manner his own propensities?

Then in this same tribuneship, when Caesar while on his way into Spainhad given him Italy to trample on, what journeys did he make in everydirection! how did he visit the municipal towns! I know that I amonly speaking of matters which have been discussed in every one'sconversation, and that the things which I am saying and am going tosay are better known to every one who was in Italy at that time, thanto me, who was not. Still I mention the particulars of his conduct, although my speech cannot possibly come up to your own personalknowledge. When was such wickedness ever heard of as existing uponearth? or such shamelessness? or such open infamy?

XXIV. The tribune of the people was borne along in a chariot, lictorscrowned with laurel preceded him; among whom, on an open litter, wascarried an actress; whom honourable men, citizens of the differentmunicipalities, coming out from their towns under compulsion to meethim, saluted not by the name by which she was well known on the stage, but by that of Volumnia. [16] A car followed full of pimps; then alot of debauched companions; and then his mother, utterly neglected, followed the mistress of her profligate son, as if she had been herdaughter-in-law. O the disastrous fecundity of that miserable woman!With the marks of such wickedness as this did that fellow stamp everymunicipality, and prefecture, and colony, and, in short, the whole ofItaly. 

To find fault with the rest of his actions, O conscript fathers, isdifficult, and somewhat unsafe. He was occupied in war; he gluttedhimself with the slaughter of citizens who bore no resemblance tohimself. He was fortunate--if at least there can be any good fortunein wickedness. But since we wish to show a regard for the veterans, although the cause of the soldiers is very different from yours; theyfollowed their chief; you went to seek for a leader; still, (that Imay not give you any pretence for stirring up odium against me amongthem, ) I will say nothing of the nature of the war. 

When victorious, you returned with the legions from Thessaly toBrundusium. There you did not put me to death. It was a greatkindness! For I confess that you could have done it. Although therewas no one of those men who were with you at that time, who did notthink that I ought to be spared. For so great is men's affection fortheir country, that I was sacred even in the eyes of your legions, because they recollected that the country had been saved by me. However, grant that you did give me what you did not take away fromme; and that I have my life as a present from you, since it was nottaken from me by you; was it possible for me, after all your insults, to regard that kindness of yours as I regarded it at first, especiallyafter you saw that you must hear this reply from me?

XXV. You came to Brundusium, to the bosom and embraces of youractress. What is the matter? Am I speaking falsely? How miserable isit not to be able to deny a fact which it is disgraceful to confess!If you had no shame before the municipal towns, had you none evenbefore your veteran army? For what soldier was there who did not seeher at Brundusium? who was there who did not know that she had comeso many days' journey to congratulate you? who was there who did notgrieve that he was so late in finding out how worthless a man he hadbeen following?

Again you made a tour through Italy, with that same actress for yourcompanion. Cruel and miserable was the way in which you led yoursoldiers into the towns; shameful was the pillage in every city, ofgold and silver, and above all, of wine. And besides all this, whileCaesar knew nothing about it, as he was at Alexandria, Antonius, by thekindness of Caesar's friends, was appointed his master of the horse. Then he thought that he could live with Hippia[17] by virtue of hisoffice, and that he might give horses which were the property of thestate to Sergius the buffoon. At that time he had selected for himselfto live in, not the house which he now dishonours, but that of MarcusPiso. Why need I mention his decrees, his robberies, the possessionsof inheritances which were given him, and those too which were seizedby him? Want compelled him; he did not know where to turn. That greatinheritance from Lucius Rubrius, and that other from Lucius Turselius, had not yet come to him. He had not yet succeeded as an unexpectedheir to the place of Cnaeus Pompeius, and of many others who wereabsent. He was forced to live like a robber, having nothing beyondwhat he could plunder from others. 

However, we will say nothing of these things, which are acts of a morehardy sort of villany. Let us speak rather of his meaner descriptionsof worthlessness. You, with those jaws of yours, and those sides ofyours, and that strength of body suited to a gladiator, drank suchquantities of wine at the marriage of Hippia, that you were forcedto vomit the next day in the sight of the Roman people. O actiondisgraceful not merely to see, but even to hear of! If this hadhappened to you at supper amid those vast drinking cups of yours, whowould not have thought it scandalous? But in an assembly of the Romanpeople, a man holding a public office, a master of the horse, to whomit would have been disgraceful even to belch, vomiting filled his ownbosom and the whole tribunal with fragments of what he had been eatingreeking with wine. But he himself confesses this among his otherdisgraceful acts. Let us proceed to his more splendid offences. 

XXVI. Caesar came back from Alexandria, fortunate, as he seemed atleast to himself; but in my opinion no one can be fortunate who isunfortunate for the republic. The spear was set up in front ofthe temple of Jupiter Stator, and the property of Cnaeus PompeiusMagnus--(miserable that I am, for even now that my tears have ceasedto flow, my grief remains deeply implanted in my heart, )--theproperty, I say, of Cnaeus Pompeius the Great was submitted to thepitiless, voice of the auctioneer. On that one occasion the stateforgot its slavery, and groaned aloud, and though men's minds wereenslaved, as everything was kept under by fear, still the groans ofthe Roman people were free. While all men were waiting to see whowould be so impious, who would be so mad, who would be so declared anenemy to gods and to men as to dare to mix himself up with that wickedauction, no one was found except Antonius, even though there wereplenty of men collected round that spear[18] who would have daredanything else. One man alone was found to dare to do that which theaudacity of every one else had shrunk from and shuddered at. Were you, then, seized with such stupidity, --or, I should rather say, with suchinsanity, --as not to see that if you, being of the rank in which youwere born, acted as a broker at all, and above all as a broker in thecase of Pompeius's property, you would be execrated and hated by theRoman people, and that all gods and all men must at once become andfor ever continue hostile to you? But with what violence did thatglutton immediately proceed to take possession of the property of thatman, to whose valour it had been owing that the Roman people had beenmore terrible to foreign nations, while his justice had made it dearerto them. 

XXVII. When, therefore, this fellow had begun to wallow in thetreasures of that great man, he began to exult like a buffoon in aplay, who has lately been a beggar, and has become suddenly rich. But, as some poet or other says, --

 "Ill gotten gain comes quickly to an end. "

It is an incredible thing, and almost a miracle, how he in a few, not months, but days, squandered all that vast wealth. There was animmense quantity of wine, an excessive abundance of very valuableplate, much precious apparel, great quantities of splendid furniture, and other magnificent things in many places, such as one waslikely to see belonging to a man who was not indeed luxurious, but who was very wealthy. Of all this in a few days there wasnothing left. What Charybdis was ever so voracious? Charybdis, do I say? Charybdis, if she existed at all, was only one animal. The ocean, I swear most solemnly, appears scarcely capable ofhaving swallowed up such numbers of things so widely scattered, anddistributed in such different places, with such rapidity. Nothingwas shut up, nothing sealed up, no list was made of anything. Wholestorehouses were abandoned to the most worthless of men. Actors seizedon this, actresses on that, the house was crowded with gamblers, andfull of drunken men, people were drinking all day, and that too inmany places, there were added to all this expense (for this fellow wasnot invariably fortunate) heavy gambling losses. You might see inthe cellars of the slaves, couches covered with the most richlyembroidered counterpanes of Cnaeus Pompeius. Wonder not, then, that allthese things were so soon consumed. Such profligacy as that could havedevoured not only the patrimony of one individual, however ample itmight have been, (as indeed his was) but whole cities and kingdoms. 

And then his houses and gardens! Oh the cruel audacity! Did you dareto enter into that house? Did you dare to cross that most sacredthreshold? and to show your most profligate countenance to thehousehold gods who protect that abode? A house which for a long timeno one could behold, no one could pass by without tears! Are you notashamed to dwell so long in that house? one in which, stupid andignorant as you are, still you can see nothing which is not painful toyou. 

XXVIII. When you behold those beaks of ships in the vestibule, andthose warlike trophies, do you fancy that you are entering into ahouse which belongs to you? It is impossible. Although you are devoidof all sense and all feeling, --as in truth you are, --still you areacquainted with yourself, and with your trophies, and with yourfriends. Nor do I believe that you either waking or sleeping, can everact with quiet sense. It is impossible but that, were you ever sodrunk and frantic, --as in truth you are, --when the recollection of theappearance of that illustrious man comes across you, you should beroused from sleep by your fears, and often stirred up to madness ifawake. I pity even the walls and the roof. For what had that houseever beheld except what was modest, except what proceeded from thepurest principles and from the most virtuous practice? For that manwas, O conscript fathers, as you yourselves know, not only illustriousabroad, but also admirable at home; and not more praiseworthy for hisexploits in foreign countries, than for his domestic arrangements. Nowin his house every bedchamber is a brothel, and every dining-room acookshop. Although he denies this:--Do not, do not make inquiries. He is become economical. He desired that mistress of his to takepossession of whatever belonged to her, according to the laws of theTwelve Tables. He has taken his keys from her, and turned her out ofdoors. What a well-tried citizen! of what proved virtue is he! themost honourable passage in whose life is the one when he divorcedhimself from this actress. 

But how constantly does he harp on the expression "the consulAntonius!" This amounts to say "that most debauched consul, " "thatmost worthless of men, the consul. " For what else is Antonius? Forif any dignity were implied in the name, then, I imagine, yourgrandfather would sometimes have called himself "the consul Antonius. "But he never did. My colleague too, your own uncle, would have calledhimself so. Unless you are the only Antonius. But I pass over thoseoffences which have no peculiar connexion with the part you tookin harassing the republic; I return to that in which you bore soprincipal a share, --that is, to the civil war; and it is mainly owingto you that that was originated, and brought to a head, and carriedon. 

XXIX. Though you yourself took no personal share in it, partly throughtimidity, partly through profligacy, you had tasted, or rather hadsucked in, the blood of fellow-citizens: you had been in the battleof Pharsalia as a leader; you had slain Lucius Domitius, a mostillustrious and high-born man; you had pursued and put to death in themost barbarous manner many men who had escaped from the battle, andwhom Caesar would perhaps have saved, as he did some others. 

And after having performed these exploits, what was the reason why youdid not follow Caesar into Africa; especially when so large a portionof the war was still remaining? And accordingly, what place did youobtain about Caesar's person after his return from Africa? What wasyour rank? He whose quaestor you had been when general, whose master ofthe horse when he was dictator, to whom you had been the chief causeof war, the chief instigator of cruelty, the sharer of his plunder, his son, as you yourself said, by inheritance, proceeded against youfor the money which you owed for the house and gardens, and forthe other property which you had bought at that sale. At first youanswered fiercely enough, and that I may not appear prejudiced againstyou in every particular, you used a tolerably just and reasonableargument. "What, does Caius Caesar demand money of me? why should he doso, any more than I should claim it of him? Was he victorious withoutmy assistance? No, and he never could have been. It was I who suppliedhim with a pretext for civil war, it was I who proposed mischievouslaws, it was I who took up arms against the consuls and generals ofthe Roman people, against the senate and people of Rome, against thegods of the country, against its altars and healths, against thecountry itself. Has he conquered for himself alone? Why should notthose men whose common work the achievement is, have the booty also incommon?" You were only claiming your right, but what had that to dowith it? He was the more powerful of the two. 

Therefore, stopping all your expostulations, he sent his soldiers toyou, and to your sureties, when all on a sudden out came that splendidcatalogue of yours. How men did laugh! That there should be so vast acatalogue, that their should be such a numerous and various list ofpossessions, of all of which, with the exception of a portion ofMisenum, there was nothing which the man who was putting them up tosale could call his own. And what a miserable sight was the auction. Alittle apparel of Pompeius's, and that stained, a few silver vesselsbelonging to the same man, all battered, some slaves in wretchedcondition, so that we grieved that there was anything remaining to beseen of these miserable relics. This auction, however, the heirs ofLucius Rubrius prevented from proceeding, being armed with a decree ofCaesar to that effect. The spendthrift was embarrassed. He did not knowwhich way to turn. It was at this very time that an assassin sentby him was said to have been detected with a dagger in the house ofCaesar. And of this Caesar himself complained in the senate, inveighingopenly against you. Caesar departs to Spain, having granted you a fewdays delay for making the payment, on account of your poverty. Eventhen you do not follow him. Had so good a gladiator as you retiredfrom business so early? Can any one then fear a man who was as timidas this man in upholding his party, that is, in upholding his ownfortunes?

XXX. After some time he at last went into Spain; but, as he says, hecould not arrive there in safety. How then did Dolabella manage toarrive there? Either, O Antonius, that cause ought never to havebeen undertaken, or when you had undertaken it, it should havebeen maintained to the end. Thrice did Caesar fight against hisfellow-citizens; in Thessaly, in Africa, and in Spain. Dolabella waspresent at all these battles. In the battle in Spain he even receiveda wound. If you ask my opinion, I wish he had not been there. Butstill, if his design at first was blameable, his consistency andfirmness were praiseworthy. But what shall we say of you? In the firstplace, the children of Cnaeus Pompeius sought to be restored to theircountry. Well, this concerned the common interests of the whole party. Besides that, they sought to recover their household gods, the gods oftheir country, their altars, their hearths, the tutelar gods of theirfamily; all of which you had seized upon. And when they sought torecover those things by force of arms which belonged to them by thelaws, who was it most natural--(although in unjust and unnaturalproceedings what can there be that is natural?)--still, who was itmost natural to expect would fight against the children of CnaeusPompeius? Who? Why, you who had bought their property. Were you atNarbo to be sick over the tables of your entertainers, while Dolabellawas fighting your battles in Spain?

And what a return was that of yours from Narbo? He even asked whyI had returned so suddenly from my expedition. I have just brieflyexplained to you, O conscript fathers, the reason of my return. I wasdesirous, if I could, to be of service to the republic even before thefirst of January. For, as to your question, how I had returned; in thefirst place, I returned by daylight, not in the dark; in the secondplace, I returned in shoes, and in my Roman gown, not in any Gallicslippers, or barbarian mantle. And even now you keep looking at me;and, as it seems, with great anger. Surely you would be reconciledto me if you knew how ashamed I am of your worthlessness, which youyourself are not ashamed of. Of all the profligate conduct of all theworld, I never saw, I never heard of any more shameful than yours. Youwho fancied yourself a master of the horse, when you were standingfor, or I should rather say begging for the consulship for theensuing year, ran in Gallic slippers and a barbarian mantle about themunicipal towns and colonies of Gaul from which we used to demand theconsulship when the consulship was stood for and not begged for. 

XXXI. But mark now the trifling character of the fellow. When aboutthe tenth hour of the day he had arrived at Red Rocks, he skulked intoa little petty wine-shop, and, hiding there, kept on drinking tillevening. And from thence getting into a gig and being driven rapidlyto the city, he came to his own house with his head veiled. "Who areyou?" says the porter. "An express from Marcus. " He is at once takento the woman for whose sake he had come; and he delivered the letterto her. And when she had read it with tears, (for it was written ina very amorous style, but the main subject of the letter was that hewould have nothing to do with that actress for the future; that hehad discarded all his love for her, and transferred it to hiscorrespondent, ) when she, I say, wept plentifully, this soft-heartedman could bear it no longer; he uncovered his head and threw himselfon her neck. Oh the worthless man! (for what else can I call him?there is no more suitable expression for me to use, ) was it for thisthat you disturbed the city by nocturnal alarms, and Italy withfears of many days' duration, in order that you might show yourselfunexpectedly, and that a woman might see you before she hoped to doso? And he had at home a pretence of love; but out of doors a causemore discreditable still, namely, lest Lucius Plancus should sell uphis sureties. But after you had been produced in the assembly by oneof the tribunes of the people, and had replied that you had come onyour own private business, you made even the people full of jokesagainst you. But, however, we have said too much about trifles. Let uscome to more important subjects. 

XXXII. You went a great distance to meet Caesar on his return fromSpain. You went rapidly, you returned rapidly in order that we mightsee that, if you were not brave, you were at least active. You againbecame intimate with him; I am sure I do not know how. Caesar had thispeculiar characteristic; whoever he knew to be utterly ruined by debt, and needy, even if he knew him also to be an audacious and worthlessman, he willingly admitted him to his intimacy. You then, beingadmirably recommended to him by these circumstances, were ordered tobe appointed consul, and that too as his own colleague. I do not makeany complaint against Dolabella, who was at that time acting undercompulsion, and was cajoled and deceived. But who is there who doesnot know with what great perfidy both of you treated Dolabella in thatbusiness? Caesar induced him to stand for the consulship. After havingpromised it to him, and pledged himself to aid him, he preventedhis getting it, and transferred it to himself. And you endorsed histreachery with your own eagerness. 

The first of January arrives. We are convened in the senate. Dolabellainveighed against him with much more fluency and premeditation than Iam doing now. And what things were they which he said in his anger, Oye good gods! First of all, after Caesar had declared that before hedeparted he would order Dolabella to be made consul, (and they denythat he was a king who was always doing and saying something of thissort, )--but after Caesar had said this, then this virtuous augur saidthat he was invested with a pontificate of that sort that he was able, by means of the auspices, either to hinder or to vitiate the comitia, just as he pleased; and he declared that he would do so. And here, inthe first place, remark the incredible stupidity of the man. For whatdo you mean? Could you not just as well have done what you said youhad now the power to do by the privileges with which that pontificatehad invested you, even if you were not an augur, if you were consul?Perhaps you could even do it more easily. For we augurs have only thepower of announcing that the auspices are being observed, but theconsuls and other magistrates have the right also of observing themwhenever they choose. Be it so. You said this out of ignorance. Forone must not demand prudence from a man who is never sober. But stillremark his impudence. Many months before, he said in the senate thathe would either prevent the comitia from assembling for the electionof Dolabella by means of the auspices, or that he would do what heactually did do. Can any one divine beforehand what defect there willbe in the auspices, except the man who has already determined toobserve the heavens? which in the first place it is forbidden by lawto do at the time of the comitia. And if any one has been observingthe heavens, he is bound to give notice of it, not after the comitiaare assembled, but before they are held. But this man's ignorance isjoined to impudence, nor does he know what an augur ought to know, nordo what a modest man ought to do. And just recollect the whole of hisconduct during his consulship from that day up to the ides of March. What lictor was ever so humble, so abject? He himself had no power atall; he begged everything of others; and thrusting his head into thehind part of his litter, he begged favours of his colleagues, to sellthem himself afterwards. 

XXXIII. Behold, the day of the comitia for the election of Dolabellaarrives. The prerogative century draws its lot. He is quiet. The voteis declared; he is still silent. The first class is called. [19]Its vote is declared. Then, as is the usual course, the votes areannounced. Then the second class. And all this is done faster than Ihave told it. When the business is over, that excellent augur (youwould say he must be Caius Laelius, ) says, --"We adjourn it to anotherday. " Oh the monstrous impudence of such a proceeding! What had youseen? what had you perceived? what had you heard? For you did not saythat you had been observing the heavens, and indeed you do not sayso this day. That defect then has arisen, which you on the first ofJanuary had already foreseen would arise, and which you had predictedso long before. Therefore, in truth, you have made a false declarationrespecting the auspices, to your own great misfortune, I hope, ratherthan to that of the republic. You laid the Roman people under theobligations of religion; you as augur interrupted an augur; you asconsul interrupted a consul by a false declaration concerning theauspices. 

I will say no more, lest I should seem to be pulling to pieces theacts of Dolabella; which must inevitably sometime or other bebrought before our college. But take notice of the arroganceand insolence of the fellow. As long as you please, Dolabellais a consul irregularly elected; again, while you please, he is a consul elected with all proper regard to the auspices. If itmeans nothing when an augur gives this notice in those words in whichyou gave notice, then confess that you, when you said, --"We adjournthis to another day, " were not sober. But if those words have anymeaning, then I, an augur, demand of my colleague to know what thatmeaning is. 

But lest by any chance, while enumerating his numerous exploits, ourspeech should pass over the finest action of Marcus Antonius, let uscome to the Lupercalia. 

XXXIV. He does not dissemble, O conscript fathers; it is plain that heis agitated; he perspires; he turns pale. Let him do what he pleases, provided he is not sick, and does not behave as he did in the Minuciancolonnade. What defence can be made for such beastly behaviour? Iwish to hear, that I may see the fruit of those high wages of thatrhetorician, of that land given in Leontini. Your colleague wassitting in the rostra, clothed in purple robe, on a golden chair, wearing a crown. You mount the steps; you approach his chair; (if youwere a priest of Pan, you ought to have recollected that you wereconsul too;) you display a diadem. There is a groan over the wholeforum. Where did the diadem come from? For you had not picked it upwhen lying on the ground, but you had brought it from home with you, a premeditated and deliberately planned wickedness. You placed thediadem on his head amid the groans of the people; he rejected it amidgreat applause. You then alone, O wicked man, were found, both toadvise the assumption of kingly power, and to wish to have him foryour master who was your colleague; and also to try what the Romanpeople might be able to bear and to endure. Moreover, you even soughtto move his pity; you threw yourself at his feet as a suppliant;begging for what? to be a slave? You might beg it for yourself, whenyou had lived in such a way from the time that you were a boy that youcould bear everything, and would find no difficulty in being a slave;but certainly you had no commission from the Roman people to try forsuch a thing for them. 

Oh how splendid was that eloquence of yours, when you harangued thepeople stark naked! What could be more foul than this? more shamefulthan this? more deserving of every sort of punishment? Are you waitingfor me to prick you more? This that I am saying must tear you andbring blood enough if you have any feeling at all. I am afraid that Imay be detracting from the glory of some most eminent men. Still myindignation shall find a voice. What can be more scandalous than forthat man to live who placed a diadem on a man's head, when every oneconfesses that that man was deservedly slain who rejected it? And, moreover, he caused it to be recorded in the annals, under the headof Lupercalia, "That Marcus Antonius, the consul, by command of thepeople, had offered the kingdom to Caius Caesar, perpetual dictator;and that Caesar had refused to accept it. " I now am not much surprisedat your seeking to disturb the general tranquillity; at your hatingnot only the city but the light of day; and at your living with a packof abandoned robbers, disregarding the day, and yet regarding nothingbeyond the day. [20] For where can you be safe in peace? What place canthere be for you where laws and courts of justice have sway, both ofwhich you, as far as in you lay, destroyed by the substitution ofkingly power? Was it for this that Lucius Tarquinius was driven out;that Spurius Cassius, and Spurius Maelius, and Marcus Manlius wereslain; that many years afterwards a king might be established at Romeby Marcus Antonius, though the bare idea was impiety? However, let usreturn to the auspices. 

XXXV. With respect to all the things which Caesar was intending todo in the senate on the ides of March, I ask whether you have doneanything? I heard, indeed, that you had come down prepared, becauseyou thought that I intended to speak about your having made a falsestatement respecting the auspices, though it was still necessary forus to respect them. The fortune of the Roman people saved us from thatday. Did the death of Caesar also put an end to your opinion respectingthe auspices? But I have come to mention that occasion which mustbe allowed to precede those matters which I had begun to discuss. What a flight was that of yours! What alarm was yours on thatmemorable day! How, from the consciousness of your wickedness, did you despair of your life! How, while flying, were you enabledsecretly to get home by the kindness of those men who wishedto save you, thinking you would show more sense than you do! Ohow vain have at all times been my too true predictions of the future!I told those deliverers of ours in the Capitol, when they wished me togo to you to exhort you to defend the republic, that as long as youwere in fear you would promise everything, but that as soon as youhad emancipated yourself from alarm you would be yourself again. Therefore, while the rest of the men of consular rank were goingbackwards and forwards to you, I adhered to my opinion, nor did I seeyou at all that day, or the next; nor did I think it possible for analliance between virtuous citizens and a most unprincipled enemy to bemade, so as to last, by any treaty or engagement whatever. The thirdday I came into the temple of Tellus, even then very much against mywill, as armed men were blockading all the approaches. What a day wasthat for you, O Marcus Antonius! Although you showed yourself all on asudden an enemy to me; still I pity you for having envied yourself. 

XXXVI. What a man, O ye immortal gods! and how great a man mightyou have been, if you had been able to preserve the inclination youdisplayed that day;--we should still have peace which was made then bythe pledge of a hostage, a boy of noble birth, the grandson of MarcusBambalio. Although it was fear that was then making you a goodcitizen, which is never a lasting teacher of duty; your own audacity, which never departs from you as long as you are free from fear, hasmade you a worthless one. Although even at that time, when theythought you an excellent man, though I indeed differed from thatopinion, you behaved with the greatest wickedness while presiding atthe funeral of the tyrant, if that ought to be called a funeral. Allthat fine panegyric was yours, that commiseration was yours, thatexhortation was yours. It was you--you, I say--who hurled thosefirebrands, both those with which your friend himself was nearlyburnt, and those by which the house of Lucius Bellienus was seton fire and destroyed. It was you who let loose those attacks ofabandoned men, slaves for the most part, which we repelled by violenceand our own personal exertions; it was you who set them on to attackour houses. And yet you, as if you had wiped off all the soot andsmoke in the ensuing days, carried those excellent resolutions in theCapitol, that no document conferring any exemption, or granting anyfavour, should be published after the ides of March. You recollectyourself, what you said about the exiles; you know what you saidabout the exemption; but the best thing of all was, that you for everabolished the name of the dictatorship in the republic. Which actappeared to show that you had conceived such a hatred of kingly powerthat you took away all fear of it for the future, on account of himwho had been the last dictator. 

To other men the republic now seemed established, but it did notappear so at all to me, as I was afraid of every sort of shipwreck, as long as you were at the helm. Have I been deceived? or, was itpossible for that man long to continue unlike himself? While you wereall looking on, documents were fixed up over the whole Capitol, andexemptions were being sold, not merely to individuals, but to entirestates. The freedom of the city was also being given now not to singlepersons only, but to whole provinces. Therefore, if these acts are tostand, --and stand they cannot if the republic stands too, --then, Oconscript fathers, you have lost whole provinces; and not the revenuesonly, but the actual empire of the Roman people has been diminished bya market this man held in his own house. 

XXXVII. Where are the seven hundred millions of sesterces which wereentered in the account-books which are in the temple of Ops? a sumlamentable indeed, as to the means by which it was procured, but stillone which, if it were not restored to those to whom it belonged, mightsave us from taxes. And how was it, that when you owed forty millionsof sesterces on the fifteenth of March, you had ceased to owe themby the first of April? Those things are quite countless which werepurchased of different people, not without your knowledge; but therewas one excellent decree posted up in the Capitol affecting kingDeiotarus, a most devoted friend to the Roman people. And when thatdecree was posted up, there was no one who, amid all his indignation, could restrain his laughter. For who ever was a more bitter enemy toanother than Caesar was to Deiotarus? He was as hostile to him as hewas to this order, to the equestrian order, to the people of Massilia, and to all men whom he knew to look on the republic of the Romanpeople with attachment. But this man, who neither present nor absentcould ever obtain from him any favour or justice while he was alive, became quite an influential man with him when he was dead. Whenpresent with him in his house he had called for him though he was hishost, he had made him give in his accounts of his revenue, he hadexacted money from him; he had established one of his Greek retainersin his tetrarchy, and he had taken Armenia from him, which had beengiven to him by the senate. While he was alive he deprived him of allthese things; now that he is dead, he gives them back again. And inwhat words? At one time he says, "that it appears to him to be just, . .. " at another, "that it appears not to be unjust. .. . " What a strangecombination of words! But while alive, (I know this, for I alwayssupported Deiotarus, who was at a distance, ) he never said thatanything which we were asking for, for him, appeared just to him. Abond for ten millions of sesterces was entered into in the women'sapartment, (where many things have been sold, and are stillbeing sold, ) by his ambassadors, well-meaning men, but timid andinexperienced in business, without my advice or that of the rest ofthe hereditary friends of the monarch. And I advise you to considercarefully what you intend to do with reference to this bond. For theking himself, of his own accord, without waiting for any of Caesar'smemoranda, the moment that he heard of his death, recovered his ownrights by his own courage and energy. He, like a wise man, knew thatthis was always the law, that those men from whom the things whichtyrants had taken away had been taken, might recover them when thetyrants were slain. No lawyer, therefore, not even he who is yourlawyer and yours alone, and by whose advice you do all these things, will say that anything is due to you by virtue of that bond for thosethings which had been recovered before that bond was executed. For hedid not purchase them of you; but, before you undertook to sell himhis own property, he had taken possession of it. He was a man--we, indeed, deserve to be despised, who hate the author of the actions, but uphold the actions themselves. 

XXXVIII. Why need I mention the countless mass of papers, theinnumerable autographs which have been brought forward? writings ofwhich there are imitators who sell their forgeries as openly as ifthey were gladiators' playbills. Therefore, there are now such heapsof money piled up in that man's house, that it is weighed out insteadof being counted. [21] But how blind is avarice! Lately, too, adocument has been posted up by which the most wealthy cities of theCretans are released from tribute; and by which it is ordained thatafter the expiration of the consulship of Marcus Brutus, Crete shallcease to be a province. Are you in your senses? Ought you not to beput in confinement? Was it possible for there really to be a decreeof Caesar's exempting Crete after the departure of Marcus Brutus, whenBrutus had no connexion whatever with Crete while Caesar was alive? Butby the sale of this decree (that you may not, O conscript fathers, think it wholly ineffectual) you have lost the province of Crete. There was nothing in the whole world which any one wanted to buy thatthis fellow was not ready to sell. 

Caesar too, I suppose, made the law about the exiles which you haveposted up. I do not wish to press upon any one in misfortune; I onlycomplain, in the first place, that the return of those men has haddiscredit thrown upon it, whose cause Caesar judged to be differentfrom that of the rest; and in the second place, I do not know why youdo not mete out the same measure to all. For there can not be morethan three or four left. Why do not they who are in similar misfortuneenjoy a similar degree of your mercy? Why do you treat them as youtreated your uncle? about whom you refused to pass a law when youwere passing one about all the rest; and whom at the same time youencouraged to stand for the censorship, and instigated him to acanvass, which excited the ridicule and the complaint of every one. 

But why did you not hold that comitia? Was it because a tribune of thepeople announced that there had been an ill-omened flash of lightningseen? When you have any interest of your own to serve, then auspicesare all nothing; but when it is only your friends who are concerned, then you become scrupulous. What more? Did you not also desert himin the matter of the septemvirate?[22] "Yes, for he interferedwith me. " What were you afraid of? I suppose you were afraid thatyou would be able to refuse him nothing if he were restored to thefull possession of his rights. You loaded him with every speciesof insult, a man whom you ought to have considered in the placeof a father to you, if you had had any piety or natural affectionat all. You put away his daughter, your own cousin, having alreadylooked out and provided yourself beforehand with another. Thatwas not enough. You accused a most chaste woman of misconduct. What can go beyond this? Yet you were not content with this. In a very full senate held on the first of January, while youruncle was present, you dared to say that this was your reason forhatred of Dolabella, that you had ascertained that he had committedadultery with your cousin and your wife. Who can decide whether itwas more shameless of you to make such profligate and such impiousstatements against that unhappy woman in the senate, or more wicked tomake them against Dolabella, or more scandalous to make them in thepresence of her father, or more cruel to make them at all?

XXXIX. However, let us return to the subject of Caesar's writtenpapers. How were they verified by you? For the acts of Caesar were forpeace's sake confirmed by the senate; that is to say, the acts whichCaesar had really done, not those which Antonius said that Caesar haddone. Where do all these come from? By whom are they produced andvouched for? If they are false, why are they ratified? If they aretrue, why are they sold? But the vote which was come to enjoined you, after the first of June, to make an examination of Caesar's acts withthe assistance of a council. What council did you consult? Whom didyou ever invite to help you? What was the first of June that youwaited for? Was it that day on which you, having travelled allthrough the colonies where the veterans were settled, returnedescorted by a band of armed men?

Oh what a splendid progress of yours was that in the months of Apriland May, when you attempted even to lead a colony to Capua! How youmade your escape from thence, or rather how you barely made yourescape, we all know. And now you are still threatening that city. Iwish you would try, and we should not then be forced to say "barely. "However, what a splendid progress of yours that was! Why needI mention your preparations for banquets, why your frantichard-drinking? Those things are only an injury to yourself; these areinjuries to us. We thought that a great blow was inflicted on therepublic when the Campanian district was released from the payment oftaxes, in order to be given to the soldiery; but you have dividedit among your partners in drunkenness and gambling. I tell you, Oconscript fathers, that a lot of buffoons and actresses have beensettled in the district of Campania. Why should I now complain of whathas been done in the district of Leontini? Although formerly theselands of Campania and Leontini were considered part of the patrimonyof the Roman people, and were productive of great revenue, and veryfertile. You gave your physician three thousand acres; what would youhave done if he had cured you? and two thousand to your master oforatory; what would you have done if he had been able to make youeloquent? However, let us return to your progress, and to Italy. 

XL. You led a colony to Casilinum, a place to which Caesar hadpreviously led one. You did indeed consult me by letter about thecolony of Capua, (but I should have given you the same answer aboutCasilinum, ) whether you could legally lead a new colony to a placewhere there was a colony already. I said that a new colony could notbe legally conducted to an existing colony, which had been establishedwith a due observance of the auspices, as long as it remained in aflourishing state; but I wrote you word that new colonists mightbe enrolled among the old ones. But you, elated and insolent, disregarding all the respect due to the auspices, led a colony toCasilinum, whither one had been previously led a few years before; inorder to erect your standard there, and to mark out the line of thenew colony with a plough. And by that plough you almost grazed thegate of Capua, so as to diminish the territory of that flourishingcolony. After this violation of all religious observances, you hastenoff to the estate of Marcus Varro, a most conscientious and uprightman, at Casinum. By what right? with what face do you do this? By justthe same, you will say, as that by which you entered on the estates ofthe heirs of Lucius Rubrius, or of the heirs of Lucius Turselius, or on other innumerable possessions. If you got the right from anyauction, let the auction have all the force to which it is entitled;let writings be of force, provided they are the writings of Caesar, and not your own; writings by which you are bound, not those by whichyou have released yourself from obligation. 

But who says that the estate of Varro at Casinum was ever sold at all?who ever saw any notice of that auction? Who ever heard the voice ofthe auctioneer? You say that you sent a man to Alexandria to buy itof Caesar. It was too long to wait for Caesar himself to come! Butwhoever heard (and there was no man about whose safety more peoplewere anxious) that any part whatever of Varro's property had beenconfiscated? What? what shall we say if Caesar even wrote you that youwere to give it up? What can be said strong enough for such enormousimpudence? Remove for a while those swords which we see around us. Youshall now see that the cause of Caesar's auctions is one thing, andthat of your confidence and rashness is another. For not only shallthe owner drive you from that estate, but any one of his friends, orneighbours, or hereditary connexions, and any agent, will have theright to do so. 

XLI. But how many days did he spend revelling in the most scandalousmanner in that villa! From the third hour there was one scene ofdrinking, gambling, and vomiting. Alas for the unhappy house itself!how different a master from its former one has it fallen to the shareof! Although, how is he the master at all? but still by how differenta person has it been occupied! For Marcus Varro used it as a place ofretirement for his studies, not as a theatre for his lusts. Whatnoble discussions used to take place in that villa! what ideas wereoriginated there! what writings were composed there! The laws of theRoman people, the memorials of our ancestors, the consideration of allwisdom, and all learning, were the topics that used to be dwelt onthen;--but now, while you were the intruder there, (for I will notcall you the master, ) every place was resounding with the voices ofdrunken men; the pavements were floating with wine; the walls weredripping; nobly-born boys were mixing with the basest hirelings;prostitutes with mothers of families. Men came from Casinum, fromAquinum, from Interamna to salute him. No one was admitted. That, indeed, was proper. For the ordinary marks of respect were unsuitedto the most profligate of men. When going from thence to Rome heapproached Aquinum, a pretty numerous company (for it is a populousmunicipality) came out to meet him. But he was carried through thetown in a covered litter, as if he had been dead. The people ofAquinum acted foolishly, no doubt; but still they were in his road. What did the people of Anagnia do? who, although they were out ofhis line of road, came down to meet him, in order to pay him theirrespects, as if he were consul. It is an incredible thing to say, butstill it was only too notorious at the time, that he returned nobody'ssalutation; especially as he had two men of Anagnia with him, Mustelaand Laco; one of whom had the care of his swords, and the other of hisdrinking cups. 

Why should I mention the threats and insults with which he inveighedagainst the people of Teanum Sidicinum, with which he harassed the menof Puteoli, because they had adopted Caius Cassius and the Bruti astheir patrons? a choice dictated, in truth, by great wisdom, and greatzeal, benevolence, and affection for them; not by violence and forceof arms, by which men have been compelled to choose you, and Basilus, and others like you both, --men whom no one would choose to have forhis own clients, much less to be their client himself. 

XLII. In the mean time, while you yourself were absent, what a day wasthat for your colleague when he overturned that tomb in the forum, which you were accustomed to regard with veneration! And when thataction was announced to you, you--as is agreed upon by all who werewith you at the time--fainted away. What happened afterwards I knownot. I imagine that terror and arms got the mastery. At all events, you dragged your colleague down from his heaven; and you rendered him, not even now like yourself, but at all events very unlike his ownformer self. 

After that what a return was that of yours to Rome! How great was theagitation of the whole city! We recollected Cinna being too powerful;after him we had seen Sylla with absolute authority, and we had latelybeheld Caesar acting as king. There were perhaps swords, but they weresheathed, and they were not very numerous. But how great and howbarbaric a procession is yours! Men follow you in battle array withdrawn swords; we see whole litters full of shields borne along. Andyet by custom, O conscript fathers, we have become inured and callousto these things. When on the first of June we wished to come to thesenate, as it had been ordained, we were suddenly frightened andforced to flee. But he, as having no need of a senate, did not missany of us, and rather rejoiced at our departure, and immediatelyproceeded to those marvellous exploits of his. He who had defended thememoranda of Caesar for the sake of his own profit, overturned the lawsof Caesar--and good laws too--for the sake of being able to agitate therepublic. He increased the number of years that magistrates wereto enjoy their provinces; moreover, though he was bound to be thedefender of the acts of Caesar, he rescinded them both with referenceto public and private transactions. 

In public transactions nothing is more authoritative than law; inprivate affairs the most valid of all deeds is a will. Of the laws, some he abolished without giving the least notice; others he gavenotice of bills to abolish. Wills he annulled; though they have beenat all times held sacred even in the case of the very meanest of thecitizens. As for the statues and pictures which Caesar bequeathed tothe people, together with his gardens, those he carried away, some tothe house which belonged to Pompeius, and some to Scipio's villa. 

XLIII. And are you then diligent in doing honour to Caesar's memory?Do you love him even now that he is dead? What greater honour had heobtained than that of having a holy cushion, an image, a temple, anda priest? As then Jupiter, and Mars, and Quirinus have priests, soMarcus Antonius is the priest of the god Julius. Why then do youdelay? why are not you inaugurated? Choose a day; select some one toinaugurate you; we are colleagues; no one will refuse O you detestableman, whether you are the priest of a tyrant, or of a dead man! I askyou then, whether you are ignorant what day this is? Are you ignorantthat yesterday was the fourth day of the Roman games in the Circus?and that you yourself submitted a motion to the people, that a fifthday should be added besides, in honour of Caesar? Why are we not allclad in the praetexta? Why are we permitting the honour which by yourlaw was appointed for Caesar to be deserted? Had you no objection to soholy a day being polluted by the addition of supplications, while youdid not choose it to be so by the addition of ceremonies connectedwith a sacred cushion? Either take away religion in every case, orpreserve it in every case. 

You will ask whether I approve of his having a sacred cushion, atemple and a priest? I approve of none of those things. But you, who are defending the acts of Caesar, what reason can you give fordefending some, and disregarding others? unless, indeed, you chooseto admit that you measure everything by your own gain, and not byhis dignity. What will you now reply to these arguments?--(for I amwaiting to witness your eloquence; I knew your grandfather, who wasa most eloquent man, but I know you to be a more undisguised speakerthan he was; he never harangued the people naked; but we have seenyour breast, man, without disguise as you are. ) Will you make anyreply to these statements? will you dare to open your mouth at all?Can you find one single article in this long speech of mine, to whichyou trust that you can make any answer? However, we will say no moreof what is past. 

XLIV. But this single day, this very day that now is, this very momentwhile I am speaking, defend your conduct during this very moment, ifyou can. Why has the senate been surrounded with a belt of armed men?Why are your satellites listening to me sword in hand? Why are not thefolding-doors of the temple of Concord open? Why do you bring men ofall nations the most barbarous, Ityreans, armed with arrows, into theforum? He says, that he does so as a guard. Is it not then better toperish a thousand times than to be unable to live in one's own citywithout a guard of armed men? But believe me, there is no protectionin that;--a man must be defended by the affection and good-will of hisfellow citizens, not by arms. The Roman people will take them fromyou, will wrest them from your hands, I wish that they may do so whilewe are still safe. But however you treat us, as long as you adoptthose counsels, it is impossible for you, believe me, to last long. Intruth, that wife of yours, who is so far removed from covetousness, and whom I mention without intending any slight to her, has been toolong owing[23] her third payment to the state. The Roman people hasmen to whom it can entrust the helm of the state, and wherever theyare, there is all the defence of the republic, or rather, there isthe republic itself, which as yet has only avenged, but has notreestablished itself. Truly and surely has the republic most high bornyouths ready to defend it, --though they may for a time keep in thebackground from a desire for tranquillity, still they can be recalledby the republic at any time. 

The name of peace is sweet, the thing itself is most salutary. Butbetween peace and slavery there is a wide difference. Peace is libertyin tranquillity, slavery is the worst of all evils, --to be repelled, if need be, not only by war, but even by death. But if thosedeliverers of ours have taken themselves away out of our sight, stillthey have left behind the example of their conduct. They have donewhat no one else had done. Brutus pursued Tarquinius with war, whowas a king when it was lawful for a king to exist in Rome. SpuriusCassius, Spurius Maelius, and Marcus Manlius were all slain becausethey were suspected of aiming at regal power. These are the first menwho have ever ventured to attack, sword in hand, a man who was notaiming at regal power, but actually reigning. And their action is notonly of itself a glorious and godlike exploit, but it is also one putforth for our imitation, especially since by it they have acquiredsuch glory as appears hardly to be bounded by heaven itself. Foralthough in the very consciousness of a glorious action there is acertain reward, still I do not consider immortality of glory a thingto be despised by one who is himself mortal. 

XLV. Recollect then, O Marcus Antonius, that day on which youabolished the dictatorship. Set before you the joy of the senate andpeople of Rome, compare it with this infamous market held by youand by your friends, and then you will understand how great is thedifference between praise and profit. But in truth, just as somepeople, through some disease which has blunted the senses, haveno conception of the niceness of food, so men who are lustful, avaricious, and criminal, have no taste for true glory. But if praisecannot allure you to act rightly, still cannot even fear turn you awayfrom the most shameful actions? You are not afraid of the courts ofjustice. If it is because you are innocent I praise you, if becauseyou trust in your power of overbearing them by violence, are youignorant of what that man has to fear, who on such an account as thatdoes not fear the courts of justice?

But if you are not afraid of brave men and illustrious citizens, because they are prevented from attacking you by your armed retinue, still, believe me, your own fellows will not long endure you. Andwhat a life is it, day and night to be fearing danger from one's ownpeople! Unless, indeed, you have men who are bound to you by greaterkindnesses than some of those men by whom he was slain were bound toCaesar, or unless there are points in which you can be compared withhim. 

In that man were combined genius, method, memory, literature, prudence, deliberation, and industry. He had performed exploits in warwhich, though calamitous for the republic, were nevertheless mightydeeds. Having for many years aimed at being a king, he had with greatlabour, and much personal danger, accomplished what he intended. Hehad conciliated the ignorant multitude by presents, by monuments, bylargesses of food, and by banquets, he had bound his own party to himby rewards, his adversaries by the appearances of clemency. Why need Isay much on such a subject? He had already brought a free city, partlyby fear, partly by patience, into a habit of slavery. 

XLVI. With him I can, indeed, compare you as to your desire to reign, but in all other respects you are in no degree to be compared tohim. But from the many evils which by him have been burnt into therepublic, there is still this good, that the Roman people has nowlearnt how much to believe every one, to whom to trust itself, andagainst whom to guard. Do you never think on these things? And do younot understand that it is enough for brave men to have learnt hownoble a thing it is as to the act, how grateful it is as to thebenefit done, how glorious as to the fame acquired, to slay a tyrant?When men could not bear him, do you think they will bear you? Believeme, the time will come when men will race with one another to dothis deed, and when no one will wait for the tardy arrival of anopportunity. 

Consider, I beg you, Marcus Antonius, do some time or other considerthe republic: think of the family of which you are born, not of themen with whom you are living. Be reconciled to the republic. However, do you decide on your conduct. As to mine, I myself will declare whatthat shall be. I defended the republic as a young man, I will notabandon it now that I am old. I scorned the sword of Catiline, I willnot quail before yours. No, I will rather cheerfully expose my ownperson, if the liberty of the city can be restored by my death. 

May the indignation of the Roman people at last bring forth what ithas been so long labouring with. In truth, if twenty years ago in thisvery temple I asserted that death could not come prematurely upon aman of consular rank, with how much more truth must I now say the sameof an old man? To me, indeed, O conscript fathers, death is now evendesirable, after all the honours which I have gained, and the deedswhich I have done. I only pray for these two things: one, that dyingI may leave the Roman people free. No greater boon than this can begranted me by the immortal gods. The other, that every one may meetwith a fate suitable to his deserts and conduct towards the republic. 

THE THIRD PHILIPPIC, OR THIRD SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUSANTONIUS. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

After the composition of the last speech, Octavius, considering thathe had reason to be offended with Antonius, formed a plot for hisassassination by means of some slaves, which however was discovered. In the mean time Antonius began to declare more and more openlyagainst the conspirators. He erected a statue in the forum to Caesar, with the inscription, "To the most worthy Defender of his Country. "Octavius at the same time was trying to win over the soldiers of hisuncle Julius, and out-bidding Antonius in all his promises to them, sothat he soon collected a formidable army of veterans. But as he had nopublic office to give him any colour for this conduct, he paid greatcourt to the republican party, in hopes to get his proceedingsauthorized by the senate; and he kept continually pressing Cicero toreturn to Rome and support him. Cicero, however, for some time keptaloof, suspecting partly his abilities, on account of his exceedingyouth, and partly his sincerity in reconciling himself to his uncle'smurderers; however, at last he returned, after expressly stipulatingthat Octavius should employ all his forces in defence of Brutus andhis accomplices. 

Antonius left Rome about the end of September, in order to engage inhis service four legions of Caesar's, which were on their return fromMacedonia. But when they arrived at Brundusium three of them refusedto follow him, on which he murdered all their centurions, to thenumber of three hundred, who were all put to death in his lodgings, inthe sight of himself and Fulvia his wife, and then returned to Romewith the one legion which he had prevailed on; while the other threelegions declared as yet for neither party. On his arrival in Rome hepublished many very violent edicts, and summoned the senate to meeton the twenty-fourth of October; then he adjourned it to thetwenty-eighth; and a day or two before it met, he heard that two outof the three legions had declared for Octavius, and encamped at Alba. And this news alarmed him so much, that he abandoned his intention ofproposing to the senate a decree to declare Octavius a public enemy, and after distributing some provinces among his friends, he put onhis military robes, and left the city to take possession of CisalpineGaul, which had been assigned to him by a pretended law of the people, against the will of the senate. 

On the news of his departure Cicero returned to Rome, where he arrivedon the ninth of December. He immediately conferred with Pansa, one ofthe consuls elect, (Hirtius his colleague was ill, ) as to the measuresto be taken. He was again addressed with earnest solicitations bythe friends of Octavius, who, to confirm his belief in his goodintentions, allowed Casca, who had been one of the slayers of Caesar, and had himself given him the first blow, to enter on his office astribune of the people on the tenth of December. 

The new tribunes convoked the senate for the nineteenth, on whichoccasion Cicero had intended to be absent, but receiving the daybefore the edict of Decimus Brutus, by which he forbade Antonius toenter his province (immediately after the death of Caesar he had takenpossession of Cisalpine Gaul, which had been conferred on him byCaesar), and declared that he would defend it against him by force andpreserve it in its duty to the senate, he thought it necessary toprocure for Brutus a resolution of the senate in his favour. He wentdown therefore very early, and, in a very full house, delivered thefollowing speech. 

I. We have been assembled at length, O conscript fathers, altogetherlater than the necessities of the republic required; but still we areassembled, a measure which I, indeed, have been every day demanding, inasmuch as I saw that a nefarious war against our altars and ourhearths, against our lives and our fortunes was, I will not say beingprepared, but being actually waged by a profligate and desperate man. People are waiting for the first of January. But Antonius is notwaiting for that day, who is now attempting with an army to invade theprovince of Decimus Brutus, a most illustrious and excellent man. Andwhen he has procured reinforcements and equipments there, he threatensthat he will come to this city. What is the use then of waiting, orof even a delay for the very shortest time? For although the first ofJanuary is at hand, still a short time is a long one for people whoare not prepared. For a day, or I should rather say an hour, oftenbrings great disasters, if no precautions are taken. And it is notusual to wait for a fixed day for holding a council, as it is forcelebrating a festival. But if the first of January had fallen onthe day when Antonius first fled from the city, or if people had notwaited for it, we should by this time have no war at all. For weshould easily have crushed the audacity of that frantic man by theauthority of the senate and the unanimity of the Roman people. Andnow, indeed, I feel confident that the consuls elect will do so, as soon as they enter on their magistracy. For they are men of thehighest courage, of the most consummate wisdom, and they will act inperfect harmony with each other. But my exhortations to rapid andinstant action are prompted by a desire not merely for victory, butfor speedy victory. 

For how long are we to trust to the prudence of an individual to repelso important, so cruel, and so nefarious a war? Why is not the publicauthority thrown into the scale as quickly as possible?

II. Caius Caesar, a young man, or, I should rather say, almost a boy, endued with an incredible and godlike degree of wisdom and valour, atthe time when the frenzy of Antonius was at its height, and whenhis cruel and mischievous return from Brundusium was an object ofapprehension to all, while we neither desired him to do so, northought of such a measure, nor ventured even to wish it, (because itdid not seem practicable, ) collected a most trustworthy army from theinvincible body of veteran soldiers, and has spent his own patrimonyin doing so. Although I have not used the expression which Iought, --for he has not spent it, --he has invested it in the safety ofthe republic. 

And although it is not possible to requite him with all the thanks towhich he is entitled, still we ought to feel all the gratitude towardshim which our minds are capable of conceiving. For who is so ignorantof public affairs, so entirely indifferent to all thoughts of therepublic, as not to see that, if Marcus Antonius could have come withthose forces which he made sure that he should have, from Brundusiumto Rome, as he threatened, there would have been no description ofcruelty which he would not have practised? A man who in the house ofhis entertainer at Brundusium ordered so many most gallant menand virtuous citizens to be murdered, and whose wife's face wasnotoriously besprinkled with the blood of men dying at his and herfeet. Who is there of us, or what good man is there at all, whom a manstained with this barbarity would ever have spared; especially as hewas coming hither much more angry with all virtuous men than he hadbeen with those whom he had massacred there? And from this calamityCaesar has delivered the republic by his own individual prudence, (and, indeed, there were no other means by which it could have been done. )And if he had not been born in this republic we should, owing to thewickedness of Antonius, now have no republic at all. 

For this is what I believe, this is my deliberate opinion, that ifthat one young man had not checked the violence and inhuman projectsof that frantic man, the republic would have been utterly destroyed. And to him we must, O conscript fathers, (for this is the first time, met in such a condition, that, owing to his good service, we are atliberty to say freely what we think and feel, ) we must, I say, thisday give authority, so that he may be able to defend the republic, notbecause that defence has been voluntarily undertaken by him but alsobecause it has been entrusted to him by us. 

III. Nor (since now after a long interval we are allowed to speakconcerning the republic) is it possible for us to be silent about theMartial legion. For what single man has ever been braver, what singleman has ever been more devoted to the republic than the whole of theMartial legion? which, as soon as it had decided that Marcus Antoniuswas an enemy of the Roman people, refused to be a companion of hisinsanity; deserted him though consul; which, in truth, it would nothave done if it had considered him as consul, who, as it saw, wasaiming at nothing and preparing nothing but the slaughter of thecitizens, and the destruction of the state. And that legion hasencamped at Alba. What city could it have selected either moresuitable for enabling it to act, or more faithful, or full of moregallant men, or of citizens more devoted to the republic?

The fourth legion, imitating the virtue of this legion, under theleadership of Lucius Egnatuleius, the quaestor, a most virtuous andintrepid citizen, has also acknowledged the authority and joined thearmy of Caius Caesar. 

We, therefore, O conscript fathers, must take care that those thingswhich this most illustrious young man, this most excellent of all menhas of his own accord done, and still is doing, be sanctioned by ourauthority; and the admirable unanimity of the veterans, those mostbrave men, and of the Martial and of the fourth legion, in their zealfor the reestablishment of the republic, be encouraged by our praiseand commendation. And let us pledge ourselves this day that theiradvantage, and honours, and rewards shall be cared for by us as soonas the consuls elect have entered on their magistracy. 

IV. And the things which I have said about Caesar and about his army, are, indeed, already well known to you. For by the admirable valourof Caesar, and by the firmness of the veteran soldiers, and by theadmirable discernment of those legions which have followed ourauthority, and the liberty of the Roman people, and the valour ofCaesar, Antonius has been repelled from his attempts upon our lives. But these things, as I have said, happened before; but this recentedict of Decimus Brutus, which has just been issued, can certainly notbe passed over in silence. For he promises to preserve the province ofGaul in obedience to the senate and people of Rome. O citizen, bornfor the republic; mindful of the name he bears; imitator of hisancestors! Nor, indeed, was the acquisition of liberty so much anobject of desire to our ancestors when Tarquinius was expelled, as, now that Antonius is driven away, the preservation of it is to us. Those men had learnt to obey kings ever since the foundation ofthe city, but we from the time when the kings were driven out haveforgotten how to be slaves. And that Tarquinius, whom our ancestorsexpelled, was not either considered or called cruel or impious, but only The Proud. That vice which we have often borne in privateindividuals, our ancestors could not endure even in a king. 

Lucius Brutus could not endure a proud king. Shall Decimus Brutussubmit to the kingly power of a man who is wicked and impious? Whatatrocity did Tarquinius ever commit equal to the innumerable acts ofthe sort which Antonius has done and is still doing? Again, the kingswere used to consult the senate; nor, as is the case when Antoniusholds a senate, were armed barbarians ever introduced into the councilof the king. The kings paid due regard to the auspices, which thisman, though consul and augur, has neglected, not only by passing lawsin opposition to the auspices, but also by making his colleague (whomhe himself had appointed irregularly, and had falsified the auspicesin order to do so) join in passing them. Again, what king was everso preposterously impudent as to have all the profits, andkindnesses, and privileges of his kingdom on sale? But what immunityis there, what rights of citizenship, what rewards that this man hasnot sold to individuals, and to cities, and to entire provinces?We have never heard of anything base or sordid being imputed toTarquinius. But at the house of this man gold was constantly beingweighed out in the spinning room, and money was being paid, and inone single house every soul who had any interest in the business wasselling the whole empire of the Roman people. We have never heard ofany executions of Roman citizens by the orders of Tarquinius, but thisman both at Suessa murdered the man whom he had thrown into prison, and at Brundusium massacred about three hundred most gallant men andmost virtuous citizens. Lastly, Tarquinius was conducting a war indefence of the Roman people at the very time when he was expelled. Antonius was leading an army against the Roman people at the timewhen, being abandoned by the legions, he cowered at the name of Caesarand at his army, and neglecting the regular sacrifices, he offered upbefore daylight vows which he could never mean to perform, and atthis very moment he is endeavouring to invade a province of the Romanpeople. The Roman people, therefore, has already received and is stilllooking for greater services at the hand of Decimus Brutus than ourancestors received from Lucius Brutus, the founder of this race andname which we ought to be so anxious to preserve. 

V. But, while all slavery is miserable, to be slave to a man who isprofligate, unchaste, effeminate, never, not even while in fear, sober, is surely intolerable. He, then, who keeps this man out ofGaul, especially by his own private authority, judges, and judges mosttruly, that he is not consul at all. We must take care, therefore, Oconscript fathers, to sanction the private decision of Decimus Brutusby public authority. Nor, indeed, ought you to have thought MarcusAntonius consul at any time since the Lupercalia. For on the daywhen he, in the sight of the Roman people, harangued the mob, naked, perfumed, and drunk, and laboured moreover to put a crown on the headof his colleague, on that day he abdicated not only the consulship, but also his own freedom. At all events he himself must at once havebecome a slave, if Caesar had been willing to accept from him thatensign of royalty. Can I then think him a consul, can I think him aRoman citizen, can I think him a freeman, can I even think him a man, who on that shameful and wicked day showed what he was willing toendure while Caesar lived, and what he was anxious to obtain himselfafter he was dead?

Nor is it possible to pass over in silence the virtue and the firmnessand the dignity of the province of Gaul. For that is the flower ofItaly, that is the bulwark of the empire of the Roman people, that isthe chief ornament of our dignity. But so perfect is the unanimity ofthe municipal towns and colonies of the province of Gaul, that allmen in that district appear to have united together to defend theauthority of this order, and the majesty of the Roman people. Wherefore, O tribunes of the people, although you have not actuallybrought any other business before us beyond the question ofprotection, in order that the consuls may be able to hold the senatewith safety on the first of January, still you appear to me to haveacted with great wisdom and great prudence in giving an opportunityof debating the general circumstances of the republic. For when youdecided that the senate could not be held with safety without someprotection or other, you at the same time asserted by that decisionthat the wickedness and audacity of Antonius was still continuing itspractices within our walls. 

VI. Wherefore, I will embrace every consideration in my opinion whichI am now going to deliver, a course to which you, I feel sure, have noobjection, in order that authority may be conferred by us on admirablegenerals, and that hope of reward may be held out by us to gallantsoldiers, and that a formal decision may be come to, not by wordsonly, but also by actions, that Antonius is not only not a consul, butis even an enemy. For if he be consul, then the legions which havedeserted the consul deserve beating[24] to death. Caesar is wicked, Brutus is impious, since they of their own heads have levied an armyagainst the consul. But if new honours are to be sought out for thesoldiers on account of their divine and immortal merits, and if itis quite impossible to show gratitude enough to the generals, who isthere who must not think that man a public enemy, whose conductis such that those who are in arms against him are considered thesaviours of the republic?

Again, how insulting is he in his edicts! how ignorant! How like abarbarian! In the first place, how has he heaped abuse on Caesar, in terms drawn from his recollection of his own debauchery andprofligacy. For where can we find any one who is chaster than thisyoung man? who is more modest? where have we among our youth a moreillustrious example of the old-fashioned strictness? Who, on the otherhand, is more profligate than the man who abuses him? He reproachesthe son of Caius Caesar with his want of noble blood, when even hisnatural[25] father, if he had been alive, would have been made consul. His mother is a woman of Aricia. You might suppose he was saying awoman of Tralles, or of Ephesus. Just see how we all who come from themunicipal towns--that is to say, absolutely all of us--are looked downupon; for how few of us are there who do not come from those towns?and what municipal town is there which he does not despise who lookswith such contempt on Aricia; a town most ancient as to its antiquity;if we regard its rights, united with us by treaty; if we regard itsvicinity, almost close to us; if we regard the high character of itsinhabitants, most honourable? It is from Aricia that we have receivedthe Voconian and Atinian laws; from Aricia have come many of thosemagistrates who have filled our curule chairs, both in our fathers'recollection and in our own; from Aricia have sprung many of the bestand bravest of the Roman knights. But if you disapprove of a wife fromAricia, why do you approve of one from Tusculum? Although the fatherof this most virtuous and excellent woman, Marcus Atius Balbus, a manof the highest character, was a man of praetorian rank; but the fatherof your wife, --a good woman, at all events a rich one, --a fellow ofthe name of Bambalio, was a man of no account at all. Nothing could belower than he was, a fellow who got his surname as a sort of insult, derived[26] from the hesitation of his speech and the stolidity of hisunderstanding. Oh, but your grandfather was nobly born. Yes, he wasthat Tuditanus who used to put on a cloak and buskins, and then goand scatter money from the rostra among the people. I wish he hadbequeathed his contempt of money to his descendants! You have, indeed, a most glorious nobility of family! But how does it happen that theson of a woman of Aricia appears to you to be ignoble, when youare accustomed to boast of a descent on the mother's side which isprecisely the same?[27] Besides, what insanity is it for that man tosay anything about the want of noble birth in men's wives, when hisfather married Numitoria of Fregellae, the daughter of a traitor, andwhen he himself has begotten children of the daughter of a freedman. However, those illustrious men Lucius Philippus, who has a wife whocame from Aricia, and Caius Marcellus, whose wife is the daughter ofan Arician, may look to this; and I am quite sure that they have noregrets on the score of the dignity of those admirable women. 

VII. Moreover, Antonius proceeds to name Quintus Cicero, my brother'sson, in his edict; and is so mad as not to perceive that the way inwhich he names him is a panegyric on him. For what could happen moredesirable for this young man, than to be known by every one to be thepartner of Caesar's counsels, and the enemy of the frenzy of Antonius?But this gladiator has dared to put in writing that he had designedthe murder of his father and of his uncle. Oh the marvellousimpudence, and audacity, and temerity of such an assertion! to dare toput this in writing against that young man, whom I and my brother, on account of his amiable manners, and pure character, and splendidabilities, vie with one another in loving, and to whom we incessantlydevote our eyes, and ears, and affections! And as to me, he does notknow whether he is injuring or praising me in those same edicts. Whenhe threatens the most virtuous citizens with the same punishment whichI inflicted on the most wicked and infamous of men, he seems to praiseme as if he were desirous of copying me; but when he brings up againthe memory of that most illustrious exploit, then he thinks that he isexciting some odium against me in the breasts of men like himself. 

VIII. But what is it that he has done himself? When he had publishedall these edicts, he issued another, that the senate was to meet in afull house on the twenty-fourth of November. On that day he himselfwas not present. But what were the terms of his edict? These, Ibelieve, are the exact words of the end of it: "If any one fails toattend, all men will be at liberty to think him the adviser of mydestruction and of most ruinous counsels". What are ruinous counsels?those which relate to the recovery of the liberty of the Roman people?Of those counsels I confess that I have been and still am an adviserand prompter to Caesar. Although he did not stand in need of any one'sadvice, but still I spurned on the willing horse, as it is said. Forwhat good man would not have advised putting you to death, when onyour death depended the safety and life of every good man, and theliberty and dignity of the Roman people?

But when he had summoned us all by so severe an edict, why did he notattend himself? Do you suppose that he was detained by any melancholyor important occasion? He was detained drinking and feasting. If, indeed, it deserves to be called a feast, and not rather gluttony. He neglected to attend on the day mentioned in his edict, and headjourned the meeting to the twenty-eighth. He then summoned us toattend in the Capitol, and at that temple he did arrive himself, coming up through some mine left by the Gauls. Men came, having beensummoned, some of them indeed men of high distinction, but forgetfulof what was due to their dignity. For the day was such, the report ofthe object of the meeting such, such too the man who had convened thesenate, that it was discreditable for a senate to feel no fear for theresult. And yet to those men who had assembled he did not dare tosay a single word about Caesar, though he had made up his mind[28]to submit a motion respecting him to the senate. There was a man ofconsular rank who had brought a resolution ready drawn up. Is it notnow admitting that he is himself an enemy, when he does not dare tomake a motion respecting a man who is leading an army against himwhile he is consul? For it is perfectly plain that one of the twomust be an enemy, nor is it possible to come to a different decisionrespecting adverse generals. If then Caius Caesar be an enemy, why doesthe consul submit no motion to the senate? If he does not deserve tobe branded by the senate, then what can the consul say, who, by hissilence respecting him, has confessed that he himself is an enemy? Inhis edicts he styles him Spartacus, while in the senate he does notventure to call him even a bad citizen. 

IX. But in the most melancholy circumstances what mirth does he notprovoke? I have committed to memory some short phrases of one edict, which he appears to think particularly clever, but I have not as yetfound any one who has understood what he intended by them. "That is noinsult which a worthy man does. " Now, in the first place, what is themeaning of "worthy?" For there are many men worthy of punishment, ashe himself is. Does he mean what a man does who is invested with anydignity?[29] if so, what insult can be greater? Moreover, what is themeaning of "doing an insult?" Who ever uses such an expression? Thencomes, "Nor any fear which an enemy threatens" What then? is fearusually threatened by a friend? Then came many similar sentences. Isit not better to be dumb, than to say what no one can understand? Nowsee why his tutor, exchanging pleas for ploughs, has had given to himin the public domain of the Roman people two thousand acres of land inthe Leontine district, exempt from all taxes, for making a stupid manstill stupider at the public expense. 

However, these perhaps are trifling matters. I ask now, why all on asudden he became so gentle in the senate, after having been so fiercein his edicts? For what was the object of threatening Lucius Cassius, a most fearless tribune of the people, and a most virtuous and loyalcitizen, with death if he came to the Senate? of expelling DecimusCaifulenus, a man thoroughly attached to the republic, from the senateby violence and threats of death? of interdicting Titus Canutius, bywhom he had been repeatedly and deservedly harassed by most legitimateattacks, not only from the temple itself but from all approach to it?What was the resolution of the senate which he was afraid that theywould stop by the interposition of their veto? That, I suppose, respecting the supplication in honour of Marcus Lepidus, a mostillustrious man! Certainly there was a great danger of our hinderingan ordinary compliment to a man on whom we were every day thinkingof conferring some extraordinary honour. However, that he might notappear to have had no reason at all for ordering the senate tomeet, he was on the point of bringing forward some motion about therepublic, when the news about the fourth legion came; which entirelybewildered him, and hastening to flee away, he took a division on theresolution for decreeing this supplication, though such a proceedinghad never been heard of before. [30]

X. But what a setting out was his after this! what a journey when hewas in his robe as a general! How did he shun all eyes, and the lightof day, and the city, and the forum! How miserable was his flight! howshameful! how infamous! Splendid, too, were the decrees of the senatepassed on the evening of that very day; very religiously solemnwas the allotment of the provinces; and heavenly indeed was theopportunity, when everyone got exactly what he thought most desirable. You are acting admirably, therefore, O tribunes of the people, inbringing forward a motion about the protection of the senate andconsuls, and most deservedly are we all bound to feel and to prove toyou the greatest gratitude for your conduct. For how can we be freefrom fear and danger while menaced by such covetousness and audacity?And as for that ruined and desperate man, what more hostile decisioncan be passed upon him than has already been passed by his ownfriends? His most intimate friend, a man connected with me too, LuciusLentulus, and also Publius Naso, a man destitute of covetousness, haveshown that they think that they have no provinces assigned them, andthat the allotments of Antonius are invalid. Lucius Philippus, a manthoroughly worthy of his father and grandfather and ancestors, hasdone the same. The same is the opinion of Marcus Turanius, a man ofthe greatest integrity and purity of life. The same is the conductof Publius Oppius; and those very men, --who, influenced by theirfriendship for Marcus Antonius, have attributed to him more power thanthey would perhaps really approve of, --Marcus Piso, my own connexion, a most admirable man and virtuous citizen, and Marcus Vehilius, a manof equal respectability, have both declared that they would obey theauthority of the senate. Why should I speak of Lucius Cinna? whoseextraordinary integrity, proved under many trying circumstances, makesthe glory of his present admirable conduct less remarkable; he hasaltogether disregarded the province assigned to him; and so has CaiusCestius, a man of great and firm mind. 

Who are there left then to be delighted with this heavensentallotment? Lucius Antonius and Marcus Antonius! O happy pair! forthere is nothing that they wished for more. Caius Antonius hasMacedonia. Happy, too, is he! For he was constantly talking about thisprovince. Caius Calvisius has Africa. Nothing could be more fortunate, for he had only just departed from Africa, and, as if he had divinedthat he should return, he left two lieutenants at Utica. Then MarcusIccius has Sicily, and Quintus Cassius Spain. I do not know what tosuspect. I fancy the lots which assigned these two provinces, were notquite so carefully attended to by the gods. 

XI. O Caius Caesar, (I am speaking of the young man, ) what safety haveyou brought to the republic! How unforeseen has it been! how sudden!for if he did these things when flying, what would he have done whenhe was pursuing? In truth, he had said in a harangue that he would bethe guardian of the city; and that he would keep his army at thegates of the city till the first of May. What a fine guardian (as theproverb goes) is the wolf of the sheep! Would Antonius have been aguardian of the city, or its plunderer and destroyer? And he said toothat he would come into the city and go out as he pleased. What moreneed I say? Did he not say, in the hearing of all the people, whilesitting in front of the temple of Castor, that no one should remainalive but the conqueror?

On this day, O conscript fathers, for the first time after a longinterval do we plant our foot and take possession of liberty. Liberty, of which, as long as I could be, I was not only the defender, but eventhe saviour. But when I could not be so, I rested; and I bore themisfortunes and misery of that period without abjectness, and notwithout some dignity. But as for this most foul monster, who couldendure him, or how could any one endure him? What is there in Antoniusexcept lust, and cruelty, and wantonness, and audacity? Of thesematerials he is wholly made up. There is in him nothing ingenuous, nothing moderate, nothing modest, nothing virtuous. Wherefore, sincethe matter has come to such a crisis that the question is whether heis to make atonement to the republic for his crimes, or we are tobecome slaves, let us at last, I beseech you, by the immortal gods, O conscript fathers, adopt our fathers' courage, and our fathers'virtue, so as either to recover the liberty belonging to the Romanname and race, or else to prefer death to slavery. We have borne andendured many things which ought not to be endured in a free city, someof us out of a hope of recovering our freedom, some from too great afondness for life. But if we have submitted to these things, whichnecessity and a sort of force which may seem almost to have been puton us by destiny have compelled us to endure, though, in point offact, we have not endured them, are we also to bear with the mostshameful and inhuman tyranny of this profligate robber?

XII. What will he do in his passion, if ever he has the power, who, when he is not able to show his anger against any one, has been theenemy of all good men? What will he not dare to do when victorious, who, without having gained any victory, has committed such crimes asthese since the death of Caesar? has emptied his well filled house? haspillaged his gardens? has transferred to his own mansion all theirornaments? has sought to make his death a pretext for slaughter andconflagration? who, while he has carried two or three resolutions ofthe senate which have been advantageous to the republic, has madeeverything else subservient to his own acquisition of gain andplunder? who has put up exemptions and annuities to sale? who hasreleased cities from obligations? who has removed whole provincesfrom subjection to the Roman empire? who has restored exiles? who haspassed forged laws in the name of Caesar, and has continued to haveforged decrees engraved on brass and fixed up in the Capitol, and hasset up in his own house a domestic market for all things of that sort?who has imposed laws on the Roman people? and who, with armed troopsand guards, has excluded both the people and the magistrates from theforum? who has filled the senate with armed men? and has introducedarmed men into the temple of Concord when he was holding a senatethere? who ran down to Brundusium to meet the legions, and thenmurdered all the centurions in them who were well affected to therepublic? who endeavoured to come to Rome with his army to accomplishour massacre and the utter destruction of the city?

And he, now that he has been prevented from succeeding in this attemptby the wisdom and forces of Caesar, and the unanimity of the veterans, and the valour of the legions, even now that his fortunes aredesperate, does not diminish his audacity, nor, mad that he is, doeshe cease proceeding in his headlong career of fury. He is leading hismutilated army into Gaul, with one legion, and that too wavering inits fidelity to him, he is waiting for his brother Lucius, as hecannot find any one more nearly like himself than him. But now whatslaughter is this man, who has thus become a captain instead of amatador, a general instead of a gladiator, making, wherever he setshis foot! He destroys stores, he slays the flocks and herds, and allthe cattle, wherever he finds them, his soldiers revel in their spoil, and he himself, in order to imitate his brother, drowns himself inwine. Fields are laid waste, villas are plundered, matrons, virgins, well born boys are carried off and given up to the soldiery, andMarcus Antonius has done exactly the same wherever he has led hisarmy. 

XIII. Will you open your gates to these most infamous brothers? willyou ever admit them into the city? will you not rather, now that theopportunity is offered to you, now that you have generals ready, andthe minds of the soldiers eager for the service, and all the Romanpeople unanimous, and all Italy excited with the desire to recover itsliberty, --will you not, I say, avail yourself of the kindness of theimmortal gods? You will never have an opportunity if you neglect thisone. He will be hemmed in in the rear, in the front, and in flank, ifhe once enters Gaul. Nor must he be attacked by arms alone, but byour decrees also. Mighty is the authority, mighty is the name ofthe senate when all its members are inspired by one and the sameresolution. Do you not see how the forum is crowded? how the Romanpeople is on tiptoe with the hope of recovering its liberty? whichnow, beholding us, after a long interval, meeting here in numbers, hopes too that we are also met in freedom. It was in expectation ofthis day that I avoided the wicked army of Marcus Antonius, at atime when he, while inveighing against me, was not aware for what anoccasion I was reserving myself and my strength. If at that time I hadchosen to reply to him, while he was seeking to begin the massacrewith me, I should not now be able to consult the welfare of therepublic. But now that I have this opportunity, I will never, Oconscript fathers, neither by day nor by night, cease considering whatought to be thought concerning the liberty of the Roman people, andconcerning your dignity. And whatever ought to be planned or done, Inot only will never shrink from, but I will offer myself for, and begto have entrusted to me. This is what I did before while it was in mypower; when it was no longer in my power to do so, I did nothing. Butnow it is not only in my power, but it is absolutely necessary for me, unless we prefer being slaves to fighting with all our strength andcourage to avoid being slaves. The immortal gods have given us theseprotectors, Caesar for the city, Brutus for Gaul. For if he had beenable to oppress the city we must have become slaves at once; if he hadbeen able to get possession of Gaul, then it would not have been longbefore every good man must have perished and all the rest have beenenslaved. 

XIV. Now then that this opportunity is afforded to you, O conscriptfathers, I entreat you in the name of the immortal gods, seize uponit; and recollect at last that you are the chief men of the mosthonourable council on the whole face of the earth. Give a token to theRoman people that your wisdom shall not fail the republic, since thattoo professes that its valour shall never desert it either. Thereis no need for my warning you: there is no one so foolish as not toperceive that if we go to sleep over this opportunity we shall have toendure a tyranny which will be not only cruel and haughty, but alsoignominious and flagitious. You know the insolence of Antonius; youknow his friends; you know his whole household. To be slaves tolustful, wanton, debauched, profligate, drunken gamblers, is theextremity of misery combined with the extremity of infamy. And if now(but may the immortal gods avert the omen!) that worst of fates shallbefall the republic, then, as brave gladiators take care to perishwith honour, let us too, who are the chief men of all countries andnations, take care to fall with dignity rather than to live as slaveswith ignominy. 

There is nothing more detestable than disgrace; nothing more shamefulthan slavery. We have been born to glory and to liberty; let us eitherpreserve them or die with dignity. Too long have we concealed what wehave felt: now at length it is revealed: every one has plainly shownwhat are his feelings to both sides, and what are his inclinations. There are impious citizens, measured by the love I bear my country, too many; but in proportion to the multitude of well-affected ones, very few; and the immortal gods have given the republic an incredibleopportunity and chance for destroying them. For, in addition to thedefences which we already have, there will soon be added consulsof consummate prudence, and virtue, and concord, who have alreadydeliberated and pondered for many months on the freedom of the Romanpeople. With these men for our advisers and leaders, with the godsassisting us, with ourselves using all vigilance and taking greatprecautions for the future, and with the Roman people actingwith unanimity, we shall indeed be free in a short time, and therecollection of our present slavery will make liberty sweeter. 

XV. Moved by these considerations, since the tribunes of the peoplehave brought forward a motion to ensure that the senate shall be ableto meet in safety on the first of January, and that we may be ableto deliver our sentiments on the general welfare of the state withfreedom, I give my vote that Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius, theconsuls elect, do take care that the senate be enabled to meet insafety on the first of January; and, as an edict has been publishedby Decimus Brutus, imperator and consul elect, I vote that the senatethinks that Decimus Brutus, imperator and consul, deserves excellentlywell of the republic, inasmuch as he is upholding the authority of thesenate, and the freedom and empire of the Roman people; and as he isalso retaining the province of Gallia Citerior, a province full ofmost virtuous and brave men, and of citizens most devoted to therepublic, and his army, in obedience to the senate, I vote that thesenate judges that he, and his army, and the municipalities andcolonies of the province of Gaul, have acted and are acting properly, and regularly, and in a manner advantageous to the republic. Andthe senate thinks that it will be for the general interests of therepublic that the provinces which are at present occupied by DecimusBrutus and by Lucius Plancus, both imperators, and consuls elect, andalso by the officers who are in command of provinces, shall continueto be held by them in accordance with the provisions of the Julianlaw, until each of these officers has a successor appointed by aresolution of the senate; and that they shall take care to maintainthose provinces and armies in obedience to the senate and people ofRome, and as a defence to the republic. And since, by the exertionsand valour and wisdom of Caius Caesar, and by the admirable unanimityof the veteran soldiers, who, obeying his authority, have been and area protection to the republic, the Roman people has been defended, andis at this present time being defended, from the most serious dangers. And as the Martial legion has encamped at Alba, in a municipal townof the greatest loyalty and courage, and has devoted itself to thesupport of the authority of the senate, and of the freedom of theRoman people; and as the fourth legion, behaving with equal wisdomand with the same virtue, under the command of Lucius Egnatuleius thequaestor, an illustrious citizen, has defended and is still defendingthe authority of the senate and the freedom of the Roman people; Igive my vote, That it is and shall be an object of anxious care to thesenate to pay due honour and to show due gratitude to them for theirexceeding services to the republic: and that the senate hereby ordersthat when Caius Pausa and Aulus Hirtius, the consuls elect, haveentered on their office, they take the earliest opportunity ofconsulting this body on these matters, as shall seem to them expedientfor the republic, and worthy of their own integrity and loyalty. 

THE FOURTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. 

CALLED ALSO THE FOURTH PHILIPPIC. 

 * * * * *

THE ARGUMENT. 

After delivering the preceding speech in the senate, Cicero proceededto the forum, where he delivered the following speech to the people, to give them information of what had been done. 

I. The great numbers in which you are here met this day, O Romans, andthis assembly, greater than, it seems to me, I ever remember, inspiresme with both an exceeding eagerness to defend the republic, and with agreat hope of reestablishing it. Although my courage indeed has neverfailed; what has been unfavourable is the time; and the moment thatthat has appeared to show any dawn of light, I at once have been theleader in the defence of your liberty. And if I had attempted to havedone so before, I should not be able to do so now. For this day, ORomans, (that you may not think it is but a trifling business in whichwe have been engaged, ) the foundations have been laid for futureactions. For the senate has no longer been content with stylingAntonius an enemy in words, but it has shown by actions that it thinkshim one. And now I am much more elated still, because you too withsuch great unanimity and with such a clamour have sanctioned ourdeclaration that he is an enemy. 

And indeed, O Romans, it is impossible but that either the men mustbe impious who have levied armies against the consul, or else that hemust be an enemy against whom they have rightly taken arms. And thisdoubt the senate has this day removed--not indeed that there reallywas any; but it has prevented the possibility of there being any. Caius Caesar, who has upheld and who is still upholding the republicand your freedom by his seal and wisdom, and at the expense of hispatrimonial estate, has been complimented with the highest praises ofthe senate. I praise you, --yes, I praise you greatly, O Romans, when you follow with the most grateful minds the name of thatmost illustrious youth, or rather boy; for his actions belong toimmortality, the name of youth only to his age. I can recollect manythings; I have heard of many things; I have read of many things; butin the whole history of the whole world I have never known anythinglike this. For, when we were weighed down with slavery, when the evilwas daily increasing, when we had no defence, while we were in dreadof the pernicious and fatal return of Marcus Antonius from Brundusium, this young man adopted the design which none of us had ventured tohope for, which beyond all question none of us were acquainted with, of raising an invincible army of his father's soldiers, and sohindering the frenzy of Antonius, spurred on as it was by the mostinhuman counsels, from the power of doing mischief to the republic. 

II. For who is there who does not see clearly that, if Caesar had notprepared an army, the return of Antonius must have been accompanied byour destruction? For, in truth, he returned in such a state of mind, burning with hatred of you all, stained with the blood of the Romancitizens, whom he had murdered at Suessa and at Brundusium, that hethought of nothing but the utter destruction of the republic. And whatprotection could have been found for your safety and for your libertyif the army of Caius Caesar had not been composed of the bravest of hisfather's soldiers? And with respect to his praises and honours, --andhe is entitled to divine and everlasting honours for his godlike andundying services, --the senate has just consented to my proposals, andhas decreed that a motion be submitted to it at the very earliestopportunity. 

Now who is there who does not see that by this decree Antonius hasbeen adjudged to be an enemy? For what else can we call him, when thesenate decides that extraordinary honours are to be devised for thosemen who are leading armies against him? What? did not the Martiallegion (which appears to me by some divine permission to have derivedits name from that god from whom we have heard that the Roman peopledescended) decide by its resolutions that Antonius was an enemy beforethe senate had come to any resolution? For if he be not an enemy, wemust inevitably decide that those men who have deserted the consul areenemies. Admirably and seasonably, O Romans, have you by your criessanctioned the noble conduct of the men of the Martial legion, whohave come over to the authority of the senate, to your liberty, andto the whole republic; and have abandoned that enemy and robber andparricide of his country. Nor did they display only their spiritand courage in doing this, but their caution and wisdom also. Theyencamped at Alba, in a city convenient, fortified, near, full of bravemen and loyal and virtuous citizens. The fourth legion imitatingthe virtue of this Martial legion, under the leadership of LuciusEgnatuleius, whom the senate deservedly praised a little while ago, has also joined the army of Caius Caesar. 

III. What more adverse decisions, O Marcus Antonius, can you want?Caesar, who has levied an army against you, is extolled to the skies. The legions are praised in the most complimentary language, which haveabandoned you, which were sent for into Italy by you; and which, if you had chosen to be a consul rather than an enemy, were whollydevoted to you. And the fearless and honest decision of those legionsis confirmed by the senate, is approved of by the whole Romanpeople, --unless, indeed, you to-day, O Romans, decide that Antonius isa consul and not an enemy. I thought, O Romans, that you did think asyou show you do. What? do you suppose that the municipal towns, andthe colonies, and the prefectures have any other opinion? All men areagreed with one mind; so that every one who wishes the state to besaved must take up every sort of arms against that pestilence. What?does, I should like to know, does the opinion of Decimus Brutus, O Romans, which you can gather from his edict, which has this dayreached us, appear to any one deserving of being lightly esteemed?Rightly and truly do you say No, O Romans. For the family and nameof Brutus has been by some especial kindness and liberality of theimmortal gods given to the republic, for the purpose of at one timeestablishing, and at another of recovering, the liberty of the Romanpeople. What then has been the opinion which Decimus Brutus has formedof Marcus Antonius? He excludes him from his province. He opposes himwith his army. He rouses all Gaul to war, which is already used of itsown accord, and in consequence of the judgment which it has itselfformed. If Antonius be consul, Brutus is an enemy. Can we then doubtwhich of these alternatives is the fact?

IV. And just as you now with one mind and one voice affirm that youentertain no doubt, so did the senate just now decree that DecimusBrutus deserved excellently well of the republic, inasmuch as he wasdefending the authority of the senate and the liberty and empire ofthe Roman people. Defending it against whom? Why, against an enemy. For what other sort of defence deserves praise? In the next place theprovince of Gaul is praised, and is deservedly complimented in mosthonourable language by the senate for resisting Antonius. But if thatprovince considered him the consul, and still refused to receive him, it would be guilty of great wickedness. For all the provinces belongto the consul of right, and are bound to obey him. Decimus Brutus, imperator and consul elect, a citizen born for the republic, deniesthat he is consul; Gaul denies it; all Italy denies it; the senatedenies it; you deny it. Who then think that he is consul except a fewrobbers? Although even they themselves do not believe what they say;nor is it possible that they should differ from the judgment of allmen, impious and desperate men though they be. But the hope of plunderand booty blinds their minds; men whom no gifts of money, no allotmentof land, nor even that interminable auction has satisfied; who haveproposed to themselves the city, the properties and fortunes of allthe citizens as their booty; and who, as long as there is somethingfor them to seize and carry off, think that nothing will be wanting tothem; among whom Marcus Antonius (O ye immortal gods, avert, I prayyou, and efface this omen, ) has promised to divide this city. Maythings rather happen, O Romans, as you pray that they should, and maythe chastisement of this frenzy fall on him and on his friend. And, indeed, I feel sure that it will be so. For I think that at presentnot only men but the immortal gods have all united together topreserve this republic. For if the immortal gods foreshow us thefuture, by means of portents and prodigies, then it has been openlyrevealed to us that punishment is near at hand to him, and liberty tous. Or if it was impossible for such unanimity on the part of all mento exist without the inspiration of the gods, in either case how canwe doubt as to the inclinations of the heavenly deities? It onlyremains, O Romans, for you to persevere in the sentiments which you atpresent display. 

V. I will act, therefore, as commanders are in the habit of doing whentheir army is ready for battle, who, although they see their soldiersready to engage, still address an exhortation to them; and in likemanner I will exhort you who are already eager and burning to recoveryour liberty. You have not--you have not, indeed, O Romans, to waragainst an enemy with whom it is possible to make peace on any termswhatever. For he does not now desire your slavery, as he did before, but he is angry now and thirsts for your blood. No sport appears moredelightful to him than bloodshed, and slaughter, and the massacreof citizens before his eyes. You have not, O Romans, to deal with awicked and profligate man, but with an unnatural and savage beast. And, since he has fallen into a well, let him be buried in it. For ifhe escapes out of it, there will be no inhumanity of torture which itwill be possible to avoid. But he is at present hemmed in, pressed, and besieged by those troops which we already have, and will soon bestill more so by those which in a few days the new consuls will levy. Apply yourselves then to this business, as you are doing. Never haveyou shown greater unanimity in any cause; never have you been socordially united with the senate. And no wonder. For the question nowis not in what condition we are to live, but whether we are to live atall, or to perish with torture and ignominy. 

Although nature, indeed, has appointed death for all men: but valouris accustomed to ward off any cruelty or disgrace in death. And thatis an inalienable possession of the Roman race and name. Preserve, Ibeseech you, O Romans, this attribute which your ancestors have leftyou as a sort of inheritance. Although all other things are uncertain, fleeting, transitory; virtue alone is planted firm with very deeproots; it cannot be undermined by any violence; it can never be movedfrom its position. By it your ancestors first subdued the whole ofItaly; then destroyed Carthage, overthrew Numantia, and reduced themost mighty kings and most warlike nations under the dominion of thisempire. 

VI. And your ancestors, O Romans, had to deal with an enemy who hadalso a republic, a senate-house, a treasury, harmonious and unitedcitizens, and with whom, if fortune had so willed it, there might havebeen peace and treaties on settled principles. But this enemy of yoursis attacking your republic, but has none himself; is eager to destroythe senate, that is to say, the council of the whole world, but has nopublic council himself; he has exhausted your treasury, and has noneof his own. For how can a man be supported by the unanimity of hiscitizens, who has no city at all? And what principles of peacecan there be with that man who is full of incredible cruelty, anddestitute of faith?

The whole then of the contest, O Romans, which is now before the Romanpeople, the conqueror of all nations, is with an assassin, a robber, aSpartacus. [31] For as to his habitual boast of being like Catilina, heis equal to him in wickedness, but inferior in energy. He, though hehad no army, rapidly levied one. This man has lost that very armywhich he had. As, therefore, by my diligence, and the authority of thesenate, and your own zeal and valour, you crushed Catilina, so youwill very soon hear that this infamous piratical enterprise ofAntonius has been put down by your own perfect and unexampled harmonywith the senate, and by the good fortune and valour of your armies andgenerals. I, for my part, as far as I am able to labour, and to effectanything by my care, and exertions, and vigilance, and authority, and counsel, will omit nothing which I may think serviceable to yourliberty. Nor could I omit it without wickedness after all your mostample and honourable kindness to me. However, on this day, encouragedby the motion of a most gallant man, and one most firmly attached toyou, Marcus Servilius, whom you see before you, and his colleaguesalso, most distinguished men, and most virtuous citizens; and partly, too, by my advice and my example, we have, for the first time after along interval, fired up again with a hope of liberty. 

THE FIFTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. 

OTHERWISE CALLED THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 

 * * * * *

THE ARGUMENT. 

The new consuls Hirtius and Pansa were much attached to Cicero, hadconsulted him a great deal, and professed great respect for hisopinion; but they were also under great obligations to Julius Caesarand, consequently, connected to some extent with his party and withAntonius, on which account they wished, if possible, to employmoderate measures only against him. 

As soon as they had entered on their office, they convoked the senateto meet for the purpose of deliberating on the general welfare of therepublic. They both spoke themselves with great firmness, promising tobe the leaders in defending the liberties of Rome, and exhorting thesenate to act with courage. And then they called on Quintus FufiusCalenus, who had been consul A. U. C. 707, and who was Pansa'sfather-in-law, to deliver his opinion first. He was known to be a firmfriend of Antonius. Cicero wished to declare Antonius a public enemyat once, but Calenus proposed that before they proceeded to acts ofopen hostility against him, they should send an embassy to him toadmonish him to desist from his attempts upon Gaul, and to submit tothe authority of the senate. Piso and others supported this motion, on the ground that it was cruel and unjust to condemn a man withoutgiving him a fair chance of submitting, and without hearing what hehad to say. It was in opposition to Calenus's motion that Cicero madethe following speech, substituting for his proposition one to declareAntonius an enemy, and to offer pardon to those of his army whoreturned to their duty by the first of February, to thank DecimusBrutus for his conduct in Gaul, to decree a statue to MarcusLepidus[32] for his services to the republic and his loyalty, tothank Caius Caesar (Octavius) and to grant him a special commissionas general, to make him a senator and propraetor and to enable him tostand for any subsequent magistracy as if he had been quaestor, tothank Lucius Egnatuleius, and to vote thanks and promise rewards tothe Martial and the fourth legion. 

I. Nothing, O conscript fathers, has ever seemed to me longer thanthese calends of January, and I think that for the last few days youhave all been feeling the same thing. For those who are waging waragainst the republic have not waited for this day. But we, while itwould have been most especially proper for us to come to the aid ofthe general safety with our counsel, were not summoned to the senate. However, the speech just addressed to us by the consuls has removedour complaints as to what is past, for they have spoken in such amanner that the calends of January seem to have been long wished forrather than really to have arrived late. 

And while the speeches of the consuls have encouraged my mind, andhave given me a hope, not only of preserving our safety, but even ofrecovering our former dignity, on the other hand, the opinion of theman who has been asked for his opinion first would have disturbed me, if I had not confidence in your virtue and firmness. For this day, Oconscript fathers, has dawned upon you, and this opportunity has beenafforded you of proving to the Roman people how much virtue, how muchfirmness and how much dignity exists in the counsels of this order. Recollect what a day it was thirteen days ago, how great was then yourunanimity, and virtue, and firmness, and what great praise, what greatglory, and what great gratitude you gained from the Roman people. And on that day, O conscript fathers, you resolved that no otheralternative was in your power, except either an honourable peace, or anecessary war. 

Is Marcus Antonius desirous of peace? Let him lay down his arms, lethim implore our pardon, let him deprecate our vengeance; he will findno one more reasonable than me, though, while seeking to recommendhimself to impious citizens, he has chosen to be an enemy instead ofa friend to me. There is, in truth, nothing which can be given to himwhile waging war, there will perhaps be something which may be grantedto him if he comes before us as a suppliant. 

II. But to send ambassadors to a man respecting whom you passed a mostdignified and severe decision only thirteen days ago, is not an act oflenity, but, if I am to speak my real opinion, of downright madness. In the first place, you praised those generals who, of their own head, had undertaken war against him, in the next place, you praised theveterans who, though they had been settled in those colonies byAntonius, preferred the liberty of the Roman people to the obligationswhich they were under to him. Is it not so? Why was the Martiallegion? why was the fourth legion praised? For if they have desertedthe consul, they ought to be blamed; if they have abandoned an enemyto the republic, then they are deservedly praised. 

But as at that time you had not yet got any consuls, you passed adecree that a motion concerning the rewards for the soldiers and thehonours to be conferred on the generals should be submitted to you atthe earliest opportunity. Are you then going now to arrange rewardsfor those men who have taken arms against Antonius, and to sendambassadors to Antonius? so as to deserve to be ashamed that thelegions should have come to more honourable resolutions than thesenate if, indeed, the legions have resolved to defend the senateagainst Antonius, but the senate decrees to send ambassadors toAntonius. Is this encouraging the spirit of the soldiers, or dampingtheir virtue?

This is what we have gained in the last twelve days, that the manwhom no single person except Cotyla was then found to defend, has nowadvocates even of consular rank. Would that they had all been askedtheir opinion before me, (although I have my suspicions as to whatsome of those men who will be asked after me, are intending to say) Ishould find it easier to speak against them if any argument appearedto have been advanced. 

For there is an opinion in some quarters that some one intends topropose to decree Antonius that further Gaul, which Plancus is atpresent in possession of. What else is that but supplying an enemywith all the arms necessary for civil war; first of all with thesinews of war, money in abundance, of which he is at presentdestitute, and secondly, with as much cavalry as he pleases? Cavalrydo I say? He is a likely man to hesitate, I suppose, to bring with himthe barbarian nations, --a man who does not see this is senseless, hewho does see it, and still advocates such a measure, is impious. Willyou furnish a wicked and desperate citizen with an army of Gauls andGermans, with money, and infantry, and cavalry, and all sorts ofresources? All these excuses are no excuse at all. --"He is a friend ofmine. " Let him first be a friend of his country. --"He is a relation ofmine. " Can any relationship be nearer than that of one's country, inwhich even one's parents are comprised? "He has given me money:"--Ishould like to see the man who will dare to say that. But when I haveexplained what is the real object aimed at, it will be easy for you todecide which opinion you ought to agree with and adopt. 

III. The matter at issue is, whether power is to be given to MarcusAntonius of oppressing the republic, of massacring the virtuouscitizens, of plundering the city, of distributing the lands among hisrobbers, of overwhelming the Roman people in slavery; or, whether heis not to be allowed to do all this. Do you doubt what you are to do?"Oh, but all this does not apply to Antonius. " Even Cotyla would notventure to say that. For what does not apply to him? A man who, whilehe says that he is defending the acts of another, perverts all thoselaws of his which we might most properly praise. Caesar wished to drainthe marshes: this man has given all Italy to that moderate man LuciusAntonius to distribute. --What? has the Roman people adopted thislaw?--What? could it be passed with a proper regard for the auspices?But this conscientious augur acts in reference to the auspiceswithout his colleagues. Although those auspices do not require anyinterpretation;--for who is there who is ignorant that it is impiousto submit any motion to the people while it is thundering? Thetribunes of the people carried laws respecting the provinces inopposition to the acts of Caesar; Caesar had extended the provisions ofhis law over two years; Antonius over six years. Has then the Romanpeople adopted this law? What? was it ever regularly promulgated?What? was it not passed before it was even drawn up? Did we not seethe deed done before we even suspected that it was going to be done?Where is the Caecilian and Didian law? What is become of the law thatsuch bills should be published on three market days? What is become ofthe penalty appointed by the recent Junian and Licinian law? Can theselaws be ratified without the destruction of all other laws? Has anyone had a right of entering the forum? Moreover, what thunder, andwhat a storm that was! so that even if the consideration of theauspices had no weight with Marcus Antonius, it would seem strangethat he could endure and bear such exceeding violence of tempest, andrain, and whirlwind. When therefore he, as augur, says that he carrieda law while Jupiter was not only thundering, but almost uttering anexpress prohibition of it by his clamour from heaven, will he hesitateto confess that it was carried in violation of the auspices? What?does the virtuous augur think that it has nothing to do with theauspices, that he carried the law with the aid of that colleague whoseelection he himself vitiated by giving notice of the auspices?

IV. But perhaps we, who are his colleagues, may be the interpretersof the auspices? Do we also want interpreters of arms? In the firstplace, all the approaches to the forum were so fenced round, that evenif no armed men were standing in the way, still it would have beenimpossible to enter the forum except by tearing down the barricades. But the guards were arranged in such a manner, that, as the access ofan enemy to a city is prevented, so you might in this instance see theburgesses and the tribunes of the people cut off by forts and worksfrom all entrance to the forum. On which account I give my vote thatthose laws which Marcus Antonius is said to have carried were allcarried by violence, and in violation of the auspices; and that thepeople is not bound by them. If Marcus Antonius is said to havecarried any law about confirming the acts of Caesar and abolishing thedictatorship for ever, and of leading colonies into any lands, then Ivote that those laws be passed over again, with a due regard to theauspices, so that they may bind the people. For although they may begood measures which he passed irregularly and by violence, still theyare not to be accounted laws, and the whole audacity of this franticgladiator must be repudiated by our authority. But that squanderingof the public money cannot possibly be endured by which he got rid ofseven hundred millions of sesterces by forged entries and deeds ofgifts, so that it seems an absolute miracle that so vast a sum ofmoney belonging to the Roman people can have disappeared in so shorta time. What? are those enormous profits to be endured which thehousehold of Marcus Antonius has swallowed up? He was continuallyselling forged decrees; ordering the names of kingdoms and states, andgrants of exemptions to be engraved on brass, having received bribesfor such orders. And his statement always was, that he was doing thesethings in obedience to the memoranda of Caesar, of which he himself wasthe author. In the interior of his house there was going on a briskmarket of the whole republic. His wife, more fortunate for herselfthan for her husband, was holding an auction of kingdoms andprovinces: exiles were restored without any law, as if by law: andunless all these acts are rescinded by the authority of the senate, now that we have again arrived at a hope of recovering the republic, there will be no likeness of a free city left to us. 

Nor is it only by the sale of forged memoranda and autographs that acountless sum of money was collected together in that house, whileAntonius, whatever he sold, said that he was acting in obedience tothe papers of Caesar; but he even took bribes to make false entriesof the resolutions of the senate; to seal forged contracts; andresolutions of the senate that had never been passed were enteredon the records of that treasury. Of all this baseness even foreignnations were witnesses. In the meantime treaties were made; kingdomsgiven away; nations and provinces released from the burdens of thestate; and false memorials of all these transactions were fixed upall over the Capitol, amid the groans of the Roman people. And by allthese proceedings so vast a sum of money was collected in one house, that if it were all made available, the Roman people would never wantmoney again. 

V. Moreover, he passed a law to regulate judicial proceedings, thischaste and upright man, this upholder of the tribunals and the law. And in this he deceived us. He used to say that he appointed men fromthe front ranks of the army, common soldiers, men of the Alauda, [33]as judges. But he has in reality selected gamesters; he has selectedexiles; he has selected Greeks. Oh the fine bench of judges! Oh theadmirable dignity of that council! I do long to plead in behalf ofsome defendant before that tribunal--Cyda of Crete; a prodigy even inthat island; the most audacious and abandoned of men. But even supposehe were not so. Does he understand Latin? Is he qualified by birth andstation to be a judge? Does he--which is most important--does he knowanything about our laws and manners? Is he even acquainted with any ofthe citizens? Why, Crete is better known to you than Rome is to Cyda. In fact, the selection and appointment of the judges has usually beenconfined to our own citizens. But who ever knew, or could possiblyhave known this Gortynian judge? For Lysiades, the Athenian, we mostof us do know. For he is the son of Phaedrus, an eminent philosopher. And, besides, he is a witty man, so that he will be able to get onvery well with Marcus Curius, who will be one of his colleagues, andwith whom he is in the habit of playing. I ask if Lysiades, whensummoned as a judge, should not answer to his name, and should have anexcuse alleged for him that he is an Areopagite, and that he is notbound to act as a judge at both Rome and Athens at the same time, willthe man who presides over the investigation admit the excuse of thisGreekling judge, at one time a Greek, and at another a Roman? Or willhe disregard the most ancient laws of the Athenians?

And what a bench will it be, O ye good gods! A Cretan judge, and hethe most worthless of men. Whom can a defendant employ to propitiatehim? How is he to get at him? He comes of a hard nation. But theAthenians are merciful. I dare say that Curius, too, is not cruel, inasmuch as he is a man who is himself at the mercy of fortune everyday. There are besides other chosen judges who will perhaps beexcused. For they have a legitimate excuse, that they have left theircountry in banishment, and that they have not been restored since. And would that madman have chosen these men as judges, would he haveentered their names as such in the treasury, would he have trusted agreat portion of the republic to them, if he had intended to leave theleast semblance of a republic?

VI. And I have been speaking of those judges who are known. Those whomyou are less acquainted with I have been unwilling to name. Know thenthat dancers, harp-players, the whole troop, in fact, of Antonius'srevellers, have all been pitchforked into the third decury of judges. Now you see the object of passing so splendid and admirable a law, amid excessive rain, storm, wind, tempest, and whirlwind, amid thunderand lightning; it was that we might have those men for our judgeswhom no one would like to have for guests. It is the enormity of hiswickedness, the consciousness of his crimes, the plunder of that moneyof which the account was kept in the temple of Ops, which have beenthe real inventors of this third decury. And infamous judges were notsought for, till all hope of safety for the guilty was despaired of, if they came before respectable ones. But what must have been theimpudence, what must have been the iniquity of a man who dared toselect those men as judges, by the selection of whom a double disgracewas stamped on the republic: one, because the judges were so infamous;the other, because by this step it was revealed and published to theworld how many infamous citizens we had in the republic? These then, and all other similar laws, I should vote ought to be annulled, evenif they had been passed without violence, and with all proper respectfor the auspices. But now why need I vote that they ought to beannulled, when I do not consider that they were ever legally passed?

Is not this, too, to be marked with the deepest ignominy, and with theseverest animadversion of this order, so as to be recollected by allposterity, that Marcus Antonius (the first man who has ever done sosince the foundation of the city) has openly taken armed men aboutwith him in this city? A thing which the kings never did, nor thosemen who, since the kings have been banished, have endeavoured to seizeon kingly power. I can recollect Cinna; I have seen Sylla; and latelyCaesar. For these three men are the only ones since the city wasdelivered by Lucius Brutus, who have had more power than the entirerepublic. I cannot assert that no man in their trains had weapons. This I do say, that they had not many, and that they concealed them. But this pest was attended by an army of armed men. Classitius, Mustela, and Tiro, openly displaying their swords, led troops offellows like themselves through the forum. Barbarian archers occupiedtheir regular place in the army. And when they arrived at the templeof Concord, the steps were crowded, the litters full of shields werearranged; not because he wished the shields to be concealed, but thathis friends might not be fatigued by carrying the shields themselves. 

VII. And what was most infamous not only to see, but even to hear of, armed men, robbers, assassins were stationed in the temple of Concord;the temple was turned into a prison; the doors of the temple wereclosed, and the conscript fathers delivered their opinions whilerobbers were standing among the benches of the senators. And if Idid not come to a senate-house in this state, he, on the first ofSeptember, said that he would send carpenters and pull down my house. It was an important affair, I suppose, that was to be discussed. Hemade some motion about a supplication. I attended the day after. Hehimself did not come. I delivered my opinion about the republic, notindeed with quite so much freedom as usual, but still with more thanthe threats of personal danger to myself made perhaps advisable. Butthat violent and furious man (for Lucius Piso had done the same thingwith great credit thirty days before) threatened me with his enmity, and ordered me to attend the senate on the nineteenth of September. Inthe meantime he spent the whole of the intervening seventeen days inthe villa of Scipio, at Tibur, declaiming against me to make himselfthirsty. For this is his usual object in declaiming. When the dayarrived on which he had ordered me to attend, then he came with aregular army in battle array to the temple of Concord, and out of hisimpure mouth vomited forth an oration against me in my absence. Onwhich day, if my friends had not prevented me from attending thesenate as I was anxious to do, he would have begun a massacre by theslaughter of me. For that was what he had resolved to do. And whenonce he had dyed his sword in blood, nothing would have made himleave off but pure fatigue and satiety. In truth, his brother, LuciusAntonius, was present, an Asiatic gladiator, who had fought as aMirmillo, [34] at Mylasa; he was thirsting for my blood, and had shedmuch of his own in that gladiatorial combat. He was now valuing ourproperty in his mind, taking notice of our possessions in the cityand in the country; his indigence united with his covetousness wasthreatening all our fortunes; he was distributing our lands towhomsoever and in whatever shares he pleased; no private individualcould get access to him, or find any means to propitiate him, andinduce him to act with justice. Every former proprietor had just somuch property as Antonius left him after the division of his estate. And although all these proceedings cannot be ratified, if you annulhis laws, still I think that they ought all to be separately takennote of, article by article; and that we ought formally to decide thatthe appointment of septemvirs was null and void; and that nothing isratified which is said to have been done by them. 

VIII. But who is there who can consider Marcus Antonius a citizen, rather than a most foul and barbarous enemy, who, while sitting infront of the temple of Castor, in the hearing of the Roman people, said that no one should survive except those who were victorious? Doyou suppose, O conscript fathers, that he spoke with more violencethan he would act? And what are we to think of his having ventured tosay that, after he had given up his magistracy, he should still be atthe city with his army? that he should enter the city as often as hepleased? What else was this but threatening the Roman people withslavery? And what was the object of his journey to Brundusium? and ofthat great haste? What was his hope, except to lead that vast armyto the city, or rather into the city? What a proceeding was thatselection of the centurions! What unbridled fury of an intemperatemind! For when those gallant legions had raised an outcry against hispromises, he ordered those centurions to come to him to his house, whom he perceived to be loyally attached to the republic, and then hehad them all murdered before his own eyes and those of his wife, whomthis noble commander had taken with him to the army. What dispositiondo you suppose that this man will display towards us whom he hates, when he was so cruel to those men whom he had never seen? And howcovetous will he be with respect to the money of rich men, when hethirsted for even the blood of poor men? whose property, such as itwas, he immediately divided among his satellites and boon companions. 

And he in a fury was now moving his hostile standards against hiscountry from Brundusium, when Caius Caesar, by the kind inspiration ofthe immortal gods, by the greatness of his own heavenly courage, andwisdom, and genius, of his own accord, indeed, and prompted by his ownadmirable virtue, but still with the approbation of my authority, wentdown to the colonies which had been founded by his father; convokedthe veteran soldiery; in a few days raised an army; and checked thefurious advance of this bandit. But after the Martial legion saw thisadmirable leader, it had no other thoughts but those of securing ourliberty. And the fourth legion followed its example. 

IX. And Antonius, on hearing of this news, after he had summoned thesenate, and provided a man of consular rank to declare his opinionthat Caius Caesar was an enemy of his country, immediately faintedaway. And afterwards, without either performing the usual sacrifices, or offering the customary vows, he, I will not say went forth, buttook to flight in his robe as a general. But which way did he flee? Tothe province of our most resolute and bravest citizens; men who couldnever have endured him if he had not come bringing war in his train, an intemperate, passionate, insolent, proud man, always makingdemands, always plundering, always drunk. But he, whose worthlessnesseven when quiet was more than any one could endure, has declared warupon the province of Gaul; he is besieging Mutina, a valiant andsplendid colony of the Roman people; he is blockading Decimus Brutus, the general, the consul elect, a citizen born not for himself, but forus and the republic. Was then Hannibal an enemy, and is Antonius acitizen? What did the one do like an enemy, that the other has notdone, or is not doing, or planning, and thinking of? What was therein the whole of the journey of the Antonii; except depopulation, devastation, slaughter, and rapine? Actions which Hannibal never did, because he was reserving many things for his own use, these men do, as men who live merely for the present hour; they never have given athought not only to the fortunes and welfare of the citizens, but noteven to their own advantage. 

Are we then, O ye good gods, to resolve to send ambassadors to thisman? Are those men who propose this acquainted with the constitutionof the republic, with the laws of war, with the precedents of ourancestors? Do they give a thought to what the majesty of the Romanpeople and the severity of the senate requires? Do you resolve to sendambassadors? If to beg his mercy, he will despise you; if to declareyour commands he will not listen to them; and last of all, howeversevere the message may be which we give the ambassadors, the very nameof ambassadors will extinguish this ardour of the Roman people whichwe see at present, and break the spirit of the municipal towns and ofItaly. To say nothing of these arguments, though they are weighty, atall events that sending of an embassy will cause delay and slowness tothe war. Although those who propose it should say, as I hear that someintend to say, --"Let the ambassadors go, but let war be prepared forall the same. " Still the very name of ambassadors will damp men'scourage, and delay the rapidity of the war. 

X. The most important events, O conscript fathers, are oftendetermined by very trivial moving influences in every circumstancethat can happen in the republic, and also in war, and especially incivil war, which is usually governed a great deal by men's opinionsand by reports. No one will ask what is the commission with which wehave sent the ambassadors; the mere name of an embassy, and that sentby us of our own accord, will appear an indication of fear. Let himdepart from Mutina; let him cease to attack Brutus; let him retirefrom Gaul. He must not be begged in words to do so; he must becompelled by arms. For we are not sending to Hannibal to desire him toretire from before Saguntum; to whom the senate formerly sent PubliusValerius Flaccus and Quintus Baebius Tampilus; who, if Hannibal did notcomply, were ordered to proceed to Carthage. Whither do we order ourambassadors to proceed, if Antonius does not comply? Are we sending anembassy to our own citizen, to beg him not to attack a general and acolony of the Roman people? Is it so? Is it becoming to us to beg thisby means of ambassadors? What is the difference, in the name of theimmortal gods, whether he attacks this city itself, or whether heattacks an outpost of this city, a colony of the Roman people, established for the sake of its being a bulwark and protection to us?The siege of Saguntum was the cause of the second Punic war, whichHannibal carried on against our ancestors. It was quite right to sendambassadors to him. They were sent to a Carthaginian, they were senton behalf of those who were the enemies of Hannibal, and our allies. What is there resembling that case here? We are sending to one of ourown citizens to beg him not to blockade a general of the Roman army, not to attack our army and our colony, --in short, not to be an enemyof ours. Come; suppose he obeys, shall we either be inclined, or shallwe be able by any possibility, to treat him as one of our citizens?

XI. On the nineteenth of December, you overwhelmed him with yourdecrees; you ordained that this motion should be submitted to you onthe first of January, which you see is submitted now, respecting thehonours and rewards to be conferred on those who have deserved or dodeserve well of the republic. And the chief of those men you haveadjudged to be the man who really has done so, Caius Caesar, who haddiverted the nefarious attacks of Marcus Antonius against this city, and compelled him to direct them against Gaul; and next to him youconsider the veteran soldiers who first followed Caesar; then thoseexcellent and heavenly-minded legions the Martial and the fourth, to whom you have promised honours and rewards, for having not onlyabandoned their consul, but for having even declared war against him. And on the same day, having a decree brought before you and publishedon purpose, you praised the conduct of Decimus Brutus, a mostexcellent citizen, and sanctioned with your public authority this warwhich he had undertaken of his own head. 

What else, then, did you do on that day except pronounce Antonius apublic enemy? After these decrees of yours, will it be possible forhim to look upon you with equanimity, or for you to behold him withoutthe most excessive indignation? He has been excluded and cut off andwholly separated from the republic, not merely by his own wickedness, as it seems to me, but by some especial good fortune of the republic. And if he should comply with the demands of the ambassadors and returnto Rome, do you suppose that abandoned citizens will ever be in needof a standard around which to rally? But this is not what I am so muchafraid of. There are other things which I am more apprehensive ofand more alarmed at. He never will comply with the demands of theambassadors. I know the man's insanity and arrogance; I know thedesperate counsels of his friends, to which he is wholly given up. Lucius his brother, as being a man who has fought abroad, leads onhis household. Even suppose him to be in his senses himself, which henever will be; still he will not be allowed by these men to act as ifhe were so. In the mean time, time will be wasted. The preparationsfor war will cool. How is it that the war has been protracted as longas this, if it be not by procrastination and delay?

From the very first moment after the departure, or rather after thehopeless flight of that bandit, that the senate could have met infreedom, I have always been demanding that we should be calledtogether. The first day that we were called together, when the consulselect were not present, I laid, in my opinion, amid the greatestunanimity on your part, the foundations of the republic, later, indeed, than they should have been laid, for I could not do so before, but still if no time had been lost after that day, we should have nowar at all now. Every evil is easily crushed at its birth, when it hasbecome of long standing, it usually gets stronger. But then everybodywas waiting for the first of January, perhaps not very wisely. 

XII However, let us say no more of what is past. Are we still to allowany further delay while the ambassadors are on their road to him? andwhile they are coming back again? and the time spent in waiting forthem will make men doubt about the war. And while the fact of the waris in doubt, how can men possibly be zealous about the levies for thearmy?

Wherefore, O conscript fathers, I give my vote that there should be nomention made of ambassadors I think that the business that is to bedone must be done without any delay, and instantly. I say that it isnecessary that we should decree that there is sedition abroad, that weshould suspend the regular courts of justice, order all men to wearthe garb of war, and enlist men in all quarters, suspending allexemptions from military service in the city and in all Italy, exceptin Gaul. And if this be done, the general opinion and report of yourseverity will overwhelm the insanity of that wicked gladiator. Hewill feel that he has undertaken a war against the republic, he willexperience the sinews and vigour of a unanimous senate For at presenthe is constantly saying that it is a mere struggle between parties. Between what parties? One party is defeated, the other is the heartof Caius Caesar's party. Unless, indeed, we believe that the partyof Caesar is attacked by Pansa and Hirtius the consuls, and by CaiusCaesar's son. But this war has been kindled, not by a struggle betweenparties, but by the nefarious hopes of the most abandoned citizens, bywhom all our estates and properties have been marked down, and alreadydistributed according as every one has thought them desirable. 

I have read the letter of Antonius which he sent to one of theseptemviri, a thoroughpaced scoundrel, a colleague of his own, "Lookout, and see what you take a fancy to, what you do fancy you shallcertainly have". See to what a man we are sending ambassadors, againstwhat a man we are delaying to make war, a man who does not even let usdraw lots for our fortunes, but hands us over to each man's caprice insuch a way, that he has not left even himself anything untouched, orwhich has not been promised to somebody. With this man, O conscriptfathers, we must wage war, --war, I say, and that instantly. We mustreject the slow proceedings of ambassadors. 

Therefore, that we may not have a number of decrees to pass every day, I give my vote that the whole republic should be committed to theconsuls, and that they should have a charge given them to defend therepublic, and to take care "that the republic suffer no injury. " AndI give my vote that those men who are in the army of Antonius be notvisited with blame, if they leave him before the first of February. 

If you adopt these proposals of mine, O conscript fathers, you willin a short time recover the liberty of the Roman people and our ownauthority. But if you act with more mildness, still you will passthose resolutions, but perhaps you will pass them too late. As tothe general welfare of the republic, on which you, O consuls, haveconsulted us, I think that I have proposed what is sufficient. 

XIII. The next question is about honours. And to this point I perceivethat I must speak next. But I will preserve the same order in payingrespect to brave men, that is usually preserved in asking theiropinions. 

Let us, therefore, according to the usages of our ancestors, beginwith Brutus, the consul elect, and, to say nothing of his formerconduct, --which has indeed been most admirable, but still such as hasbeen praised by the individual judgments of men, rather than by publicauthority, --what words can we find adequate to his praise at this verytime? For such great virtue requires no reward except this one ofpraise and glory; and even if it were not to receive that, still itwould be content with itself, and would rejoice at being laid up inthe recollection of grateful citizens, as if it were placed in thefull light. The praise then of our deliberate opinion, and of ourtestimony in his favour, must be given to Brutus. Therefore, Oconscript fathers, I give my vote that a resolution of the senate bepassed in these words:

"As Decimus Brutus, imperator, consul elect is maintaining theprovince of Gaul in obedience to the senate and people of Rome, and ashe has enlisted and collected in so short a time a very numerous army, being aided by the admirable zeal of the municipal towns and coloniesof the province of Gaul, which has deserved and still does deserveadmirably well of the republic, he has acted rightly and virtuously, and greatly for the advantage of the republic. And that most excellentservice done by Decimus Brutus to the republic, is and always will begrateful to the senate and people of Rome. Therefore, the senate andthe Roman people is of opinion that the exertions, and prudence, and virtue of Decimus Brutus, imperator and consul elect, and theincredible zeal and unanimity of the province of Gaul, have been agreat assistance to the republic, at a most critical time. "

What honour, O conscript fathers, can be too great to be due to such amighty service as this of Brutus, and to such important aid as hehas afforded the republic? For if Gaul had been open to MarcusAntonius--if after having overwhelmed the municipal towns and coloniesunprepared to resist him, he had been able to penetrate into thatfurther Gaul--what great danger would have hung over the republic!That most insane of men, that man so headlong and furious in all hiscourses, would have been likely, I suppose, to hesitate at waging waragainst us, not only with his own army, but with all the savage troopsof barbarism, so that even the wall of the Alps would not have enabledus to check his frenzy. These thanks then will be deservedly paidto Decimus Brutus, who, before any authority of yours had beeninterposed, acting on his own judgment and responsibility, refused toreceive him as consul, but repelled him from Gaul as an enemy, andpreferred to be besieged himself rather than to allow this city to beso. Let him therefore have, by your decree, an everlasting testimonyto this most important and glorious action, and let Gaul, [35] whichalways is and has been a protection to this empire and to the generalliberty, be deservedly and truly praised for not having surrenderedherself and her power to Antonius, but for having opposed him withthem. 

XIV. And, furthermore, I give my vote that the most ample honours bedecreed to Marcus Lepidus, as a reward for his eminent services to therepublic. He has at all times wished the Roman people to be free, andhe gave the greatest proof of his inclination and opinion on that day, when, while Antonius was placing the diadem on Caesar's head, he turnedhis face away, and by his groans and sorrow showed plainly what ahatred of slavery he had, how desirous he was for the Roman people tobe free, and how he had endured those things which he had endured morebecause of the necessity of the times, than because they harmonisedwith his sentiments. And who of us can forget with what greatmoderation he behaved during that crisis of the city which ensuedafter the death of Caesar? These are great merits, but I hasten tospeak of greater still. For, (O ye immortal gods!) what could happenmore to be admired by foreign nations or more to be desired by theRoman people, than, at a time when there was a most important civilwar, the result of which we were all dreading, that it should beextinguished by prudence rather than that arms and violence should beable to put everything to the hazard of a battle? And if Caesar hadbeen guided by the same principles in that odious and miserable war, we should have--to say nothing of their father--the two sons of CnaeusPompeius, that most illustrious and virtuous man, safe among us, menwhose piety and filial affection certainly ought not to have beentheir ruin. Would that Marcus Lepidus had been able to save them all!He showed that he would have done so, by his conduct in cases where hehad the power, when he restored Sextus Pompeius to the state, a greatornament to the republic, and a most illustrious monument of hisclemency. Sad was that picture, melancholy was the destiny then of theRoman people. For after Pompeius the father was dead, he who wasthe light of the Roman people, the son too, who was wholly like hisfather, was also slain. But all these calamities appear to me to havebeen effaced by the kindness of the immortal gods, Sextus Pompeiusbeing preserved to the republic. 

XV. For which cause, reasonable and important as it is and becauseMarcus Lepidus, by his humanity and wisdom, has changed a mostdangerous and extensive civil war into peace and concord, I give myvote, that a resolution of the senate be drawn up in these words:

"Since the affairs of the republic have repeatedly been well andprosperously conducted by Marcus Lepidus, imperator, and PontifexMaximus, and since the Roman people is fully aware that kingly poweris very displeasing to him; and since by his exertions, and virtue, and prudence, and singular clemency and humanity, a most bitter civilwar has been extinguished; and Sextus Pompeius Magnus, the son ofCnaeus, having submitted to the authority of this order and laid downhis arms, and, in accordance with the perfect good-will of the senateand people of Rome, has been restored to the state by Marcus Lepidus, imperator, and Pontifex Maximus; the senate and people of Rome, inreturn for the important and numerous services of Marcus Lepidusto the republic, declares that it places great hopes of futuretranquillity and peace and concord, in his virtue, authority, and goodfortune; and the senate and people of Rome will ever remember hisservices to the republic; and it is decreed by the vote of this order, That a gilt equestrian statue be erected to him in the Rostra, or inwhatever other place in the forum he pleases. "

And this honour, O conscript fathers, appears to me a very great one, in the first place, because it is just;--for it is not merely givenon account of our hopes of the future, but it is paid, as it were, in requital of his ample services already done. Nor are we able tomention any instance of this honour having been conferred on any oneby the senate by their own free and voluntary judgment before. 

XVI. I come now to Caius Caesar, O conscript fathers; if he had notexisted, which of us could have been alive now? That most intemperateof men, Antonius, was flying from Brundusium to the city, burning withhatred, with a disposition hostile to all good men, with an army. Whatwas there to oppose to his audacity and wickedness? We had not as yetany generals, or any forces. There was no public council, no liberty;our necks were at the mercy of his nefarious cruelty; we were allpreparing to have recourse to flight, though flight itself had noescape for us. Who was it--what god was it, who at that time gave tothe Roman people this godlike young man, who, while every meansfor completing our destruction seemed open to that most perniciouscitizen, rising up on a sudden, beyond every one's hope, completedan army fit to oppose to the fury of Marcus Antonius before any onesuspected that he was thinking of any such step? Great honours werepaid to Cnaeus Pompeius when he was a young man, and deservedly; for hecame to the assistance of the republic; but he was of a more vigorousage, and more calculated to meet the eager requirements of soldiersseeking a general. He had also been already trained in other kindsof war. For the cause of Sylla was not agreeable to all men. Themultitude of the proscribed, and the enormous calamities that fell onso many municipal towns, show this plainly. But Caesar, though manyyears younger, armed veterans who were now eager to rest; he hasembraced that cause which was most agreeable to the senate, to thepeople, to all Italy, --in short, to gods and men. And Pompeius came asa reinforcement to the extensive command and victorious army of LuciusSylla; Caesar had no one to join himself to. He, of his own accord, wasthe author and executor of his plan of levying an army, and arrayinga defence for us. Pompeius found the whole Picene district hostile tothe party of his adversaries; but Caesar has levied an army againstAntonius from men who were Antonius's own friends, but still greaterfriends to liberty. It was owing to the influence of Pompeius thatSylla was enabled to act like a king. It is by the protection affordedus by Caesar that the tyranny of Antonius has been put down. 

Let us then confer on Caesar a regular military command, without whichthe military affairs cannot be directed, the army cannot be heldtogether, war cannot be waged. Let him be made proprietor with all theprivileges which have ever been attached to that appointment. Thathonour, although it is a great one for a man of his age, still isnot merely of influence as giving dignity, but it confers powerscalculated to meet the present emergency. Therefore, let us seek forhonours for him which we shall not easily find at the present day. 

XVII. But I hope that we and the Roman people shall often have anopportunity of complimenting and honouring this young man. But at thepresent moment I give my vote that we should pass a decree in thisform:

"As Caius Caesar, the son of Caius, Pontiff and Propraetor, has at amost critical period of the republic exhorted the veteran soldiers todefend the liberty of the Roman people, and has enlisted them in hisarmy, and as the Martial legion and the fourth legion, with great zealfor the republic, and with admirable unanimity, under the guidance andauthority of Caius Caesar, have defended and are defending the republicand the liberty of the Roman people, and as Caius Caesar, propraetor, has gone with his army as a reinforcement to the province of Gaul, hasmade cavalry, and archers, and elephants, obedient to himself and tothe Roman people, and has, at a most critical time for the republic, come to the aid of the safety and dignity of the Roman people, --onthese accounts, it seems good to the senate that Caius Caesar, the sonof Caius, pontiff and propraetor, shall be a senator, and shall deliverhis opinions from the bench occupied by men of praetorian rank, andthat, on occasion of his offering himself for any magistracy, he shallbe considered of the same legal standing and qualification as if hehad been quaestor the preceding year. "

For what reason can there be, O conscript fathers, why we shouldnot wish him to arrive at the highest honours at as early an age aspossible? For when, by the laws fixing the age at which men might beappointed to the different magistracies our ancestors fixed a moremature age for the consulship, they were influenced by fears of theprecipitation of youth, Caius Caesar, at his first entrance into life, has shown us that, in the case of his eminent and unparalleled virtue, we have no need to wait for the progress of age. Therefore ourancestors, those old men, in the most ancient times, had no lawsregulating the age for the different offices, it was ambition whichcaused them to be passed many years afterwards, in order that theremight be among men of the same age different steps for arriving athonours. And it has often happened that a disposition of great naturalvirtue has been lost before it had any opportunity of benefiting therepublic. 

But among the ancients, the Rulii, the Decii, the Corvim, and manyothers, and in more modern times the elder Africanus and TitusFlaminius were made consuls very young, and performed such exploits asgreatly to extend the empire of the Roman people, and to embellish itsname. What more? Did not the Macedonian Alexander, having begun toperform mighty deeds from his earliest youth, die when he was only inhis thirty-third year? And that age is ten years less than that fixedby our laws for a man to be eligible for the consulship. From which itmay be plainly seen that the progress of virtue is often swifter thanthat of age. 

XVIII. For as to the fear which those men, who are enemies of Caesar, pretend to entertain, there is not the slightest reason to apprehendthat he will be unable to restrain and govern himself, or that he willbe so elated by the honours which he receives from us as to use hispower with out moderation. It is only natural, O conscript fathers, that the man who has learnt to appreciate real glory, and who feelsthat he is considered by the senate and by the Roman knights and thewhole Roman people a citizen who is dear to, and a blessing to therepublic, should think nothing whatever deserving of being compared tothis glory. Would that it had happened to Caius Caesar--the father, I mean--when he was a young man, to be beloved by the senate and byevery virtuous citizen, but, having neglected to aim at that, hewasted all the power of genius which he had in a most brilliantdegree, in a capricious pursuit of popular favour. Therefore, as hehad not sufficient respect for the senate and the virtuous part of thecitizens, he opened for himself that path for the extension of hispower, which the virtue of a free people was unable to bear. 

But the principles of his son are widely different; who is not onlybeloved by every one, but in the greatest degree by the most virtuousmen. In him is placed all our hope of liberty, from him already hasour safety been received, for him the highest honours are sought outand prepared. While therefore we are admiring his singular prudence, can we at the same time fear his folly? For what can be more foolishthan to prefer useless power, such influence as brings envy inits train, and a rash and slippery ambition of reigning, to real, dignified, solid glory? Has he seen this truth as a boy, and when hehas advanced in age will he cease to see it? "But he is an enemy tosome most illustrious and excellent citizens. " That circumstance oughtnot to cause any fear Caesar has sacrificed all those enmities to therepublic; he had made the republic his judge; he has made her thedirectress of all his counsels and actions. For he is come to theservice of the republic in order to strengthen her, not to overturnher. I am well acquainted with all the feelings of the young man:there is nothing dearer to him than the republic, nothing which heconsiders of more weight than your authority; nothing which he desiresmore than the approbation of virtuous men; nothing which he accountssweeter than genuine glory. 

Wherefore you not only ought not to fear anything from him, but youought to expect greater and better things still. Nor ought you toapprehend with respect to a man who has already gone forward torelease Decimus Brutus from a siege, that the recollection of hisdomestic injury will dwell in his bosom, and have more weight withhim than the safety of the city. I will venture even to pledge my ownfaith, O conscript fathers, to you, and to the Roman people, and tothe republic, which in truth, if no necessity compelled me to do so, I would not venture to do, and in doing which on slight grounds, Ishould be afraid of giving rise to a dangerous opinion of my rashnessin a most important business; but I do promise, and pledge myself, andundertake, O conscript fathers, that Caius Caesar will always be sucha citizen as he is this day, and as we ought above all things to wishand desire that he may turn out. 

XIX. And as this is the case, I shall consider that I have said enoughat present about Caesar. 

Nor do I think that we ought to pass over Lucius Egnatuleius, a mostgallant and wise and firm citizen, and one thoroughly attached to therepublic, in silence; but that we ought to give him our testimony tohis admirable virtue, because it was he who led the fourth legion toCaesar, to be a protection to the consuls, and senate, and people ofRome, and the republic. And for these acts I give my vote:

"That it be made lawful for Lucius Egnatuleius to stand for, and beelected to, and discharge the duties of any magistracy, three yearsbefore the legitimate time. "

And by this motion, O conscript fathers, Lucius Egnatuleius does notget so much actual advantage as honour. For in a case like this it isquite sufficient to be honourably mentioned. 

But concerning the army of Caius Caesar, I give my vote for the passingof a decree in this form:

"The senate decrees that the veteran soldiers who have defended andare defending [lacuna] of Caesar, pontiff [lacuna] and the authority ofthis order, should, and their children after them, have an exemptionfrom military service. And that Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius theconsuls, one or both of them, as they think fit, shall inquire whatland there is in those colonies in which the veteran soldiers havebeen settled, which is occupied in defiance of the provisions of theJulian law, in order that that may be divided among these veterans. That they shall institute a separate inquiry about the Campaniandistrict, and devise a plan for increasing the advantages enjoyed bythese veteran soldiers; and with respect to the Martial legion, andto the fourth legion, and to those soldiers of the second andthirty-fifth legions who have come over to Caius Pansa and AulusHirtius the consuls, and have given in their names, because theauthority of the senate and the liberty of the Roman people is andalways has been most dear to them, the senate decrees that they andtheir children shall have exemption from military service, except inthe case of any Gallic and Italian sedition; and decrees further, thatthose legions shall have their discharge when this war is terminated;and that whatever sum of money Caius Caesar, pontiff and propraetor, haspromised to the soldiers of those legions individually, shall be paidto them. And that Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius the consuls, one orboth of them, as it seems good to them, shall make an estimate of theland which can be distributed without injury to private individuals;and that land shall be given and assigned to the soldiers of theMartial legion and of the fourth legion, in the largest shares inwhich land has ever been given and assigned to soldiers. "

I have now spoken, O consuls, on every point concerning which you havesubmitted a motion to us; and if the resolutions which I have proposedbe decreed without delay, and seasonably, you will the more easilyprepare those measures which the present time and emergency demand. But instant action is necessary. And if we had adopted that earlier, we should, as I have often said, now have no war at all. 

THE SIXTH ORATION OF M. T CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS CALLED ALSOTHE SIXTH PHILIPPIC. ADDRESSED TO THE PEOPLE. 

THE ARGUMENT

In respect of the honours proposed by Cicero in the last speech thesenate agreed with him, voting to Octavius honours beyond any thatCicero had proposed. But they were much divided about the questionof sending an embassy to Antonius, and the consuls, seeing that amajority agreed with Cicero, adjourned the debate till the next day. The discussion lasted three days, and the senate would at last haveadopted all Cicero's measures if one of the tribunes, Salvius, had notput his veto on them. So that at last the embassy was ordered tobe sent, and Servius Sulpicius, Lucius Piso, and Lucius Philippus, appointed as the ambassadors, but they were charged merely toorder Antonius to abandon the siege of Mutina, and to desist fromhostilities against the province of Gaul, and further, to proceed toDecimus Brutus in Mutina, and to give him and his army the thanks ofthe senate and people. 

The length of the debates roused the curiosity of the people, who, being assembled in the forum to learn the result, called on Cicero tocome forth and give them an account of what had been done--on which hewent to the rostra, accompanied by Publius Appuleius the tribune, andrelated to them all that had passed in the following speech:

I. I imagine that you have heard, O Romans, what has been done in thesenate, and what has been the opinion delivered by each individual. For the matter which has been in discussion ever since the first ofJanuary, has been just brought to a conclusion, with less severityindeed than it ought to have been, but still in a manner notaltogether unbecoming. The war has been subjected to a delay, butthe cause has not been removed. Wherefore, as to the question whichPublius Appuleius--a man united to me by many kind offices and by theclosest intimacy, and firmly attached to your interests--has asked me, I will answer in such a manner that you may be acquainted with thetransactions at which you were not present. 

The cause which prompted our most fearless and excellent consuls tosubmit a motion on the first of January, concerning the general stateof the republic, arose from the decree which the senate passed by myadvice on the nineteenth of December. On that day, O Romans, werethe foundations of the republic first laid. For then, after a longinterval, the senate was free in such a manner that you too mightbecome free. On which day, indeed, --even if it had been to bring to methe end of my life, --I received a sufficient reward for my exertions, when you all with one heart and one voice cried out together, thatthe republic had been a second time saved by me. Stimulated by soimportant and so splendid a decision of yours in my favour, I cameinto the senate on the first of January, with the feeling that I wasbound to show my recollection of the character which you had imposedupon me, and which I had to sustain. 

Therefore, when I saw that a nefarious war was waged against therepublic, I thought that no delay ought to be interposed to ourpursuit of Marcus Antonius; and I gave my vote that we ought to pursuewith war that most audacious man, who, having committed many atrociouscrimes before, was at this moment attacking a general of the Romanpeople, and besieging your most faithful and gallant colony; and thata state of civil war ought to be proclaimed; and I said further, thatmy opinion was that a suspension of the ordinary forms of justiceshould be declared, and that the garb of war should be assumed bythe citizens, in order that all men might apply themselves with moreactivity and energy to avenging the injuries of the republic, if theysaw that all the emblems of a regular war had been adopted by thesenate. Therefore, this opinion of mine, O Romans, prevailed so muchfor three days, that although no division was come to, still all, except a very few, appeared inclined to agree with me. But to-day--Iknow not owing to what circumstance--the senate was more indulgent. For the majority decided on our making experiment, by means ofambassadors, how much influence the authority of the senate and yourunanimity will have upon Antonius. 

II. I am well aware, O Romans, that this decision is disapproved of byyou; and reasonably too. For to whom are we sending ambassadors? Isit not to him who, after having dissipated and squandered the publicmoney, and imposed laws on the Roman people by violence and inviolation of the auspices, --after having put the assembly of thepeople to flight and besieged the senate, sent for the legions fromBrundusium to oppress the republic? who, when deserted by them, hasinvaded Gaul with a troop of banditti? who is attacking Brutus? who isbesieging Mutina? How can you offer conditions to, or expect equityfrom, or send an embassy to, or, in short, have anything in commonwith, this gladiator? although, O Romans, it is not an embassy, but adenunciation of war if he does not obey. For the decree has been drawnup as if ambassadors were being sent to Hannibal. For men are sent toorder him not to attack the consul elect, not to besiege Mutina, notto lay waste the province, not to enlist troops, but to submit himselfto the power of the senate and people of Rome. No doubt he is alikely man to obey this injunction, and to submit to the power of theconscript fathers and to yours, who has never even had any masteryover himself. For what has he ever done that showed any discretion, being always led away wherever his lust, or his levity, or his frenzy, or his drunkenness has hurried him? He has always been under thedominion of two very dissimilar classes of men, pimps and robbers; heis so fond of domestic adulteries and forensic murders, that he wouldrather obey a most covetous woman than the senate and people of Rome. 

III. Therefore, I will do now before you what I have just done in thesenate. I call you to witness, I give notice, I predict beforehand, that Marcus Antonius will do nothing whatever of those things whichthe ambassadors are commissioned to command him to do; but that hewill lay waste the lands, and besiege Mutina and enlist soldiers, wherever he can. For he is a man who has at all times despised thejudgment and authority of the senate, and your inclinations and power. Will he do what it has been just now decreed that he shall do, --leadhis army back across the Rubicon, which is the frontier of Gaul, andyet at the same time not come nearer Rome than two hundred miles? willhe obey this notice? will he allow himself to be confined by the riverRubicon and by the limit of two hundred miles? Antonius is not thatsort of man. For if he had been, he would never have allowed mattersto come to such a pass, as for the senate to give him notice, asit did to Hannibal at the beginning of the Punic war not to attackSaguntum. But what ignominy it is to be called away from Mutina, andat the same time to be forbidden to approach the city as if he weresome fatal conflagration! what an opinion is this for the senateto have of a man! What? As to the commission which is given to theambassadors to visit Decimus Brutus and his soldiers, and to informthem that their excellent zeal in behalf of, and services done to therepublic, are acceptable to the senate and people of Rome, and thatthat conduct shall tend to their great glory and to their greathonour; do you think that Antonius will permit the ambassadors toenter Mutina? and to depart from thence in safety? He never will allowit, believe me. I know the violence of the man, I know his impudence, I know his audacity. 

Nor, indeed, ought we to think of him as of a human being, but as of amost ill-omened beast. And as this is the case, the decree whichthe senate has passed is not wholly improper. The embassy has someseverity in it; I only wish it had no delay. For as in the conduct ofalmost every affair slowness and procrastination are hateful, so aboveall things does this war require promptness of action. We must assistDecimus Brutus; we must collect all our forces from all quarters;we cannot lose a single hour in effecting the deliverance of sucha citizen without wickedness. Was it not in his power, if he hadconsidered Antonius a consul, and Gaul the province of Antonius, tohave given over the legions and the province to Antonius? and toreturn home himself? and to celebrate a triumph? and to be the firstman in this body to deliver his opinion, until he entered on hismagistracy? What was the difficulty of doing that? But as heremembered that he was Brutus, and that he was born for your freedom, not for his own tranquillity, what else did he do but--as I may almostsay--put his own body in the way to prevent Antonius from enteringGaul? Ought we then to send ambassadors to this man, or legions?However, we will say nothing of what is past. Let the ambassadorshasten, as I see that they are about to do. Do you prepare yourrobes of war. For it has been decreed, that, if he does not obeythe authority of the senate, we are all to betake our selves to ourmilitary dress. And we shall have to do so. He will never obey. And weshall lament that we have lost so many days, when we might have beendoing something. 

IV I have no fear, O Romans, that when Antonius hears that I haveasserted, both in the senate and in the assembly of the people, thathe never will submit himself to the power of the senate, he will, forthe sake of disproving my words, and making me to appeal to have hadno foresight, alter his behaviour and obey the senate. He will neverdo so. He will not grudge me this part of my reputation, he willprefer letting me be thought wise by you to being thought modesthimself. Need I say more? Even if he were willing to do so himself, do you think that his brother Lucius would permit him? It has beenreported that lately at Tibur, when Marcus Antonius appeared to him tobe wavering, he, Lucius, threatened his brother with death. And dowe suppose that the orders of the senate, and the words of theambassadors, will be listened to by this Asiatic gladiator? It will beimpossible for him to be separated from a brother, especially from oneof so much authority. For he is another Africanus among them. He isconsidered of more influence than Lucius Trebellius, of more thanTitus Plancus [lacuna] a noble young man. As for Plancus, who, havingbeen condemned by the unanimous vote of every one, amid theoverpowering applause of you yourselves, somehow or other got mixed upin this crowd, and returned with a countenance so sorrowful, that heappeared to have been dragged back rather than to have returned, hedespises him to such degree, as if he were interdicted from fire andwater. At times he says that that man who set the senate house on firehas no right to a place in the senate house. For at this moment he isexceedingly in love with Trebellius. He hated him some time ago, whenhe was opposing an abolition of debts, but now he delights in him, ever since he has seen that Trebellius himself cannot continue insafety without an abolition of debts. For I think that you have heard, O Romans, what indeed you may possibly have seen, that the suretiesand creditors of Lucius Trebellius meet every day. Oh confidence! forI imagine that Trebellius has taken this surname, what can be greaterconfidence than defrauding one's creditors? than flying from one'shouse? than, because of one's debts, being forced to go to war? Whathas become of the applauses which he received on the occasion ofCaesar's triumph, and often at the games? Where is the aedileship thatwas conferred on him by the zealous efforts of all good men? who isthere who does not now think that he acted virtuously by accident?

 * * * * *

V However, I return to your love and especial delight, LuciusAntonius, who has admitted you all to swear allegiance to him. Doyou deny it? is there any one of you who does not belong to a tribe?Certainly not. But thirty five tribes have adopted him for theirpatron. Do you again cry out against my statement? Look at that giltstatue of him on the left what is the inscription upon it? "The thirtyfive tribes to their patron. " Is then Lucius Antonius the patron ofthe Roman people? Plague take him! For I fully assent to your outcry. I won't speak of this bandit whom no one would choose to have fora client, but was there ever a man possessed of such influence, orillustrious for mighty deeds, as to dare to call himself the patron ofthe whole Roman people, the conqueror and master of all nations? Wesee in the forum a statue of Lucius Antonius, just as we see one ofQuintus Tremulus, who conquered the Hernici, before the temple ofCastor. Oh the incredible impudence of the man! Has he assumed allthis credit to himself, because as a mumillo at Mylasa he slew theThracian, his friend? How should we be able to endure him, if he hadfought in this forum before the eyes of you all? But, however, thisis but one statue. He has another erected by the Roman knights whoreceived horses from the state, [36] and they too inscribe on that, "To their patron". Who was ever before adopted by that order as itspatron? If it ever adopted any one as such, it ought to have adoptedme. What censor was ever so honoured? what imperator? "But hedistributed land among them". Shame on their sordid natures foraccepting it! shame on his dishonesty for giving it!

Moreover, the military tribunes who were in the army of Caesar haveerected him a statue. What order is that? There have been plenty oftribunes in our numerous legions in so many years. Among them he hasdistributed the lands of Semurium. The Campus Martius was all that wasleft, if he had not first fled with his brother. But this allotmentof lands was put an end to a little while ago, O Romans, by thedeclaration of his opinion by Lucius Caesar a most illustrious man anda most admirable senator. For we all agreed with him and annulled theacts of the septemvirs. So all the kindness of Nucula[37] goes fornothing, and the patron Antonius is at a discount. For those who hadtaken possession will depart with more equanimity. They had not beenat any expense, they had not yet furnished or stocked their domains, partly because they did not feel sure of their title, and partlybecause they had no money. 

But as for that splendid statue, concerning which, if the times werebetter, I could not speak without laughing, "To Lucius Antonius, patron of the middle of Janus"[38] Is it so? Is the middle of Janus aclient of Lucius Antonius? Who ever was found in that Janus who wouldhave lent Lucius Antonius a thousand sesterces?

VI. However, we have been spending too much time in trifles. Let usreturn to our subject and to the war. Although it was not whollyforeign to the subject for some characters to be thoroughlyappreciated by you, in order that you might in silence think over whothey were against whom you were to wage war. 

But I exhort you, O Romans, though perhaps other measures might havebeen wiser, still now to wait with calmness for the return of theambassadors. Promptness of action has been taken from our side, butstill some good has accrued to it. For when the ambassadors havereported what they certainly will report, that Antonius will notsubmit to you nor to the senate, who then will be so worthless acitizen as to think him deserving of being accounted a citizen? For atpresent there are men, few indeed, but still more than there ought tobe, or than the republic deserves that there should be, who speak inthis way, --"Shall we not even wait for the return of the ambassadors?"Certainly the republic itself will force them to abandon thatexpression and that pretence of clemency. On which account, to confessthe truth to you, O Romans, I have less striven to day, and labouredall the less to day, to induce the senate to agree with me indecreeing the existence of a seditious war, and ordering the apparelof war to be assumed. I preferred having my sentiments applauded byevery one in twenty days' time, to having it blamed to day by a few. Wherefore, O Romans, wait now for the return of the ambassadors, anddevour your annoyance for a few days. And when they do return, ifthey bring back peace, believe me that I have been desirous that theyshould, if they bring back war, then allow me the praise of foresight. Ought I not to be provident for the welfare of my fellow-citizens?Ought I not day and night to think of your freedom and of the safetyof the republic? For what do I not owe to you, O Romans, since youhave preferred for all the honours of the state a man who is his ownfather to the most nobly born men in the republic? Am I ungrateful?Who is less so? I, who, after I had obtained those honours, haveconstantly laboured in the forum with the same exertions as I usedwhile striving for them. Am I inexperienced in state affairs? Who hashad more practice than I, who have now for twenty years been wagingwar against impious citizens?

VII Wherefore, O Romans, with all the prudence of which I am master, and with almost more exertion than I am capable of, will I put forthmy vigilance and watchfulness in your behalf In truth, what citizenis there, especially in this rank in which you have placed me, soforgetful of your kindness, so unmindful of his country, so hostile tohis own dignity, as not to be roused and stimulated by your wonderfulunanimity? I, as consul, have held many assemblies of the people, I have been present at many others, I have never once seen one sonumerous as this one of yours now is. You have all one feeling, youhave all one desire, that of averting the attempts of Marcus Antoniusfrom the republic, of extinguishing his frenzy and crushing hisaudacity. All orders have the same wish. The municipal towns, thecolonies, and all Italy are labouring for the same end. Therefore youhave made the senate, which was already pretty firm of its own accord, firmer still by your authority. The time has come, O Romans, lateraltogether than for the honour of the Roman people it should havebeen, but still so that the things are now so ripe that they do notadmit of a moment's delay. There has been a sort of fatality, if Imay say so, which we have borne as it was necessary to bear it. Buthereafter if any disaster happens to us it will be of our own seeking. It is impossible for the Roman people to be slaves, that people whomthe immortal gods have ordained should rule over all nations. Mattersare now come to a crisis. We are fighting for our freedom. Either youmust conquer, O Romans, which indeed you will do if you continue toact with such piety and such unanimity, or you must do anything ratherthan become slaves. Other nations can endure slavery. Liberty is theinalienable possession of the Roman people. 

THE SEVENTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS CALLEDALSO THE SEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 

THE ARGUMENT

After the senate had decided on sending them, the ambassadorsimmediately set out, though Servius Sulpicius was in a very bad stateof health. In the meantime the partisans of Antonius in the city, withCalenus at their head were endeavouring to gain over the rest of thecitizens, by representing him as eager for an accommodation and theykept up a correspondence with him, and published such of his lettersas they thought favourable for their views. Matters being in thisstate, Cicero, at an ordinary meeting of the senate, made thefollowing speech to counteract the machinations of this party, and towarn the citizens generally of the danger of being deluded by them. 

I. We are consulted to-day about matters of small importance, butstill perhaps necessary, O conscript fathers. The consul submits amotion to us about the Appian road, and about the coinage, the tribuneof the people one about the Luperci. And although it seems easy tosettle such matters as those, still my mind cannot fix itself on suchsubjects, being anxious about more important matters. For our affairs, O conscript fathers, are come to a crisis, and are in a state ofalmost extreme danger. It is not without reason that I have alwaysfeared and never approved of that sending of ambassadors. And whattheir return is to bring us I know not, but who is there who does notsee with how much languor the expectation of it infects our minds? Forthose men put no restraint on themselves who grieve that the senatehas revived so as to entertain hopes of its former authority, andthat the Roman people is united to this our order, that all Italy isanimated by one common feeling, that armies are prepared, and generalsready for the armies, even already they are inventing replies forAntonius, and defending them. Some pretend that his demand is that allthe armies be disbanded. I suppose then we sent ambassadors to him, not that he should submit and obey this our body, but that he shouldoffer us conditions, impose laws upon us, order us to open Italy toforeign nations, especially while we were to leave him in safety fromwhom there is more danger to be feared than from any nation whatever. Others say that he is willing to give up the nearer Gaul to us, andthat he will be satisfied with the further Gaul. Very kind of him! inorder that from thence he may endeavour to bring not merely legions, but even nations against this city. Others say that he makes nodemands now but such as are quite moderate. Macedonia he callsabsolutely his own, since it was from thence that his brother Caiuswas recalled. But what province is there in which that firebrand maynot kindle a conflagration? Therefore those same men, like providentcitizens and diligent senators, say that I have sounded the charge, and they undertake the advocacy of peace. Is not this the way inwhich they argue? "Antonius ought not to have been irritated, he isa reckless and a bold man, there are many bad men besides him. " (Nodoubt, and they may begin and count themselves first). And they warnus to be on our guard against them. Which conduct then is it whichshows the more prudent caution chastising wicked citizens when one isable to do so, or fearing them?

II. And these men speak in this way, who on account of their triflingdisposition used to be considered friends of the people. From whichit may be understood that they in their hearts have at all times beendisinclined to a good constitution of the state, and they were notfriends of the people from inclination. For how comes it to pass thatthose men who were anxious to gratify the people in evil things, now, on an occasion which above all others concerns the people's interests, because the same thing would be also salutary for the republic, nowprefer being wicked to being friends of the people? This noble causeof which I am the advocate has made me popular, a man who (as youknow) have always opposed the rashness of the people. And those menare called, or rather they call themselves, consulars; though no manis worthy of that name except those who can support so high an honour. Will you favour an enemy? Will you let him send you letters about hishopes of success? Will you be glad to produce them? to read them? Willyou even give them to wicked citizens to take copies of? Will you thusraise their courage? Will you thus damp the hopes and valour of thegood? And then will you think yourself a consular, or a senator, oreven a citizen? Caius Pansa, a most fearless and virtuous consul, willtake what I say in good part. For I will speak with a dispositionmost friendly to him; but I should not consider him himself a consul, though a man with whom I am most intimate, unless he was such a consulas to devote all his vigilance, and cares, and thoughts to the safetyof the republic. 

Although long acquaintance, and habit, and a fellowship andresemblance in the most honourable pursuits, has bound us togetherfrom his first entrance into life; and his incredible diligence, proved at the time of the most formidable dangers of the civil war, showed that he was a favourer not only of my safety, but also of mydignity; still, as I said before, if he were not such a consul as Ihave described, I should venture to deny that he was a consul at all. But now I call him not only a consul, but the most excellent andvirtuous consul within my recollection; not but that there have beenothers of equal virtue and equal inclination, but still they have nothad an equal opportunity of displaying that virtue and inclination. But the opportunity of a time of most formidable change has beenafforded to his magnanimity, and dignity, and wisdom. And that is thetime when the consulship is displayed to the greatest advantage, whenit governs the republic during a time which, if not desirable, is atall events critical and momentous. And a more critical time than thepresent, O conscript fathers, never was. 

III. Therefore I, who have been at all times an adviser of peace, and who, though all good men always considered peace, and especiallyinternal peace, desirable, have desired it more than all of them;--forthe whole of the career of my industry has been passed in the forumand in the senate-house, and in warding off dangers from my friends;it is by this course that I have arrived at the highest honours, atmoderate wealth, and at any dignity which we may be thought to have: Itherefore, a nursling of peace, as I may call myself, I who, whateverI am, (for I arrogate nothing to myself, ) should undoubtedly not havebeen such without internal peace: I am speaking in peril: I shudder tothink how you will receive it, O conscript fathers: but still, out ofregard for my unceasing desire to support and increase your dignity, Ibeg and entreat you, O conscript fathers, although it may be a bitterthing to hear, or an incredible thing that it should be said by MarcusCicero, still to receive at first, without offence, what I am goingto say, and not to reject it before I have fully explained what itis;--I, who, I will say so over and over again, have always been apanegyrist, have always been an adviser of peace, do not wish to havepeace with Marcus Antonius. I approach the rest of my speech withgreat hope, O conscript fathers, since I have now passed by thatperilous point amid your silence. 

Why then do I not wish for peace? Because it would be shameful;because it would be dangerous; because it cannot possibly be real. Andwhile I explain these three points to you, I beg of you, O conscriptfathers, to listen to my words with the same kindness which youusually show to me. 

What is more shameful than inconsistency, fickleness, and levity, bothto individuals, and also to the entire senate? Moreover, what can bemore inconsistent than on a sudden to be willing to be united in peacewith a man whom you have lately adjudged to be an enemy, not by words, but by actions and by many formal decrees? Unless, indeed, when youwere decreeing honours to Caius Caesar, well-deserved indeed by andfairly due to him, but still unprecedented and never to be forgotten, for one single reason, --because he had levied an army against MarcusAntonius, --you were not judging Marcus Antonius to be an enemy; andunless Antonius was not pronounced an enemy by you, when the veteransoldiers were praised by your authority, for having followed Caesar;and unless you did not declare Antonius an enemy when you promisedexemptions and money and lands to those brave legions, because theyhad deserted him who was consul while he was an enemy. 

IV. What? when you distinguished with the highest praises Brutus, aman born under some omen, as it were, of his race and name, for thedeliverance of the republic, and his army, which was waging waragainst Antonius on behalf of the liberty of the Roman people, and themost loyal and admirable province of Gaul, did you not then pronounceAntonius an enemy? What? when you decreed that the consuls, one orboth of them, should go to the war, what war was there if Antonius wasnot an enemy? Why then was it that most gallant man, my own colleagueand intimate friend, Aulus Hirtius the consul, has set out? And inwhat delicate health he is; how wasted away! But the weak state of hisbody could not repress the vigour of his mind. He thought it fair, Isuppose, to expose to danger in defence of the Roman people that lifewhich had been preserved to him by their prayers. What? when youordered levies of troops to be made throughout all Italy, when yoususpended all exemptions from service, was he not by those stepsdeclared to be an enemy? You see manufactories of arms in the city;soldiers, sword in hand, are following the consul; they are inappearance a guard to the consul, but in fact and reality to us; allmen are giving in their names, not only without any shirking, butwith the greatest eagerness; they are acting in obedience to yourauthority. Has not Antonius been declared an enemy by such acts?

"Oh, but we have sent ambassadors to him. " Alas, wretched that I am!why am I compelled to find fault with the senate whom I have alwayspraised? Why? Do you think, O conscript fathers, that you have inducedthe Roman people to approve of the sending ambassadors? Do you notperceive, do you not hear, that the adoption of my opinion is demandedby them? that opinion which you, in a full house, agreed to the daybefore, though the day after you allowed yourselves to be brought downto a groundless hope of peace. Moreover, how shameful it is for thelegions to send out ambassadors to the senate, and the senate toAntonius! Although that is not an embassy; it is a denunciation thatdestruction is prepared for him if he do not submit to this order. What is the difference? At all events, men's opinions are unfavourableto the measure; for all men see that ambassadors have been sent, butit is not all who are acquainted with the terms of your decree. 

V. You must, therefore, preserve your consistency, your wisdom, yourfirmness, your perseverance. You must go back to the old-fashionedseverity, if at least the authority of the senate is anxious toestablish its credit, its honour, its renown, and its dignity, thingswhich this order has been too long deprived of. But there was sometime ago some excuse for it, as being oppressed; a miserable excuseindeed, but still a fair one; now there is none. We appeared to havebeen delivered from kingly tyranny; and afterwards we were oppressedmuch more severely by domestic enemies. We did indeed turn their armsaside; we must now wrest them from their hands. And if we cannot doso, (I will say what it becomes one who is both a senator and a Romanto say, ) let us die. For how just will be the shame, how great will bethe disgrace, how great the infamy to the republic, if Marcus Antoniuscan deliver his opinion in this assembly from the consular bench. For, to say nothing of the countless acts of wickedness committed by himwhile consul in the city, during which time he has squandered a vastamount of public money, restored exiles without any law, sold ourrevenues to all sorts of people, removed provinces from the empire ofthe Roman people, given men kingdoms for bribes, imposed laws on thecity by violence, besieged the senate, and, at other times, excludedit from the senate-house by force of arms;--to say nothing, I say, ofall this, do you not consider this, that he who has attacked Mutina, amost powerful colony of the Roman people--who has besieged a generalof the Roman people, who is consul elect--who has laid waste thelands, --do you not consider, I say, how shameful and iniquitous athing it would be for that man to be received into this order, bywhich he has been so repeatedly pronounced an enemy for these veryreasons?

I have said enough of the shamefulness of such a proceeding; I willnow speak next, as I proposed, of the danger of it; which, although itis not so important to avoid as shame, still offends the minds of thegreater part of mankind even more. 

VI. Will it then be possible for you to rely on the certainty of anypeace, when you see Antonius, or rather the Antonii, in the city?Unless, indeed, you despise Lucius: I do not despise even Caius. But, as I think, Lucius will be the dominant spirit, --for he is the patronof the five-and-thirty tribes, whose votes he took away by his law, bywhich he divided the magistracies in conjunction with Caius Caesar. He is the patron of the centuries of the Roman knights, which also hethought fit to deprive of the suffrages: he is the patron of the menwho have been military tribunes; he is the patron of the middle ofJanus. O ye gods! who will be able to support this man's power?especially when he has brought all his dependants into the lands. Whoever was the patron of all the tribes? and of the Roman knights? andof the military tribunes? Do you think that the power of even theGracchi was greater than that of this gladiator will be? whom I havecalled gladiator, not in the sense in which sometimes Marcus Antoniustoo is called gladiator, but as men call him who are speaking plainLatin. He has fought in Asia as a mirmillo. After having equipped hisown companion and intimate friend in the armour of a Thracian, he slewthe miserable man as he was flying; but he himself received a palpablewound, as the scar proves. 

What will the man who murdered his friend in this way, when he has anopportunity, do to an enemy? and if he did such a thing as this forthe fun of the thing, what do you think he will do when tempted by thehope of plunder? Will he not again meet wicked men in the decuries?will he not again tamper with those men who have received lands? willhe not again seek those who have been banished? will he not, in short, be Marcus Antonius; to whom, on the occasion of every commotion, therewill be a rush of all profligate citizens? Even if there be no oneelse except those who are with him now, and these who in this bodynow openly speak in his favour, will they be too small in number?especially when all the protection which we might have had from goodmen is lost, and when those men are prepared to obey his nod? But Iam afraid, if at this time we fail to adopt wise counsels, that thatparty will in a short time appear too numerous for us. Nor have I anydislike to peace; only I do dread war disguised under the name ofpeace. Wherefore, if we wish to enjoy peace we must first wage war. Ifwe shrink from war, peace we shall never have. 

VII. But it becomes your prudence, O conscript fathers, to provide asfar forward as possible for posterity. That is the object for which wewere placed in this garrison, and as it were on this watch-tower; thatby our vigilance and foresight we might keep the Roman people freefrom fear. It would be a shameful thing, especially in so clear a caseas this, for it to be notorious that wisdom was wanting to the chiefcouncil of the whole world. We have such consuls, there is sucheagerness on the part of the Roman people, we have such an unanimousfeeling of all Italy in our favour, such generals, and such armies, that the republic cannot possibly suffer any disaster without thesenate being in fault. I, for my part, will not be wanting. I willwarn you, I will forewarn you, I will give you notice, I will callgods and men to witness what I do really believe. Nor will I displaymy good faith alone, which perhaps may seem to be enough, but which ina chief citizen is not enough; I will exert all my care, and prudence, and vigilance. 

I have spoken about the danger. I will now proceed to prove to youthat it is not possible for peace to be firmly cemented; for of thepropositions which I promised to establish this is the last. 

VIII. What peace can there be between Marcus Antonius and (in thefirst place) the senate? with what face will he be able to look uponyou, and with what eyes will you, in turn, look upon him? Which of youdoes not hate him? which of you does not he hate? Come, are you theonly people who hate him; and whom he hates? What? what do you thinkof those men who are besieging Mutina, who are levying troops in Gaul, who are threatening your fortunes? will they ever be friends to you, or you to them? Will he embrace the Roman knights? For, suppose theirinclinations respecting, and their opinions of Antonius were very muchconcealed, when they stood in crowds on the steps of the templeof Concord, when they stimulated you to endeavour to recover yourliberty, when they demanded arms, the robe of war, and war, and who, with the Roman people, invited me to meet in the assembly of thepeople, will these men ever become friends to Antonius? will Antoniusever maintain peace with them? For why should I speak of the wholeRoman people? which, in a full and crowded forum, twice, with oneheart and one voice, summoned me into the assembly, and plainly showedtheir excessive eagerness for the recovery of their liberty. So, desirable as it was before to have the Roman people for our comrade, we now have it for our leader. 

What hope then is there that there ever can be peace between the Romanpeople and the men who are besieging Mutina and attacking a generaland army of the Roman people? Will there be peace with the municipaltowns, whose great zeal is shown by the decrees which they pass, bythe soldiers whom they furnish, by the sums which they promise, sothat in each town there is such a spirit as leaves no one room to wishfor a senate of the Roman people? The men of Firmium deserve to bepraised by a resolution of our order, who set the first example ofpromising money; we ought to return a complimentary answer to theMarrucini, who have passed a vote that all who evade military serviceare to be branded with infamy. These measures are adopted all overItaly. There is great peace between Antonius and these men, andbetween them and him! What greater discord can there possibly be? Andin discord civil peace cannot by any possibility exist. To say nothingof the mob, look at Lucius Nasidius, a Roman knight, a man of the veryhighest accomplishments and honour, a citizen always eminent, whosewatchfulness and exertions for the protection of my life I felt in myconsulship; who not only exhorted his neighbours to become soldiers, but also assisted them from his own resources; will it be possibleever to reconcile Antonius to such a man as this, a man whom we oughtto praise by a formal resolution of the senate? What? will it bepossible to reconcile him to Caius Caesar, who prevented him fromentering the city, or to Decimus Brutus, who has refused him entranceinto Gaul? Moreover, will he reconcile himself to, or look mercifullyon the province of Gaul, by which he has been excluded and rejected?You will see everything, O conscript fathers, if you do not take care, full of hatred and full of discord, from which civil wars arise. Donot then desire that which is impossible: and beware, I entreat you bythe immortal gods, O conscript fathers, that out of hope of presentpeace you do not lose perpetual peace. 

What now is the object of this oration? For we do not yet know whatthe ambassadors have done. But still we ought to be awake, erect, prepared, armed in our minds, so as not to be deceived by any civilor supplicatory language, or by any pretence of justice. He must havecomplied with all the prohibitions and all the commands which we havesent him, before he can demand anything. He must have desisted fromattacking Brutus and his army, and from plundering the cities andlands of the province of Gaul; he must have permitted the ambassadorsto go to Brutus, and led his army back on this side of the Rubicon, and yet not come within two hundred miles of this city. He must havesubmitted himself to the power of the senate and of the Roman people. If he does this, then we shall have an opportunity of deliberatingwithout any decision being forced upon us either way. If he does notobey the senate, then it will not be the senate that declares waragainst him, but he who will have declared it against the senate. 

But I warn you, O conscript fathers, the liberty of the Roman people, which is entrusted to you, is at stake. The life and fortune ofevery virtuous man is at stake, against which Antonius has long beendirecting his insatiable covetousness, united to his savage cruelty. Your authority is at stake, which you will wholly lose if you do notmaintain it now. Beware how you let that foul and deadly beast escapenow that you have got him confined and chained. You too, Pansa, Iwarn, (although you do not need counsel, for you have plenty of wisdomyourself: but still, even the most skilful pilots receive oftenwarnings from the passengers in terrible storms, ) not to allow thisvast and noble preparation which you have made to fall away tonothing. You have such an opportunity as no one ever had. It is inyour power so to avail yourself of this wise firmness of the senate, of this zeal of the equestrian order, of this ardour of the Romanpeople, as to release the Roman people from fear and danger for ever. As to the matters to which your motion before the senate refers, Iagree with Publius Servilius. 

 * * * * *

THE EIGHTH ORATION OF M T CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS CALLED ALSOTHE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC

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THE ARGUMENT

After the embassy to Antonius had left Rome the consuls zealouslyexerted themselves in preparing for war, in case he should reject thedemands of the ambassador. Hirtius, though in bad health, left Romefirst, at the head of an army containing, among others, the Martialand the fourth legions, intending to join Octavius and hoping with hisassistance to prevent his gaining any advantage over Brutus till Pansacould join them. And he gained some advantages over Antonius at once. 

About the beginning of February the two remaining ambassadors (forServius Sulpicius had died just as they arrived at Antonius's camp)returned, bringing word that Antonius would comply with none of thecommands of the senate, nor allow them to proceed to Decimus Brutus, and bringing also (contrary to their duty) demands from him, of whichthe principal were, that his troops were to be rewarded, all the actsof himself and Dolabella to be ratified as also all that he had donerespecting Caesar's papers, that no account was to be required of himof the money; in the temple of Ops and that he should have the furtherGaul with an army of six legions. 

Pansa summoned the senate to receive the report of the ambassador, when Cicero made a severe speech, proposing very vigorous measuresagainst Antonius, which, however, Galenus and his party were stillnumerous enough to mitigate very greatly; and even Pansa voted againsthim and in favour of the milder measures though they could not prevailagainst Cicero to have a second embassy sent to Antonius, and thoughCicero carried his point of ordering the citizens to assume the_sagum_, or robe of war which he also (waving his privilege as aman of consular rank) wore himself. The next day the senate met again, to draw upon form the decrees on which they had resolved theday before, when Cicero addressed the following speech to them, expostulating with them for their wavering the day before. 

I. Matters were carried on yesterday, O Caius Pansa, in a moreirregular manner than the beginning of your consulship required. Youdid not appear to me to make sufficient resistance to those men, towhom you are not in the habit of yielding. For while the virtue of thesenate was such as it usually is, and while all men saw that there waswar in reality, and some thought that the name ought to be kept back, on the division, your inclination inclined to lenity. The course whichwe proposed therefore was defeated, at your instigation, on accountof the harshness of the word war. That urged by Lucius Caesar, amost honourable man, prevailed, which, taking away that one harshexpression, was gentler in its language than in its real intention. Although he, indeed, before he delivered his opinion at all, pleadedhis relationship to Antonius in excuse for it. He had done the same inmy consulship, in respect of his sister's husband, as he did now inrespect of his sister's son, so that he was moved by the grief of hissister, and at the same time he wished to provide for the safety ofthe republic. 

And yet Caesar himself in some degree recommended you, O conscriptfathers, not to agree with him, when he said that he should haveexpressed quite different sentiments, worthy both of himself and ofthe republic, if he had not been hampered by his relationship toAntonius. He, then, is his uncle, are you his uncles too, you whovoted with him?

But on what did the dispute turn? Some men, in delivering theiropinion, did not choose to insert the word "war". They preferredcalling it "tumult, " being ignorant not only of the state of affairs, but also of the meaning of words. For there can be a "war" without a"tumult, " but there cannot be a "tumult" without a "war. " For what isa "tumult, " but such a violent disturbance that an unusual alarm isengendered by it? from which indeed the name "tumult"[39] is derived. Therefore, our ancestors spoke of the Italian "tumult, " which was adomestic one, of the Gallic "tumult, " which was on the frontier ofItaly, but they never spoke of any other. And that a "tumult" is amore serious thing than a "war" may be seen from this, that during awar exemptions from military service are valid, but in a tumult theyare not. So that it is the fact, as I have said, that war can existwithout a tumult, but a tumult cannot exist without a war. In truth, as there is no medium between war and peace, it is quite plain that atumult, if it be not a sort of war, must be a sort of peace; and whatmore absurd can be said or imagined? However, we have said too muchabout a word; let us rather look to the facts, O conscript fathers, the appreciation of which, I know, is at times injured by too muchattention being paid to words. 

II. We are unwilling that this should appear to be a war. What isthe object, then, of our giving authority to the municipal townsand colonies to exclude Antonius? of our authorizing soldiers to beenlisted without any force, without the terror of any fine, of theirown inclination and eagerness? of permitting them to promise money forthe assistance of the republic? For if the name of war be taken away, the zeal of the municipal towns will be taken away too. And theunanimous feeling of the Roman people which at present pours itselfinto our cause, if we cool upon it, must inevitably be damped. 

But why need I say more? Decimus Brutus is attacked. Is not that war?Mutina is besieged. Is not even that war? Gaul is laid waste. Whatpeace can be more assured than this? Who can think of calling thatwar? We have sent forth a consul, a most gallant man, with an army, who, though he was in a weak state from a long and serious illness, still thought he ought not to make any excuse when he was summoned tothe protection of the republic. Caius Caesar, indeed, did not wait forour decrees; especially as that conduct of his was not unsuited to hisage. He undertook war against Antonius of his own accord; for therewas not yet time to pass a decree; and he saw that, if he let slip theopportunity of waging war, when the republic was crushed it would beimpossible to pass any decrees at all. They and their arms, then, arenow at peace. He is not an enemy whose garrison Hirtius has drivenfrom Claterna; he is not an enemy who is in arms resisting a consul, and attacking a consul elect; and those are not the words of an enemy, nor is that warlike language, which Pansa read just now out of hiscolleague's letters: "I drove out the garrison. " "I got possession ofClaterna. " "The cavalry were routed. " "A battle was fought. " "A goodmany men were slain. " What peace can be greater than this? Levies oftroops are ordered throughout all Italy; all exemptions from serviceare suspended; the robe of war is to be assumed to-morrow, the consulhas said that he shall come down to the senate house with an armedguard. 

Is not this war? Ay, it is such a war as has never been. For in allother wars, and most especially in civil wars, it was a difference asto the political state of the republic which gave rise to the contest. Sylla contended against Sulpicius about the force of laws which Syllasaid had been passed by violence. Cinna warred against Octaviusbecause of the votes of the new citizens. Again, Sylla was at variancewith Cinna and Marius, in order to prevent unworthy men from attainingpower, and to avenge the cruel death of most illustrious men. Thecauses of all these wars arose from the zeal of different parties, forwhat they considered the interest of the republic. Of the last civilwar I cannot bear to speak. I do not understand the cause of it, Idetest the result. 

III. This is the fifth civil war, (and all of them have fallen uponour times, ) the first which has not only not brought dissensionsand discord among the citizens, but which has been signalised byextraordinary unanimity and incredible concord. All of them have thesame wish, all defend the same objects, all are inspired with the samesentiments. When I say all, I except those whom no one thinks worthyof being citizens at all. What, then, is the cause of war, and whatis the object aimed at? We are defending the temples of the immortalgods, we are defending the walls of the city, we are defending thehomes and habitations of the Roman people, the household gods, thealtars, the hearths and the sepulchres of our forefathers, we aredefending our laws, our courts of justice, our freedom, our wives, ourchildren, and our country. On the other hand, Marcus Antonius laboursand fights in order to throw into confusion and overturn all thesethings, and hopes to have reason to think the plunder of the republicsufficient cause for the war, while he squanders part of our fortunes, and distributes the rest among his parricidal followers. 

While, then, the motives for war are so different, a most miserablecircumstance is what that fellow promises to his band of robbers. Inthe first place our houses, for he declares that he will divide thecity among them, and after that he will lead them out at whatever gateand settle them on whatever lands they please. All the Caphons, [40]all the Saxas, and the other plagues which attend Antonius, aremarking out for themselves in their own minds most beautiful houses, and gardens, and villas, at Tusculum and Alba; and those clownishmen--if indeed they are men, and not rather brute beasts--are borne onin their empty hopes as far as the waters and Puteoli. So Antoniushas something to promise to his followers. What can we do? Have weanything of the sort? May the gods grant us a better fate! for ourexpress object is to prevent any one at all from hereafter makingsimilar promises. I say this against my will, still I must sayit;--the auction sanctioned by Caesar, O conscript fathers, givesmany wicked men both hope and audacity. For they saw some men becomesuddenly rich from having been beggars. Therefore, those men who arehanging over our property, and to whom Antonius promises everything, are always longing to see an auction. What can we do? What do wepromise our soldiers? Things much better and more honourable. Forpromises to be earned by wicked actions are pernicious both to thosewho expect them, and to those who promise them. We promise to oursoldiers freedom, rights, laws, justice, the empire of the world, dignity, peace, tranquillity. The promises then of Antonius arebloody, polluted, wicked, odious to gods and men, neither lasting norsalutary; ours, on the other hand, are honourable, upright, glorious, full of happiness, and full of piety. 

IV. Here also Quintus Fufius, a brave and energetic man, and a friendof mine, reminds me of the advantages of peace. As if, if it werenecessary to praise peace, I could not do it myself quite as well ashe. For is it once only that I have defended peace? Have I not at alltimes laboured for tranquillity? which is desirable for all goodmen, but especially for me. For what course could my industry pursuewithout forensic causes, without laws, without courts of justice? andthese things can have no existence when civil peace is taken away. ButI want to know what you mean, O Calenus? Do you call slavery peace?Our ancestors used to take up arms not merely to secure their freedom, but also to acquire empire; you think that we ought to throw away ourarms, in order to become slaves. What juster cause is there for wagingwar than the wish to repel slavery? in which, even if one's master benot tyrannical, yet it is a most miserable thing that he should beable to be so if he chooses. In truth, other causes are just, this isa necessary one. Unless, perhaps, you think that this does not applyto you, because you expect that you will be a partner in the dominionof Antonius. And there you make a two-fold mistake: first of all, inpreferring your own to the general interest; and in the next place, inthinking that there is anything either stable or pleasant in kinglypower. Even if it has before now been advantageous to you, it will notalways be so. Moreover, you used to complain of that former master, who was a man; what do you think you will do when your master is abeast? And you say that you are a man who have always been desirousof peace, and have always wished for the preservation of all thecitizens. Very honest language; that is, if you mean all citizens whoare virtuous, and useful, and serviceable to the republic; but if youwish those who are by nature citizens, but by inclination enemies, tobe saved, what difference is there between you and them? Your father, indeed, with whom I as a youth was acquainted, when he was an old man, --a man of rigid virtue and wisdom, --used to give the greatest praiseof all citizens who had ever lived to Publius Nasica, who slewTiberius Gracchus. By his valour, and wisdom, and magnanimity hethought that the republic had been saved. What am I to say? Havewe received any other doctrine from our fathers? Therefore, thatcitizen--if you had lived in those times--would not have been approvedof by you, because he did not wish all the citizens to be safe. "Because Lucius Opimius the consul has made a speech concerning therepublic, the senators have thus decided on that matter, that Opimiusthe consul shall defend the republic. " The senate adopted thesemeasures in words, Opimius followed them up by his arms. Should youthen, if you had lived in those times, have thought him a hasty or acruel citizen? or should you have thought Quintus Metellus one, whosefour sons were all men of consular rank? or Publius Lentulus the chiefof the senate, and many other admirable men, who, with Lucius Opimiusthe consul, took arms, and pursued Gracchus to the Aventine? and inthe battle which ensued, Lentulus received a severe wound, Gracchuswas plain, and so was Marcus Fulvius, a man of consular rank, and histwo youthful sons. Those men, therefore, are to be blamed; for theydid not wish all the citizens to be safe. 

V. Let us come to instances nearer our own time. The senate entrustedthe defence of the republic to Caius Marius and Lucius Valerius, theconsuls; Lucius Saturninus, a tribune of the people, and Caius Glauciathe praetor, were slain. On that day, all the Scauri, and Metelli, andClaudii, and Catuli, and Scaevolae, and Crassi took arms. Do you thinkeither those consuls or those other most illustrious men deserving ofblame? I myself wished Catiline to perish. Did you who wish every oneto be safe, wish Catiline to be safe? There is this difference, OCalenus, between my opinion and yours. I wish no citizen to commitsuch crimes as deserve to be punished with death. You think that, evenif he has committed them, still he ought to be saved. If there isanything in our own body which is injurious to the rest of the body, we allow that to be burnt and cut out, in order that a limb may belost in preference to the whole body. And so in the body of therepublic, whatever is rotten must be cut off in order that the wholemay be saved. Harsh language! This is much more harsh, "Let theworthless, and wicked and impious be saved, let the innocent, thehonourable, the virtuous, the whole republic be destroyed. " In thecase of one individual, O Quintus Fufius, I confess that you saw morethan I did. I thought Publius Clodius a mischievous, wicked, lustful, impious, audacious, criminal citizen. You, on the other hand, calledhim religious, temperate, innocent, modest; a citizen to be preservedand desired. In this one particular I admit that you had greatdiscernment, and that I made a great mistake. For as for your sayingthat I am in the habit of arguing against you with ill-temper, thatis not the case. I confess that I argue with vehemence, but not withill-temper. I am not in the habit of getting angry with my friendsevery now and then, not even if they deserve it. Therefore, I candiffer from you without using any insulting language, though notwithout feeling the greatest grief of mind. For is the dissensionbetween you and me a trifling one, or on a trifling subject? Is itmerely a case of my favouring this man, and you that man? Yes; Iindeed favour Decimus Brutus, you favour Marcus Antonius; I wish acolony of the Roman people to be preserved, you are anxious that itshould be stormed and destroyed. 

VI. Can you deny this, when you interpose every sort of delaycalculated to weaken Brutus, and to improve the position of Antonius?For how long will you keep on saying that you are desirous of peace?Matters are progressing rapidly; the works have been carried on;severe battles are taking place. We sent three chief men of the cityto interpose. Antonius has despised, rejected, and repudiated them. And still you continue a persevering defender of Antonius. AndCalenus, indeed, in order that he may appear a more conscientioussenator, says that he ought not to be a friend to him; since, thoughAntonius was under great obligations to him, he still had actedagainst him. See how great is his affection for his country. Though heis angry with the individual, still he defends Antonius for the sakeof his country. 

When you are so bitter, O Quintus Fufius, against the people ofMarseilles, I cannot listen to you with calmness. For how long are yougoing to attack Marseilles? Does not even a triumph put an end tothe war? in which was carried an image of that city, without whoseassistance our forefathers never triumphed over the Transalpinenations. Then, indeed, did the Roman people groan. Although they hadtheir own private griefs because of their own affairs, still therewas no citizen who thought the miseries of this most loyal cityunconnected with himself. Caesar himself, who had been the mostangry of all men with them, still, on account of the unusually highcharacter and loyalty of that city, was every day relaxing somethingof his displeasure. And is there no extent of calamity by which sofaithful a city can satiate you? Again, perhaps, you will say that Iam losing my temper. But I am speaking without passion, as I alwaysdo, though not without great indignation. I think that no man can bean enemy to that city, who is a friend to this one. What your objectis, O Calenus, I cannot imagine. Formerly we were unable to deter youfrom devoting yourself to the gratification of the people; now we areunable to prevail on you to show any regard for their interests. Ihave argued long enough with Fufius, saying everything without hatred, but nothing without indignation. But I suppose that a man who can bearthe complaint of his son in law with indifference, will bear that ofhis friend with great equanimity. 

VII. I come now to the rest of the men of consular rank of whom thereis no one, (I say this on my own responsibility, ) who is not connectedwith me in some way or other by kindnesses conferred or received, somein a great, some in a moderate degree, but everyone to some extent orother. What a disgraceful day was yesterday to us! to us consulars, Imean. Are we to send ambassadors again? What? would he make a truce?Before the very face and eyes of the ambassadors he battered Mutinawith his engines. He displayed his works and his defences to theambassadors. The siege was not allowed one moment's breathing time, not even while the ambassadors should be present. Send ambassadors tothis man! What for? in order to have great fears for their return?In truth, though on the previous occasion I had voted againstthe ambassadors being decreed, still I consoled myself with thisreflection, that, when they had returned from Antonius despised andrejected, and had reported to the senate not merely that he had notwithdrawn from Gaul, as we had voted that he should, but that he hadnot even retired from before Mutma, and that they had not been allowedto proceed on to Decimus Brutus, all men would be inflamed with hatredand stimulated by indignation, so that we should reinforce DecimusBrutus with arms, and horses, and men. But we have become even morelanguid since we have become acquainted with, not only the audacityand wickedness of Antonius, but also with his indolence and pride. Would that Lucius Caesar were in health, that Servius Sulpicius werealive. This cause would be pleaded much better by these men, than itis now by me single handed. What I am going to say I say with grief, rather than by way of insult. We have been deserted--we have, I say, been deserted, O conscript fathers, by our chiefs. But, as I haveoften said before, all those who in a time of such danger haveproper and courageous sentiments shall be men of consular rank. Theambassadors ought to have brought us back courage, they have broughtus back fear. Not, indeed, that they have caused me any fear--let themhave as high an opinion as they please of the man to whom they weresent; from whom they have even brought back commands to us. 

VIII. O ye immortal gods! where are the habits and virtues of ourforefathers? Caius Popillius, in the time of our ancestors, when hehad been sent as ambassador to Antiochus the king, and had given himnotice, in the words of the senate, to depart from Alexandria, whichhe was besieging, on the kings seeking to delay giving his answer, drew a line round him where he was standing with his rod, and statedthat he should report him to the senate if he did not answer him asto what he intended to do before he moved out of that line whichsurrounded him. He did well for he had brought with him thecountenance of the senate and the authority of the Roman people, andif a man does not obey that, we are not to receive commands from himin return, but he is to be utterly rejected. Am I to receive commandsfrom a man who despises the commands of the senate? Or am I to thinkthat he has anything in common with the senate, who besieges a generalof the Roman people in spite of the prohibition of the senate? Butwhat commands they are! With what arrogance, with what stupidity, with what insolence are they conceived! But what made him charge ourambassadors with them when he was sending Cotyla to us, the ornamentand bulwark of his friends, a man of aedilitian rank? if, indeed, hereally was an aedile at the time when the public slaves flogged himwith thongs at a banquet by command of Antonius. 

But what modest commands they are! We must be non-hearted men, O conscript fathers, to deny anything to this man! "I give up bothprovinces, " says he, "I disband my army, I am willing to become aprivate individual. " For these are his very words. He seems tobe coming to himself. "I am willing to forget everything, to bereconciled to everybody. " But what does he add? "If you give booty andland to my six legions, to my cavalry, and to my praetorian cohort. "He even demands rewards for those men for whom, if he were to demandpardon, he would be thought the most impudent of men. He adds further, "Those men to whom the lands have been given which he himself andDolabella distributed, are to retain them. " This is the Campanianand Leontine district, both which our ancestors considered a certainresource in times of scarcity. 

IX. He is protecting the interests of his buffoons and gamesters andpimps. He is protecting Capho's and Sasu's interests too, pugnaciousand muscular centurions, whom he placed among his troops of male andfemale buffoons. Besides all this, he demands "that the decrees ofhimself and his colleague concerning Caesar's writings and memorandaare to stand. " Why is he so anxious that every one should have what hehas bought, if he who sold it all has the price which he received forit? "And that his accounts of the money in the temple of Ops are notto be meddled with. " That is to say, that those seven hundred millionsof sesterces are not to be recovered from him. "That the septemviriare to be exempt from blame or from prosecution for what they havedone. " It was Nucula, I imagine, who put him in mind of that, he wasafraid, perhaps, of losing so many clients. He also wishes to makestipulations in favour of "those men who are with him who may havedone anything against the laws. " He is here taking care of Mustela andTiro, he is not anxious about himself. For what has he done? has heever touched the public money, or murdered a man, or had armed menabout him? But what reason has he for taking so much trouble aboutthem? For he demands, "that his own judiciary law be not abrogated. "And if he obtains that, what is there that he can fear? can he beafraid that any one of his friends may be convicted by Cydas, orLysiades, or Curius? However, he does not press us with many moredemands. "I give up, " says he, "Gallia Togata; I demand GalliaComata"[41]--he evidently wishes to be quite at his ease--'with sixlegions, and those made up to their full complement out of the armyof Decimus Brutus, --not only out of the troops whom he has enlistedhimself; "and he is to keep possession of it as long as Marcus Brutusand Carus Cassius, as consuls, or as proconsuls, keep possession oftheir provinces. " In the comitia held by him, his brother Carus (forit is his year) has already been repulsed. "And I myself, " says he, "am to retain possession of my province five years. " But that isexpressly forbidden by the law of Caesar, and you defend the acts ofCaesar. 

X. Were you, O Lucius Piso, and you, O Lucius Philippus, you chiefsof the city, able, I will not say to endure in your minds but even tolisten with your ears to these commands of his? But, I suspect therewas some alarm at work, nor, while in his power, could you feel asambassadors, or as men of consular rank, nor could you maintain ourown dignity, or that of the republic. And nevertheless, somehow orother, owing to some philosophy, I suppose, you did what I could nothave done, --you returned without any very angry feelings. MarcusAntonius paid you no respect, though you were most illustrious men, ambassadors of the Roman people. As for us, what concessions did notwe make to Cotyla the ambassador of Marcus Antonius? though it wasagainst the law for even the gates of the city to be opened to him, yet even this temple was opened to him. He was allowed to enter thesenate, here yesterday he was taking down our opinions and every wordwe said in his note books, and men who had been preferred to thehighest honours sold themselves to him in utter disregard of their owndignity. 

O ye immortal gods! how great an enterprise is it to uphold thecharacter of a leader in the republic, for it requires one to beinfluenced not merely by the thoughts but also by the eyes of thecitizens. To take to one's house the ambassador of an enemy, to admithim to one's chamber, even to confer apart with him, is the act of aman who thinks nothing of his dignity, and too much of his danger. Butwhat is danger? For if one is engaged in a contest where everything isat stake, either liberty is assured to one if victorious, or deathif defeated, the former of which alternatives is desirable, and thelatter some time or other inevitable. But a base flight from deathis worse than any imaginable death. For I will never be induced tobelieve that there are men who envy the consistency or diligence ofothers, and who are indignant at the unceasing desire to assist therepublic being approved by the senate and people of Rome. That is whatwe were all bound to do, and that was not only in the time of ourancestors, but even lately, the highest praise of men of consularrank, to be vigilant, to be anxious, to be always either thinking, ordoing, or saying something to promote the interests of the republic. 

I, O conscript fathers, recollect that Quintus Scaevola the augur, inthe Marsic war, when he was a man of extreme old age, and quite brokendown in constitution, every day, as soon as it was daylight, used togive every one an opportunity of consulting him, nor, throughout allthat war, did any one ever see him in bed, and, though old and weak, he was the first man to come into the senate house. I wish, above allthings, that those who ought to do so would imitate his industry, and, next to that, I wish that they would not envy the exertions ofanother. 

XI. In truth, O conscript fathers, now we have begun to entertainhopes of liberty again, after a period of six years, during which wehave been deprived of it, having endured slavery longer than prudentand industrious prisoners usually do, what watchfulness, what anxiety, what exertions ought we to shrink from, for the sake of delivering theRoman people? In truth, O conscript fathers, though men who have hadthe honours conferred on them that we have, usually wear their gowns, while the rest of the city is in the robe of war, still I decided thatat such a momentous crisis, and when the whole republic was in sodisturbed a state, we would not differ in our dress from you and therest of the citizens. For we men of consular rank are not in this warconducting ourselves in such a manner that the Roman people will belikely to look with equanimity on the ensigns of our honour, when someof us are so cowardly as to have cast away all recollection of thekindnesses which they have received from the Roman people, some are sodisaffected to the republic that they openly allege that they favourthis enemy, and easily bear having our ambassadors despised andinsulted by Antonius, while they wish to support the ambassador sentby Antonius. For they said that he ought not to be preventedfrom returning to Antonius, and they proposed an amendment to myproposition of not receiving him. Well, I will submit to them. LetVarius return to his general, but on condition that he never returnsto Rome. And as to the others, if they abandon their errors and returnto their duty to the republic, I think they may be pardoned and leftunpunished. 

Therefore, I give my vote, "That of those men who are with MarcusAntonius, those who abandon his army, and come over either to CaiusPansa or Aulus Hirtius the consuls; or to Decimus Brutus, imperatorand consul elect, or to Caius Caesar, propraetor, before the first ofMarch next, shall not be liable to prosecution for having been withAntonius. That, if any one of those men who are now with Antoniusshall do anything which appears entitled to honour or to reward, CaiusPansa and Aulus Hirtius the consuls, one or both of them, shall, ifthey think fit, make a motion to the senate respecting that man'shonour or reward, at the earliest opportunity. That, if, after thisresolution of the senate, any one shall go to Antonius except LuciusVarius, the senate will consider that that man has acted as an enemyto the republic. "

 * * * * *

THE NINTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. CALLED ALSOTHE NINTH PHILIPPIO. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Servius Sulpicius, as has been already said, had died on his embassyto Marcus Antonius, before Mutina; and the day after the deliveryof the preceding speech, Pansa again called the senate togetherto deliberate on the honours to be paid to his memory. He himselfproposed a public funeral, a sepulchre, and a statue. Serviliusopposed the statue, as due only to those who had been slain byviolence while in discharge of their duties as ambassadors. Cicerodelivered the following oration in support of Pansa's proposition, which was carried. [42]

I. I wish, O conscript fathers, that the immortal gods had granted tous to return thanks to Servius Sulpicius while alive, rather than thusto devise honours for him now that he is dead. Nor have I any doubt, but that if that man had been able himself to give us his report ofthe proceedings of his embassy, his return would have been acceptableto you and salutary to the republic. Not that either Lucius Piso orLucius Philippus have been deficient in either zeal or care in theperformance of so important a duty and so grave a commission; but, asServius Sulpicius was superior in age to them, and in wisdom to everyone, he, being suddenly taken from the business, left the wholeembassy crippled and enfeebled. 

But if deserved honours have been paid to any ambassador after death, there is no one by whom they can be found to have been ever more fullydeserved than by Servius Sulpicius. The rest of those men who havedied while engaged on an embassy, have gone forth, subject indeed tothe usual uncertainties of life, but without any especial danger orfear of death. Servius Sulpicius set out with some hope indeed ofreaching Antonius, but with none of returning. But though he was sovery ill that if any exertion were added to his bad state of health, he would have no hope of himself, still he did not refuse to try, even while at his last gasp, to be of some service to the republic. Therefore neither the severity of the winter, nor the snow, nor thelength of the journey, nor the badness of the roads, nor his dailyincreasing illness, delayed him. And when he had arrived where hemight meet and confer with the man to whom he had been sent, hedeparted this life in the midst of his care and consideration as tohow he might best discharge the duty which he had undertaken. 

As therefore, O Caius Pansa, you have done well in other respects, soyou have acted admirably in exhorting us this day to pay honour toServius Sulpicius, and in yourself making an eloquent oration in hispraise. And after the speech which we have heard from you, I shouldhave been content to say nothing beyond barely giving my vote, if Idid not think it necessary to reply to Publius Servilius, who hasdeclared his opinion that this honour of a statue ought to begranted to no one who has not been actually slain with a sword whileperforming the duties of his embassy. But I, O conscript fathers, consider that this was the feeling of our ancestors, that theyconsidered that it was the cause of death, and not the manner of it, which was a proper subject for inquiry. In fact, they thought fit thata monument should be erected to any man whose death was caused by anembassy, in order to tempt men in perilous wars to be the more boldin undertaking the office of an ambassador. What we ought to do, therefore, is, not to scrutinise the precedents afforded by ourancestors, but to explain their intentions from which the precedentsthemselves arose. 

II. Lar Tolumnius, the king of Veii, slew four ambassadors of theRoman people, at Fidenae, whose statues were standing in the rostratill within my recollection. The honour was well deserved. For ourancestors gave those men who had encountered death in the cause of therepublic an imperishable memory in exchange for this transitory life. We see in the rostra the statue of Cnaeus Octavius, an illustrious andgreat man, the first man who brought the consulship into that family, which afterwards abounded in illustrious men. There was no one thenwho envied him, because he was a new man; there was no one who did nothonour his virtue. But yet the embassy of Octavius was one in whichthere was no suspicion of danger. For having been sent by the senateto investigate the dispositions of kings and of free nations, andespecially to forbid the grandson of king Antiochus, the one who hadcarried on war against our forefathers, to maintain fleets and to keepelephants, he was slain at Laodicea, in the gymnasium, by a man of thename of Leptines. On this a statue was given to him by our ancestorsas a recompense for his life, which might ennoble his progeny for manyyears, and which is now the only memorial left of so illustrious afamily. But in his case, and in that of Tullus Cluvius, [43] and LuciusRoseius, and Spurius Antius, and Caius Fulcinius, who were slain bythe king of Veii, it was not the blood that was shed at their death, but the death itself which was encountered in the service of therepublic, which was the cause of their being thus honoured. 

III. Therefore, O conscript fathers, if it had been chance which hadcaused the death of Servius Sulpicius, I should sorrow indeed oversuch a loss to the republic, but I should consider him deserving ofthe honour, not of a monument, but of a public mourning. But, as itis, who is there who doubts that it was the embassy itself whichcaused his death? For he took death away with him; though, if hehad remained among us, his own care, and the attention of his mostexcellent son and his most faithful wife, might have warded it off. But he, as he saw that, if he did not obey your authority, he shouldnot be acting like himself; but that if he did obey, then that duty, undertaken, for the welfare of the republic, would be the end of hislife; preferred dying at a most critical period of the republic, toappearing to have done less service to the republic than he might havedone. 

He had an opportunity of recruiting his strength and taking care ofhimself in many cities through which his journey lay. He was met bythe liberal invitation of many entertainers as his dignity deserved, and the men too who were sent with him exhorted him to take rest, andto think of his own health. But he, refusing all delay, hasteningon eager to perform your commands, persevered in this his constantpurpose, in spite of the hindrances of his illness And as Antonius wasabove all things disturbed by his arrival, because the commands whichwere laid upon him by your orders had been drawn up by the authorityand wisdom of Servius Sulpicius, he showed plainly how he hated thesenate by the evident joy which he displaced at the death of theadviser of the senate. 

Leptines then did not kill Octavius, nor did the king of Veii slaythose whom I have just named, more clearly than Antonius killedServius Sulpicius. Surely he brought the man death, who was the causeof his death. Wherefore, I think it of consequence, in order thatposterity may recollect it, that there should be a record of what thejudgment of the senate was concerning this war. For the statue itselfwill be a witness that the war was so serious an one, that the deathof an ambassador in it gained the honour of an imperishable memorial. 

IV. But if, O conscript fathers, you would only recollect the excusesalleged by Servius Sulpicius why he should not be appointed to thisembassy, then no doubt will be left on your minds that we ought torepair by the honour paid to the dead the injury which we did to himwhile living. For it is you, O conscript fathers (it is a grave chargeto make, but it must be uttered, ) it is you, I say, who have deprivedServius Sulpicius of life. For when you saw him pleading his illnessas an excuse more by the truth of the fact than by any laboured pleaof words, you were not indeed cruel, (for what can be more impossiblefor this order to be guilty of than that, ) but as you hoped thatthere was nothing that could not be accomplished by his authority andwisdom, you opposed his excuse with great earnestness, and compelledthe man, who had always thought your decisions of the greatest weight, to abandon his own opinion. But when there was added the exhortationof Pansa, the consul, delivered with more weight than the ears ofServius Sulpicius had learnt to resist, then at last he led me and hisown son aside, and said that he was bound to prefer your authority tohis own life. And we, admiring his virtue, did not dare to opposehis determination. His son was moved with extraordinary piety andaffection, and my own grief did not fall far short of his agitation, but each of us was compelled to yield to his greatness of mind, and tothe dignity of his language, when he, indeed, amid the loud praisesand congratulations of you all, promised to do whatever you wished, and not to avoid the danger which might be inclined by the adoption ofthe opinion of which he himself had been the author. And we the nextday escorted him early in the morning as he hastened forth to executeyour commands. And he, in truth, when departing, spoke with me in sucha manner that his language seemed like an omen of his fate. 

V. Restore then, O conscript fathers, life to him from whom you havetaken it. For the life of the dead consists in the recollectioncherished of them by the living. Take ye care that he, whom youwithout intending it sent to his death, shall from you receiveimmortality. And if you by your decree erect a statue to him in therostia, no forgetfulness of posterity will ever obscure the memory ofhis embassy. For the remainder of the life of Servius Sulpicius willbe recommended to the eternal recollection of all men by many andsplendid memorials. The praise of all mortals will for ever celebratehis wisdom, his firmness, his loyalty, his admirable vigilance andprudence in upholding the interests of the public. Nor will thatadmirable, and incredible, and almost godlike skill of his ininterpreting the laws and explaining the principles of equity beburied in silence. If all the men of all ages, who have ever had anyacquaintance with the law in this city, were got together into oneplace, they would not deserve to be compared to Servius Sulpicius. Nor was he more skilful in explaining the law than in laying down theprinciples of justice. Those maxims which were derived from laws andfrom the common law, he constantly referred to the original principlesof kindness and equity. Nor was he more fond of arranging the conductof law-suits than of preventing disputes altogether. Therefore he isnot in want of this memorial which a statue will provide; he hasother and better ones. For this statue will be only a witness of hishonourable death; those actions will be the memorial of his gloriouslife. So that this will be rather a monument of the gratitude of thesenate, than of the glory of the man. 

The affection of the son, too, will appear to have great influence inmoving us to honour the father; for although, being overwhelmed withgrief, he is not present, still you ought to be animated with the samefeelings as if he were present. But he is in such distress, that nofather ever sorrowed more over the loss of an only son than he grievesfor the death of his father. Indeed, I think that it concerns also thefame of Servius Sulpicius the son, that he should appear to have paidall due respect to his father. Although Servius Sulpicius could leaveno nobler monument behind him than his son, the image of his ownmanners, and virtues, and wisdom, and piety, and genius; whose griefcan either be alleviated by this honour paid to his father by you, orby no consolation at all. 

VI. But when I recollect the many conversations which in the days ofour intimacy on earth I have had with Servius Sulpicius, it appearsto me, that if there be any feeling in the dead, a brazen statue, andthat too a pedestrian one, will be more acceptable to him than a giltequestrian one, such as was first erected to Lucius Sylla. For Serviuswas wonderfully attached to the moderation of our forefathers, and wasaccustomed to reprove the insolence of this age. As if, therefore, Iwere able to consult himself as to what he would wish, so I give myvote for a pedestrian statue of brass, as if I were speaking by hisauthority and inclination; which by the honour of the memorialwill diminish and mitigate the great grief and regret of hisfellow-citizens. And it is certain that this my opinion, O conscriptfathers, will be approved of by the opinion of Publius Servilius, whohas given his vote that a sepulchre be publicly decreed to ServiusSulpicius, but has voted against the statue. For if the death ofan ambassador happening without bloodshed and violence requires nohonour, why does he vote for the honour of a public funeral, which isthe greatest honour that can be paid to a dead man! If he grants thatto Servius Sulpicius which was not given to Cnaeus Octavius, why doeshe think that we ought not to give to the former what was given to thelatter? Our ancestors, indeed, decreed statues to many men; publicsepulchres to few. But statues perish by weather, by violence, bylapse of time; but the sanctity of the sepulchres is in the soilitself, which can neither be moved nor destroyed by any violence; andwhile other things are extinguished, so sepulchres become holier byage. 

Let, then, that man be distinguished by that honour also, a man towhom no honour can be given which is not deserved. Let us be gratefulin paying respect in death to him to whom we can now show no othergratitude. And by that same step let the audacity of Marcus Antonius, waging a nefarious war, be branded with infamy. For when these honourshave been paid to Servius Sulpicius, the evidence of his embassyhaving been insulted and rejected by Antonius will remain foreverlasting. 

VII. On which account I give my vote for a decree in this form: 'AsServius Sulpicius Rufus, the son of Quintus, of the Lemonian tribe, at a most critical period of the republic, and being ill with a veryserious and dangerous disease, preferred the authority of the senateand the safety of the republic to his own life, and struggled againstthe violence and severity of his illness, in order to arrive at thecamp of Antonius, to which the senate had sent him; and as he when hehad almost arrived at the camp, being overwhelmed by the violence ofthe disease, has lost his life in discharging a most important officeof the republic; and as his death has been in strict correspondence toa life passed with the greatest integrity and honour, during which he, Servius Sulpicius, has often been of great service to the republic, both as a private individual and in the discharge of variousmagistracies; and as he, being such a man, has encountered death onbehalf of the republic while employed on an embassy;--the senatedecrees that a brazen pedestrian statue of Servius Sulpicius beerected in the rostra in compliance with the resolution of this order, and that his children and posterity shall have a place round thisstatue of five feet in every direction, from which to behold thegames and gladiatorial combats, because he died in the cause of therepublic; and that this reason be inscribed on the pedestal of thestatue; and that Carus Pansa and Aulus Hirtius the consuls, one orboth of them, if it seem good to them, shall command the quaestorsof the city to let out a contract for making that pedestal and thatstatue, and erecting them in the rostra; and that whatever price theycontract for, they shall take care the amount is given and paid to thecontractor, and as in old times the senate has exerted its authoritywith respect to the obsequies of, and honours paid to brave men, itnow decrees that he shall be carried to the tomb on the day of hisfuneral with the greatest possible solemnity. And as Servius SulpiciusRufus, the son of Quintus of the Lemonian tribe, has deserved so wellof the republic as to be entitled to be complimented with all thosedistinctions, the senate is of opinion, and thinks it for theadvantage of the republic, that the consule aedile should suspend theedict which usually prevails with respect to funerals in the case ofthe funeral of Servius Sulpicius Rufus, the son of Quintus of theLemonian tribe, and that Carus Pansa, the consul, shall assign him aplace for a tomb in the Esquiline plain, or in whatever place shallseem good to him extending thirty feet in every direction, whereServius Sulpicius may be buried, and that that shall be his tomb, and that of his children and posterity, as having been a tomb mostdeservedly given to them by the public authority. 

THE TENTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. CALLED ALSOTHE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 

THE ARGUMENT

Soon after the delivery of the last speech, despatches were receivedfrom Brutus by the consuls, giving an account of his success againstCarus Antonius in Macedonia, stating that he had secured Macedonia, Illyricum, and Greece with the armies in those countries, that CarusAntonius had retired to Apollonia with seven cohorts, that a legionunder Lucius Piso had surrendered to young Cicero, who was commandinghis cavalry, that Dolabella's cavalry had deserted to him, and thatVatinius had surrendered Dyrrachium and its garrison to him. Helikewise praised Quintus Hortensius, the proconsul of Macedonia, ashaving assisted him in gaining over the Grecian provinces and thearmies in those districts. 

As soon as Pansa received the despatches, he summoned the senate tohave them read, and in a set speech greatly extolled Brutus, and moveda vote of thanks to him but Calenus, who followed him, declared hisopinion, that as Brutus had acted without any public commission orauthority he should be required to give up his army to the propergovernors of the provinces, or to whoever the senate should appointto receive it. After he had sat down, Cicero rose, and delivered thefollowing speech. 

I. We all, O Pansa, ought both to feel and to show the greatestgratitude to you, who--though we did not expect that you would holdany senate to day, --the moment that you received the letters of MarcusBrutus, that most excellent citizen, did not interpose even theslightest delay to our enjoying the most excessive delight and mutualcongratulation at the earliest opportunity. And not only ought thisaction of yours to be grateful to us all, but also the speech whichyou addressed to us after the letters had been read. For you showedplainly, that that was true which I have always felt to be so, thatno one envied the virtue of another who was confident of his own. Therefore I, who have been connected with Brutus by many mutual goodoffices and by the greatest intimacy, need not say so much concerninghim for the part that I had marked out for myself your speech hasanticipated me in. But, O conscript fathers, the opinion delivered bythe man who was asked for his vote before me, has imposed upon me thenecessity of saying rather more than I otherwise should have said, andI differ from him so repeatedly at present, that I am afraid (whatcertainly ought not to be the case) that our continual disagreementmay appear to diminish our friendship. 

What can be the meaning of this argument of yours, O Calenus? what canbe your intention? How is it that you have never once since the firstof January been of the same opinion with him who asks you your opinionfirst? How is it that the senate has never yet been so full as toenable you to find one single person to agree with your sentiments?Why are you always defending men who in no point resemble you? why, when both your life and your fortune invite you to tranquillity anddignity, do you approve of those measures, and defend those measures, and declare those sentiments, which are adverse both to the generaltranquillity and to your own individual dignity?

II. For to say nothing of former speeches of yours, at all eventsI cannot pass over in silence this which excites my most especialwonder. What war is there between you and the Bruti? Why do you aloneattack those men whom we are all bound almost to worship? Why are younot indignant at one of them being besieged, and why do you--as faras your vote goes--strip the other of those troops which by his ownexertions and by his own danger he has got together by himself, without any one to assist him, for the protection of the republic, notfor himself? What is your meaning in this? What are your intentions?Is it possible that you should not approve of the Bruti, and shouldapprove of Antonius? that you should hate those men whom every oneelse considers most dear? and that you should love with the greatestconstancy those whom every one else hates most bitterly? You have amost ample fortune, you are in the highest rank of honour, your son, as I both hear and hope is born to glory, --a youth whom I favour notonly for the sake of the republic, but for your sake also. I ask, therefore, would you rather have him like Brutus or like Antonius? andI will let you choose whichever of the three Antonii you please. Godforbid! you will say. Why, then, do you not favour those men andpraise those men whom you wish your own son to resemble? For by sodoing you will be both consulting the interests of the republic, andproposing him an example for his imitation. 

But in this instance, I hope, O Quintus Fufius, to be allowed toexpostulate with you, as a senator who greatly differs from you, without any prejudice to our friendship. For you spoke in this matter, and that too from a written paper, for I should think you had madea slip from want of some appropriate expression, if I were notacquainted with your ability in speaking. You said "that the lettersof Brutus appeared properly and regularly expressed. " What else isthis than praising Brutus's secretary, not Brutus? You both ought tohave great experience in the affairs of the republic, and you have. When did you ever see a decree framed in this manner? or in whatresolution of the senate passed on such occasions, (and they areinnumerable, ) did you ever hear of its being decreed that the lettershad been well drawn up? And that expression did not--as is often thecase with other men--fall from you by chance, but you brought it withyou written down, deliberated on, and carefully meditated on. 

III. If any one could take from you this habit of disparaging good menon almost every occasion, then what qualities would not be left toyou which every one would desire for himself? Do, then, recollectyourself, do at last soften and quiet that disposition of yours, dotake the advice of good men, with many of whom you are intimate, doconverse with that wisest of men, your own son in-law, oftener thanwith yourself, and then you will obtain the name of a man of the veryhighest character. Do you think it a matter of no consequence, (itis a matter in which I, out of the friendship which I feel you, constantly grieve in your stead, ) that this should be commonly saidout of doors, and should be a common topic of conversation among theRoman people, that the man who delivered his opinion first did notfind a single person to agree with him? And that I think will be thecase to day. 

You propose to take the legions away from Brutus--which legions? Why, those which he has gained over from the wickedness of Caius Antonius, and has by his own authority gained over to the republic. Do you wishthen that he should again appear to be the only person stripped of hisauthority, and as it were banished by the senate? And you, O conscriptfathers, if you abandon and betray Marcus Brutus, what citizen in theworld will you ever distinguish? Whom will you ever favour? Unless, indeed, you think that those men who put a diadem on a man's headdeserve to be preserved, and those who have abolished the very name ofkingly power deserve to be abandoned. And of this divine and immortalglory of Marcus Brutus I will say no more, it is already embalmed inthe grateful recollection of all the citizens, but it has not yet beensanctioned by any formal act of public authority. Such patience! O yegood gods! such moderation! such tranquillity and submission underinjury! A man who, while he was praetor of the city, was driven fromthe city, was prevented from sitting as judge in legal proceedings, when it was he who had restored all law to the republic, and, thoughhe might have been hedged round by the daily concourse of all virtuousmen, who were constantly flocking round him in marvellous numbers, hepreferred to be defended in his absence by the judgment of the good, to being present and protected by their force, --who was not evenpresent to celebrate the games to Apollo, which had been prepared ina manner suitable to his own dignity and to that of the Roman people, lest he should open any road to the audacity of most wicked men. 

IV. Although, what games or what days were ever more joyful than thoseon which at every verse that the actor uttered, the Roman people didhonour to the memory of Brutus, with loud shouts of applause? Theperson of their liberator was absent, the recollection of theirliberty was present, in which the appearance of Brutus himself seemedto be visible. But the man himself I beheld on those very days of thegames, in the country-house of a most illustrious young man, Lucullus, his relation, thinking of nothing but the peace and concord of thecitizens. I saw him again afterwards at Veha, departing from Italy, inorder that there might be no pretext for civil war on his account. Ohwhat a sight was that! grievous, not only to men but to the very wavesand shores. That its saviour should be departing from his country, that its destroyers should be remaining in their country! The fleetof Cassius followed a few days afterwards, so that I was ashamed Oconscript fathers, to return into the city from which those men weredeparting. But the design with which I returned you heard at thebeginning, and since that you have known by experience. Brutus, therefore, bided his time. For, as long as he saw you endureeverything, he himself behaved with incredible patience, after thathe saw you roused to a desire of liberty, he prepared the means toprotect you in your liberty. 

But what a pest, and how great a pest was it which he resisted? Forif Caius Antonius had been able to accomplish what he intended in hismind, (and he would have been able to do so if the virtue of MarcusBrutus had not opposed his wickedness, ) we should have lost Macedonia, Illyricum, and Greece. Greece would have been a refuge for Antonius ifdefeated, or a support to him in attacking Italy, which at present, being not only arrayed in arms, but embellished by the militarycommand and authority and troops of Marcus Brutus stretches out herright hand to Italy, and promises it her protection. And the man whoproposes to deprive him of his army, is taking away a most illustrioushonour, and a most trustworthy guard from the republic. I wish, indeed, that Antonius may hear this news as speedily as possible, so that he may understand that it is not Decimus Brutus whom he issurrounding with his ramparts, but he himself who is really hemmed in. 

V. He possesses three towns only on the whole face of the earth. Hehas Gaul most bitterly hostile to him, he has even those men thepeople beyond the Po, in whom he placed the greatest reliance, entirely alienated from him, all Italy is his enemy. Foreign nations, from the nearest coast of Greece to Egypt, are occupied by themilitary command and armies of most virtuous and intrepid citizens. His only hope was in Caius Antonius; who being in age the middle onebetween his two brothers, rivalled both of them in vices. He hastenedaway as if he were being driven away by the senate into Macedonia, notas if he were prohibited from proceeding thither. What a storm, Oye immortal gods! what a conflagration! what a devastation! what apestilence to Greece would that man have been, if incredible andgodlike virtue had not checked the enterprise and audacity of thatfrantic man. What promptness was there in Brutus's conduct! whatprudence! what valour! Although the rapidity of the movement of CaiusAntonius also is not despicable; for if some vacant inheritance hadnot delayed him on his march, you might have said that he had flownrather than travelled. When we desire other men to go forth toundertake any public business, we are scarcely able to get them outof the city; but we have driven this man out by the mere fact of ourdesiring to retain him. But what business had he with Apollonia? whatbusiness had he with Dyrrachium? or with Illyricum? What had he todo with the army of Publius Vatinius, our general? He, as he saidhimself, was the successor of Hortensius. The boundaries of Macedoniaare well defined; the condition of the proconsul is well known; theamount of his army, if he has any at all, is fixed. But what hadAntonius to do at all with Illyricum and with the legions of Vatinius?

But Brutus had nothing to do with them either. For that, perhaps, iswhat some worthless man may say. All the legions, all the forces whichexist anywhere, belong to the Roman people. Nor shall those legionswhich have quitted Marcus Antonius be called the legions of Antoniusrather than of the republic; for he loses all power over his army, andall the privileges of military command, who uses that military commandand that army to attack the republic. 

VI. But if the republic itself could give a decision, or if all rightswere established by its decrees, would it adjudge the legions ofthe Roman people to Antonius or to Brutus? The one had flown withprecipitation to the plunder and destruction of the allies, in order, wherever he went, to lay waste, and pillage, and plunder everything, and to employ the army of the Roman people against the Roman peopleitself. The other had laid down this law for himself, that wherever hecame he should appear to come as a sort of light and hope of safety. Lastly, the one was seeking aids to overturn the republic; the otherto preserve it. Nor, indeed, did we see this more clearly than thesoldiers themselves; from whom so much discernment in judging was notto have been expected. 

He writes, that Antonius is at Apollonia with seven cohorts, and he iseither by this time taken prisoner, (may the gods grant it!) or, atall events, like a modest man, he does not come near Macedonia, lesthe should seem to act in opposition to the resolution of the senate. A levy of troops has been held in Macedonia, by the great zeal anddiligence of Quintus Hortensius; whose admirable courage, worthy bothof himself and of his ancestors, you may clearly perceive from theletters of Brutus. The legion which Lucius Piso, the lieutenant ofAntonius, commanded, has surrendered itself to Cicero, my own son. Of the cavalry, which was being led into Syria in two divisions, onedivision has left the quaestor who was commanding it, in Thessaly, andhas joined Brutus; and Cnaeus Domitius, a young man of the greatestvirtue and wisdom and firmness, has carried off the other from theSyrian lieutenant in Macedonia. But Publius Vatinius, who has beforethis been deservedly praised by us, and who is justly entitled tofurther praise at the present time, has opened the gates of Dyrrachiumto Brutus, and has given him up his army. 

The Roman people then is now in possession of Macedonia, andIllyricum, and Greece. The legions there are all devoted to us, thelight-armed troops are ours, the cavalry is ours, and, above all, Brutus is ours, and always will be ours--a man born for the republic, both by his own most excellent virtues, and also by some especialdestiny of name and family, both on his father's and on his mother'sside. 

VII. Does any one then fear war from this man, who, until we commencedthe war, being compelled to do so, preferred lying unknown in peace toflourishing in war? Although he, in truth, never did lie unknown, norcan this expression possibly be applied to such great eminence invirtue. For he was the object of regret to the state; he was in everyone's mouth, the subject of every one's conversation. But he was sofar removed from an inclination to war, that, though he was burningwith a desire to see Italy free, he preferred being wanting to thezeal of the citizens, to leading them to put everything to the issueof war. Therefore, those very men, if there be any such, who findfault with the slowness of Brutus's movements, nevertheless at thesame time admire his moderation and his patience. 

But I see now what it is they mean: nor, in truth, do they use muchdisguise. They say that they are afraid how the veterans may endurethe idea of Brutus having an army. As if there were any differencebetween the troops of Aulus Hirtius, of Caius Pansa, of DecimusBrutus, of Caius Caesar, and this army of Marcus Brutus. For if thesefour armies which I have mentioned are praised because they have takenup arms for the sake of the liberty of the Roman people, what reasonis there why this army of Marcus Brutus should not be classed underthe same head? Oh, but the very name of Marcus Brutus is unpopularamong the veterans. --More than that of Decimus Brutus?--I think not;for although the action is common to both the Bruti, and althoughtheir share in the glory is equal, still those men who were indignantat that deed were more angry with Decimus Brutus, because they said, that it was more improper for it to be executed by him. What now areall those armies labouring at, except to effect the release of DecimusBrutus from a siege? And who are the commanders of those armies? Thosemen, I suppose, who wish the acts of Caius Caesar to be overturned, and the cause of the veterans to be betrayed. 

VIII. If Caesar himself were alive, could he, do you imagine, defendhis own acts more vigorously than that most gallant man Hirtiusdefends them? or, is it possible that any one should be found morefriendly to the cause than his son? But the one of these, though notlong recovered from a very long attack of a most severe disease, hasapplied all the energy and influence which he had to defending theliberty of those men by whose prayers he considered that he himselfhad been recalled from death; the other, stronger in the strengthof his virtue than in that of his age, has set out with those veryveterans to deliver Decimus Brutus. Therefore, those men who are boththe most certain and at the same time the most energetic defenders ofthe acts of Caesar, are waging war for the safety of Decimus Brutus;and they are followed by the veterans. For they see that they mustfight to the uttermost for the freedom of the Roman people, not fortheir own advantages. What reason, then, is there why the army ofMarcus Brutus should be an object of suspicion to those men who withthe whole of their energies desire the preservation of Decimus Brutus?

But, moreover, if there were anything which were to be feared fromMarcus Brutus, would not Pansa perceive it? Or if he did perceive it, would not he, too, be anxious about it? Who is either more acute inhis conjectures of the future, or more diligent in warding off danger?But you have already seen his zeal for, and inclination towards MarcusBrutus. He has already told us in his speech what we ought to decree, and how we ought to feel with respect to Marcus Brutus. And he was sofar from thinking the army of Marcus Brutus dangerous to the republic, that he considered it the most important and the most trusty bulwarkof the republic. Either, then, Pansa does not perceive this (no doubthe is a man of dull intellect), or he disregards it. For he isclearly not anxious that the acts which Caesar executed should beratified, --he, who in compliance with our recommendation is going tobring forward a bill at the comitia centuriata for sanctioning andconfirming them. 

IX. Let those, then, who have no fear, cease to pretend to be alarmed, and to be exercising their foresight in the cause of the republic. And let those who really are afraid of everything, cease to be toofearful, lest the pretence of the one party and the inactivity of theother be injurious to us. What, in the name of mischief! is the objectof always opposing the name of the veterans to every good cause? Foreven if I were attached to their virtue, as indeed I am, still, ifthey were arrogant I should not be able to tolerate their airs. Whilewe are endeavouring to break the bonds of slavery, shall any onehinder us by saying that the veterans do not approve of it? For theyare not, I suppose, beyond all counting, who are ready to take up armsin defence of the common freedom! There is no man, except the veteransoldiers, who is stimulated by the indignation of a freeman to repelslavery! Can the republic then stand, relying wholly on veterans, without a great reinforcement of the youth of the state? Whom, indeed, you ought to be attached to, if they be assistants to you in theassertion of your freedom, but whom you ought not to follow if they bethe advisers of slavery. 

Lastly, (let me at last say one true word, one word worthy ofmyself!)--if the inclinations of this order are governed by the nod ofthe veterans, and if all our words and actions are to be referred totheir will, death is what we should wish for, which has always, in theminds of Roman citizens, been preferable to slavery. All slavery ismiserable; but some may have been unavoidable. Do you think, then, that there is never to be a beginning of our endeavours to recoverour freedom? Or, when we would not bear that fortune which wasunavoidable, and which seemed almost as if appointed by destiny, shaltwe tolerate the voluntary bondage? All Italy is burning with a desirefor freedom. The city cannot endure slavery any longer. We have giventhis warlike attire and these arms to the Roman people much later thanthey have been demanded of us by them. 

X. We have, indeed, undertaken our present course of action with agreat and almost certain hope of liberty. But even if I allow that theevents of war are uncertain, and that the chances of Mars are commonto both sides, still it is worth while to fight for freedom at theperil of one's life. For life does not consist wholly in breathing, there is literally no life at all for one who is a slave. All nationscan endure slavery. Our state cannot. Nor is there any other reasonfor this, except that those nations shrink from toil and pain, andare willing to endure anything so long as they may be free from thoseevils, but we have been trained and bred up by our forefathers in sucha manner, as to measure all our designs and all our actions by thestandard of dignity and virtue. The recovery of freedom is so splendida thing that we must not shun even death when seeking to recover it. But if immortality were to be the result of our avoidance of presentdanger, still slavery would appear still more worthy of being avoided, in proportion as it is of longer duration. But as all sorts of deathssurround us on all sides night and day, it does not become a man, and least of all a Roman, to hesitate to give up to his country thatbreath which he owes to nature. 

Men flock together from all quarters to extinguish a generalconflagration. The veterans were the first to follow the authority ofCaesar and to repel the attempts of Antonius, afterwards the Martiallegion checked his frenzy, the fourth legion crushed it. Being thuscondemned by his own legions, he burst into Gaul, which he knew to beadverse and hostile to him both in word and deed. The armies of AulusHirtius and Caius Caesar pursued him, and afterwards the levies ofPansa roused the city and all Italy. He is the one enemy of all men. Although he has with him Lucius his brother, a citizen very muchbeloved by the Roman people, the regret for whose absence the city isunable to endure any longer! What can be more foul than that beast?what more savage? who appears born for the express purpose ofpreventing Marcus Antonius from being the basest of all mortals. Theyhave with them Trebellius, who, now that all debts are cancelled, isbecome reconciled to them, and Titus Plancus, and other like them, who are striving with all their hearts, and whose sole object is, toappear to have been restored against the will of the republic. Saxaand Capho, themselves rustic and clownish men, men who never haveseen and who never wish to see this republic firmly established, aretampering with the ignorant classes; men who are not upholding theacts of Caesar but those of Antonius, who are led away by the unlimitedoccupation of the Campanian district, and who I marvel are notsomewhat ashamed when they see that they have actors and actresses fortheir neighbours. 

XI. Why then should we be displeased that the army of Marcus Brutus isthrown into the scale to assist us in overwhelming these pests ofthe commonwealth? It is the army, I suppose, of an intemperate andturbulent man. I am more afraid of his being too patient, although inall the counsels and actions of that man there never has been anythingeither too much or too little. The whole inclinations of MarcusBrutus, O conscript fathers, the whole of his thoughts, the whole ofhis ideas, are directed towards the authority of the senate and thefreedom of the Roman people. These are the objects which he proposesto himself, these are what he desires to uphold. He has tried what hecould do by patience, as he did nothing he has thought it necessary toencounter force by force. And, O conscript fathers, you ought at thistime to grant him the same honours which on the nineteenth of Decemberyou conferred by my advice on Decimus Brutus and Caius Caesar, whosedesigns and conduct in regard to the republic, while they alsowere but private individuals, was approved of and praised by yourauthority. And you ought to do the same now with respect to MarcusBrutus, by whom an unhoped for and sudden reinforcement of legions andcavalry, and numerous and trusty bands of allies, have been providedfor the republic. 

Quintus Hortensius also ought to have a share of your praise, who, being governor of Macedonia, joined Brutus as a most faithful anduntiring assistant in collecting that army. For I think that aseparate motion ought to be made respecting Marcus Appuleius, to whomBrutus bears witness in his letters that he has been a prime assistantto him in his endeavours to get together and equip his army. And sincethis is the case, "As Caius Pansa the consul has addressed to us a speech concerningthe letters which have been received from Quintus Caepio Brutus, [44]proconsul, and have been read in this assembly, I give my vote in thismatter thus. 

"Since, by the exertions and wisdom and industry and valour of QuintusCaepio Brutus, proconsul, at a most critical period of the republic, the province of Macedonia, and Illyircum, and all Greece, and thelegions and armies and cavalry, have been preserved in obedience tothe consuls and senate and people of Rome, Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, has acted well, and in a manner advantageous to therepublic and suitable to his own dignity and to that of his ancestors, and to the principles according to which alone the affairs of therepublic can be properly managed, and that conduct is and will begrateful to the senate and people of Rome. 

"And moreover, as Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, is occupying anddefending and protecting the province of Macedonia, and Illyricum, andall Greece, and is preserving them in safety, and as he is in commandof an army which he himself has levied and collected, he is atliberty, if he has need of any, to exact money for the use of themilitary service, which belongs to the public, and can lawfully beexacted, and to use it, and to borrow money for the exigencies of thewar from whomsoever he thinks fit, and to exact coin, and to endeavourto approach Italy as near as he can with his forces. And as it hasbeen understood from the letters of Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, that the republic has been greatly benefited by the energy and valourof Quintus Hortensius, proconsul, and that all his counsels have beenin harmony with those of Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, and thatthat harmony has been of the greatest service to the republic, QuintusHortensius has acted well and becomingly, and in a manner advantageousto the republic. And the senate decrees that Quintus Hortensius, proconsul, shall occupy the province of Macedonia with his quaestors, or proquaestors and lieutenants, until he shall have a successorregularly appointed by resolution of the senate. "

THE ELEVENTH ORATION OF M T CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. CALLEDALSO THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC

 * * * * *

THE ARGUMENT

A short time after the delivery of the preceding speech, news cameto Rome of Dolabella (the colleague of Antonius) having been verysuccessful in Asia. He had left Rome before the expiration of hisconsulship to take possession of Syria, which Antonius had contrivedto have allotted him, and he hoped to prevail on the inhabitants ofthe province of Asia also to abandon Trebonius, (who had been one ofthe slayers of Caesar, and was governor of Asia) and submit to him. Trebonius was residing at Smyrna, and Dolabella arrived before thewalls of that town with very few troops, requesting a free passagethrough Trebonius's province. Trebonius refused to admit him intothe town, but promised that he would permit him to enter Ephesus. Dolabella, however, effected an entry into Smyrna by a nocturnalsurprise, and seized Trebonius, whom he murdered with great cruelty. 

As soon as the news of this event reached Rome, the consul summonedthe senate, which at once declared Dolabella a public enemy, andconfiscated his estate. Calenus was the mover of this decree. Butbesides this motion there was another question to be settled namely, who was to be appointed to conduct the war against Dolabella. Someproposed to send Publius Servilus; others, that the two consuls shouldbe sent, and should have the two provinces of Asia and Syria allottedto them, and this last proposition Pansa himself was favourableto, and it was supported not only by his friends, but also by thepartisans of Antonius, who thought it would draw off the consuls fromtheir present business of relieving Decimus Brutus. But Cicero thoughtthat it would be an insult to Cassius, who was already in thosecountries, to supersede him as it were, by sending any one else tocommand there, and so he exerted all his influence to procure a decreeentrusting the command to him, though Servilia, the mother-in-law ofCassius, and other of Cassius's friends, begged him not to disobligePansa. He persevered, however and made the following speech in supportof his opinion. 

It appears that Cicero failed in his proposition through the influenceof Pansa, but before any orders came from Rome, Cassius had defeatedDolabella near Laodicea, and he killed himself to avoid falling intothe hands of his conqueror. 

I. AMID the great grief, O conscript fathers, or rather misery whichwe have suffered at the cruel and melancholy death of Caius Trebonius, a most virtuous citizen and a most moderate man, there is still acircumstance or two in the case which I think will turn out beneficialto the republic. For we have now thoroughly seen what great barbaritythese men are capable of who have taken up wicked arms against theircountry. For these two, Dolabella and Antonius, are the very blackestand foulest monsters that have ever lived since the birth of man; oneof whom has now done what he wished; and as to the other, it has beenplainly shown what he intended. Lucius Cinna was cruel; Caius Mariuswas unrelenting in his anger; Lucius Sylla was fierce; but still theinhumanity of none of these men ever went beyond death; and thatpunishment indeed was thought too cruel to be inflicted on citizens. 

Here now you have a pair equal in wickedness; unprecedented, unheardof, savage, barbarous. Therefore those men whose vehement mutualhatred and quarrel you recollect a short time ago, have now beenunited in singular unanimity and mutual attachment by the singularityof their wicked natures and most infamous lives. Therefore, that whichDolabella has now done in a case in which he had the power, Antoniusthreatens many with. But the former, as he was a long way from ourcounsels and armies, and as he was not yet aware that the senate hadunited with the Roman people, relying on the forces of Antonius, hascommitted those wicked actions which he thought were already put inpractice at Rome by his accomplice in wickedness. What else then doyou think that this man is contriving or wishing, or what other objectdo you think he has in the war? All of us who have either entertainedthe thoughts of freemen concerning the republic, or have givenutterance to opinions worthy of ourselves, he decides to be not merelyopposed to him, but actual enemies. And he plans inflicting bittererpunishments on us than on the enemy; he thinks death a punishmentimposed by nature, but torments and tortures the proper inflictions ofanger. What sort of enemy then must we consider that man who, if he bevictorious, requires one to think death a kindness if he spares onethe tortures with which it is in his power to accompany it?

II. Wherefore, O conscript fathers, although you do not need any oneto exhort you, (for you yourself have of your own accord warmed upwith the desire of recovering your freedom, ) still defend, I warn you, your freedom with so much the more zeal and courage, in proportionas the punishments of slavery with which you see the conquered arethreatened are more terrible. Antonius has invaded Gaul; Dolabella, Asia; each a province with which he had no business whatever. Brutushas opposed himself to the one, and at the peril of his own life haschecked the onset of that frantic man wishing to harass and plundereverything, has prevented his further progress, and has cut him offfrom his return. By allowing himself to be besieged he has hemmed inAntonius on each side. 

The other has forced his way into Asia. With what object? If it wasmerely to proceed into Syria, he had a road open to him which wassure, and was not long. What was the need of sending forward someMarsian, they call him Octavius, with a legion; a wicked andnecessitous robber; a man to lay waste the lands, to harass thecities, not from any hope of acquiring any permanent property, whichthey who know him say that he is unable to keep (for I have not thehonour of being acquainted with this senator myself, ) but just aspresent food to satisfy his indigence? Dolabella followed him, withoutany one having any suspicion of war. For how could any one thinkof such a thing? Very friendly conferences with Trebonius ensued;embraces, false tokens of the greatest good-will, were there full ofsimulated affection; the pledge of the right hand, which used to be awitness of good faith, was violated by treachery and wickedness;then came the nocturnal entry into Smyrna, as if into an enemy'scity--Smyrna, which is a city of our most faithful and most ancientallies; then the surprise of Trebonius, who, if he were surprised byone who was an open enemy, was very careless; if by one who up to thatmoment maintained the appearance of a citizen, was miserable. And byhis example fortune wished us to take a lesson of what the conqueredparty had to fear. He handed over a man of consular rank, governingthe province of Asia with consular authority, to an exiledarmourer;[45] he would not slay him the moment that he had taken him, fearing, I suppose, that his victory might appear too merciful; butafter having attacked that most excellent man with insulting wordsfrom his impious mouth, then he examined him with scourges andtortures concerning the public money, and that for two days together. Afterwards he cut off his head, and ordered it to be fixed on ajavelin and carried about, and the rest of his body, having beendragged through the street and town, he threw into the sea. 

We, then, have to war against this enemy by whose most foul crueltyall the savageness of barbarous nations is surpassed. Why need I speakof the massacre of Roman citizens? of the plunder of temples? Who isthere who can possibly deplore such circumstances as their atrocitydeserves? And now he is ranging all over Asia, he is triumphing aboutas a king, he thinks that we are occupied in another quarter byanother war, as if it were not one and the same war against thisoutrageous pair of impious men. 

III. You see now an image of the cruelty of Marcus Antonius inDolabella, this conduct of his is formed on the model of the other. It is by him that the lessons of wickedness have been taught toDolabella. Do you think that Antonius, if he had the power, would bemore merciful in Italy than Dolabella has proved in Asia? To me, indeed, this latter appears to have gone as far as the insanity of asavage man could go; nor do I believe that Antonius either would omitany description of punishment, if he had only the power to inflict it. 

Place then before your eyes, O conscript fathers, that spectacle, miserable indeed, and tearful, but still indispensable to rouse yourminds properly: the nocturnal attack upon the most beautiful city inAsia; the irruption of armed men into Trebonius's house, when thatunhappy man saw the swords of the robbers before he heard what was thematter, the entrance of Dolabella, raging, --his ill omened voice, and infamous countenance, --the chains, the scourges, the rack, thearmourer who was both torturer and executioner, all which they saythat the unhappy Trebonius endured with great fortitude. A greatpraise, and in my opinion indeed the greatest of all, for it is thepart of a wise man to resolve beforehand that whatever can happen toa brave man is to be endured with patience if it should happen. It isindeed a proof of altogether greater wisdom to act with such foresightas to prevent any such thing from happening, but it is a token of noless courage to bear it bravely if it should befall one. 

And Dolabella was indeed so wholly forgetful of the claims ofhumanity, (although, indeed, he never had any particular recollectionof it, ) as to vent his insatiable cruelty, not only on the living man, but also on the dead carcass, and, as he could not sufficiently gluthis hatred, to feed his eyes also on the lacerations inflicted, andthe insults offered to his corpse. 

IV. O Dolabella, much more wretched than he whom you intended to bethe most wretched of all men! Trebonius endured great agonies, manymen have endured greater still, from severe disease, whom, however, we are in the habit of calling not miserable, but afflicted. Hissufferings, which lasted two days, were long, but many men have hadsufferings lasting many years, nor are the tortures inflicted byexecutioners more terrible than those caused by disease are sometimes. There are other tortures, --others, I tell you, O you most abandonedand insane man, which are far more miserable. For in proportion asthe vigour of the mind exceeds that of the body, so also are thesufferings which rack the mind more terrible than those which areendured by the body. He, therefore, who commits a wicked action ismore wretched than he who is compelled to endure the wickedness ofanother. Trebonius was tortured by Dolabella, and so, indeed, wasRegulus by the Carthaginians. If on that account the Carthaginianswere considered very cruel for such behaviour to an enemy, what mustwe think of Dolabella, who treated a citizen in such a manner? Isthere any comparison? or can we doubt which of the two is mostmiserable? he whose death the senate and Roman people wish to avenge, or he who has been adjudged an enemy by the unanimous vote of thesenate? For in every other particular of their lives, who couldpossibly, without the greatest insult to Trebonius, compare the lifeof Trebonius to that of Dolabella? Who is ignorant of the wisdom, andgenius, and humanity, and innocence of the one, and of his greatnessof mind as displayed in his exertions for the freedom of his country?The other, from his very childhood, has taken delight in cruelty; and, moreover, such has been the shameful nature of his lusts, that he hasalways delighted in the very fact of doing those things which he couldnot even be reproached with by a modest enemy. 

And this man, O ye immortal gods, was once my relation! For his viceswere unknown to one who did not inquire into such things nor perhapsshould I now be alienated from him if he had not been discovered tobe an enemy to you, to the walls of his country, to this city, to ourhousehold gods, to the altars and hearths of all of us, --in short, tohuman nature and to common humanity. But now, having received thislesson from him, let us be the more diligent and vigilant in being onour guard against Antonius. 

V. Indeed, Dolabella had not with him any great number of notoriousand conspicuous robbers. But you see there are with Antonius, and inwhat numbers. In the first place, there is his brother Lucius--whata firebrand, O ye immortal gods! what an incarnation of crime andwickedness! what a gulf, what a whirlpool of a man! What do you thinkthat man incapable of swallowing up in his mind, or gulping downin his thoughts! Who do you imagine there is whose blood he is notthirsting for? who, on whose possessions and fortunes he is not fixinghis most impudent eyes, his hopes, and his whole heart? What shall wesay of Censorinus? who, as far as words go, said indeed that he wishedto be the city praetor, but who, in fact, was unwilling to be so? Whatof Bestia, who professes that he is a candidate for the consulship inthe place of Brutus? May Jupiter avert from us this most detestableomen! But how absurd is it for a man to stand for the consulship whocannot be elected praetor! unless, indeed, he thinks his conviction maybe taken as an equivalent to the praetorship. Let this second Caesar, this great Vopiscus[46], a man of consummate genius, of the highestinfluence, who seeks the consulship immediately after having beenaedile, be excused from obedience to the laws. Although, indeed, thelaws do not bind him, on account, I suppose, of his exceeding dignity. But this man has been acquitted five times when I have defended him. To win a sixth city victory is difficult, even in the case of agladiator. However, this is the fault of the judges, not mine. Idefended him with perfect good faith, they were bound to retain a mostillustrious and excellent citizen in the republic, who now, however, appears to have no other object except to make us understand thatthose men whose judicial decisions we annulled, decided rightly and ina manner advantageous to the republic. 

Nor is this the case with respect to this man alone; there are othermen in the same camp honestly condemned and shamefully restored; whatcounsel do you imagine can be adopted by those men who are enemies toall good men, that is not utterly cruel? There is besides a fellowcalled Saxa; I don't know who he is, some man whom Caesar importedfrom the extremity of Celtiberia and gave us for a tribune of thepeople. Before that, he was a measurer of ground for camps; now hehopes to measure out and value the city. May the evils which thisforeigner predicts to us fall on his own head, and may we escape insafety! With him is the veteran Capho; nor is there any man whom theveteran troops hate more cordially; to these men, as if in addition tothe dowry which they had received during our civil disasters, Antoniushad given the Campanian district, that they might have it as a sortof nurse for their other estates. I only wish they would be contentedwith them! We would bear it then, though it would not be what ought tobe borne, but still it would be worth our while to bear anything, aslong as we could escape this most shameful war. 

VI. What more? Have you not before your eyes those ornaments of thecamp of Marcus Antonius? In the first place, these two colleagues ofthe Antonii and Dolabella, Nucula and Lento the dividers of all Italyaccording to that law which the senate pronounced to have been earnedby violence, one of whom has been a writer of farces, and the other anactor of tragedies. Why should I speak of Domitius the Apulian? whoseproperty we have lately seen advertised, so great is the carelessnessof his agents. But this man lately was not content with giving poisonto his sister's son, he actually drenched him with it. But it isimpossible for these men to live in any other than a prodigal manner, who hope for our property while they are squandering their own. I haveseen also an auction of the property of Publius Decius, an illustriousman, who, following the example of his ancestors, devoted himself forthe debts of another. But at that auction no one was found to be apurchaser. Ridiculous man to think it possible to escape from debt byselling other people's property! For why should I speak of Trebellius?on whom the furies of debts seem to have wrecked their vengeance, forwe have seen one table[47] avenging another. Why should I speak ofPlancus? whom that most illustrious citizen Aquila has driven fromPollentia, --and that too with a broken leg, and I wish he had met withthat accident earlier, so as not to be liable to return hither. 

I had almost passed over the light and glory of that army, CaiusAnnius Cimber, the son of Lysidicus, a Lysidicus himself in the Greekmeaning of the word, since he has broken all laws, unless perhaps itis natural for a Cimbrian to slay a German[48]? When Antonius has suchnumbers with him, and those too men of that sort, what crime will heshrink from, when Dolabella has polluted himself with such atrociousmurders without at all an equal troop of robbers to support him?Wherefore, as I have often at other times differed against my willfrom Quintus Fufius, so on this occasion I gladly agree with hisproposition. And from this you may see that my difference is not withthe man, but with the cause which he sometimes advocates. 

Therefore, at present I not only agree with Quintus Fufius, but I evenreturn thanks to him, for he has given utterance to opinions which areupright, and dignified, and worthy of the republic. He has pronouncedDolabella a public enemy, he has declared his opinion that hisproperty ought to be confiscated by public authority. And thoughnothing could be added to this, (for, indeed, what could he proposemore severe or more pitiless?) nevertheless, he said that if any ofthose men who were asked their opinion after him proposed any moresevere sentence, he would vote for it. Who can avoid praising suchseverity as this?

VII. Now, since Dolabella has been pronounced a public enemy, he mustbe pursued by war. For he himself will not remain quiet. He has alegion with him, he has troops of runaway slaves, he has a wicked bandof impious men, he himself is confident, intemperate, and bent onfalling by the death of a gladiator. Wherefore, since, as Dolabellawas voted an enemy by the decree which was passed yesterday, war mustbe waged, we must necessarily appoint a general. 

Two opinions have been advanced, neither of which do I approve. Theone, because I always think it dangerous unless it be absolutelynecessary, the other, because I think it wholly unsuited to theemergency. For an extraordinary commission is a measure suited ratherto the fickle character of the mob, one which does not at all becomeour dignity or this assembly. In the war against Antiochus, a greatand important war, when Asia had fallen by lot to Lucius Scipio as hisprovince, and when he was thought to have hardly spirit and hardlyvigour enough for it, and when the senate was inclined to entrust thebusiness to his colleague Caius Laelius, the father of this Laelius, who was surnamed the Wise; Publius Africanus, the elder brother ofLucius Scipio, rose up, and entreated them not to cast such a slur onhis family, and said that in his brother there was united the greatestpossible valour, with the most consummate prudence, and that he too, notwithstanding his age, and all the exploits which he had performed, would attend his brother as his lieutenant. And after he had saidthis, nothing was changed in respect to Scipio's province, nor was anyextraordinary command sought for any more in that war than in thosetwo terrible Punic wars which had preceded it, which were carriedon and conducted to their termination either by the consuls or bydictators, or than in the war with Pyrrhus, or in that with Philippus, or afterwards in the Achaean war, or in the third Punic war, for whichlast the Roman people took great care to select a suitable general, Publius Scipio, but at the same time it appointed him to theconsulship in order to conduct it. 

VIII. War was to be waged against Aristonicus in the consulship ofPublius Licunius and Lucius Valerius. The people was consulted as towhom it wished to have the management of that war. Crassus, the consuland Pontifex Maximus, threatened to impose a fine upon Flaccus hiscolleague the priest of Mars, if he deserted the sacrifices. Andthough the people remitted the fine, still they ordered the priest tosubmit to the commands of the pontiff. But even then the Roman peopledid not commit the management of the war to a private individual, although there was Africanus, who the year before had celebrated atriumph over the people of Numantia, and who was far superior to allmen in martial renown and military skill; yet he only gained thevotes of two tribunes. And accordingly the Roman people entrusted themanagement of the war to Crassus the consul rather than to the privateindividual Africanus. As to the commands given to Cnaeus Pompeius, thatmost illustrious man, that first of men, they were carried by someturbulent tribunes of the people. For the war against Sertorius wasonly given by the senate to a private individual because the consulsrefused it, when Lucius Philippus said that he sent the general in theplace of the two consuls, not as proconsul. 

What then is the object of these comitia? Or what is the meaning ofthis canvassing which that most wise and dignified citizen, LuciusCaesar, has introduced into the senate? He has proposed to vote amilitary command to one who is certainly a most illustrious andunimpeachable man, but still only a private individual. And by doingso he has imposed a heavy burden upon us. Suppose I agree, shall I byso doing countenance the introduction of the practice of canvassinginto the senate house? Suppose I vote against it, shall I appear as ifI were in the comitia to have refused an honour to a man who is one ofmy greatest friends? But if we are to have the comitia in the senate, let us ask for votes, let us canvass, let a voting tablet be given us, just as one is given to the people. Why do you, O Caesar, allow it tobe so managed that either a most illustrious man, if your propositionbe not agreed too, shall appear to have received a repulse, or elsethat one of us shall appear to have been passed over, if, while we aremen of equal dignity, we are not considered worthy of equal honour?

But (for this is what I hear is said, ) I myself gave by my own vote anextraordinary commission to Caius Caesar. Ay, indeed, for he had givenme extraordinary protection, when I say me, I mean he had given itto the senate and to the Roman people. Was I to refuse giving anextraordinary military command to that man from whom the republic hadreceived protection which had never even been thought of, but thatstill was of so much consequence that without it she could not havebeen safe? There were only the alternatives of taking his army fromhim, or giving him such a command. For on what principle or by whatmeans can an army be retained by a man who has not been invested withany military command? We must not, therefore, think that a thing hasbeen given to a man which has, in fact, not been taken away from him. You would, O conscript fathers, have taken a command away from CaiusCaesar, if you had not given him one. The veteran soldiers, who, following his authority and command and name, had taken up arms in thecause of the republic, desired to be commanded by him. The Martiallegion and the fourth legion had submitted to the authority of thesenate, and had devoted themselves to uphold the dignity of therepublic, in such a way as to feel that they had a right to demandCaius Caesar for their commander. It was the necessity of the war thatinvested Caius Caesar with military command, the senate only gave himthe ensigns of it. But I beg you to tell me, O Lucius Caesar, --I amaware that I am arguing with a man of the greatest experience, --whendid the senate ever confer a military command on a private individualwho was in a state of inactivity, and doing nothing?

IX. However, I have been speaking hitherto to avoid the appearance ofgratuitously opposing a man who is a great friend of mine, and who hasshowed me great kindness. Although, can one deny a thing to a personwho not only does not ask for it, but who even refuses it? But, Oconscript fathers, that proposition is unsuited to the dignity of theconsuls, unsuited to the critical character of the times, namely, theproposition that the consuls, for the sake of pursuing Dolabella, shall have the provinces of Asia and Syria allotted to them. I willexplain why it is inexpedient for the republic, but first of all, consider what ignominy it fixes on the consuls. When a consul electis being besieged, when the safety of the republic depends upon hisliberation, when mischievous and parricidal citizens have revoltedfrom the republic, and when we are carrying on a war in which we arefighting for our dignity, for our freedom, and for our lives, andwhen, if any one falls into the power of Antonius, tortures andtorments are prepared for him, and when the struggle for all theseobjects has been committed and entrusted to our most admirable andgallant consuls, --shall any mention be made of Asia and Syria sothat we may appear to have given any injurious cause for others toentertain suspicion of us, or to bring us into unpopularity? They doindeed propose it, "after having liberated Brutus, "--for those werethe last words of the proposal, say rather, after having deserted, abandoned, and betrayed him. 

But I say that any mention whatever of any provinces has been made ata most unseasonable time. For although your mind, O Caius Pausa, beever so intent, as indeed it is, on effecting the liberation of themost true and illustrious of all men, still the nature of things wouldcompel you inevitably sometimes to turn your thoughts to the ideaof pursuing Antonius, and to divert some portion of your care andattention to Asia and Syria. But if it were possible, I could wish youto have more minds than one, and yet to direct them all upon Mutina. But since that is impossible, I do wish you, with that most virtuousand all accomplished mind which you have got, to think of nothing butBrutus. And that indeed, is what you are doing; that is what you areespecially striving at, but still no man can I will not say do twothings, especially two most important things, at one time but hecannot even do entire justice to them both in his thoughts. It is ourduty rather to spur on and inflame that excellent eagerness of yours, and not to transfer any portion of it to another object of care in adifferent direction. 

X. Add to these considerations the way men talk, the way in which theynourish suspicion, the way in which they take dislikes. Imitateme whom you have always praised; for I rejected a province fullyappointed and provided by the senate, for the purpose of discardingall other thoughts, and devoting all my efforts to extinguishing theconflagration that threatened to consume my country. There was no oneexcept me alone, to whom, indeed, you would, in consideration of ourintimacy, have been sure to communicate anything which concerned yourinterests, who would believe that the province had been decreed to youagainst your will. I entreat you, check, as is due to your eminentwisdom, this report, and do not seem to be desirous of that which youdo not in reality care about. And you should take the more care ofthis point, because your colleague, a most illustrious man, cannotfall under the same suspicion. He knows nothing of all that is goingon here, he suspects nothing, he is conducting the war, he is standingin battle array, he is fighting for his blood and for his life, hewill hear of the province being decreed to him before he could imaginethat there had been time for such a proceeding. I am afraid that ourarmies too, which have devoted themselves to the republic, not fromany compulsory levy, but of their own voluntary zeal, will be checkedin their ardour, if they suppose that we are thinking of anything butinstant war. 

But if provinces appear to the consuls as things to be desired, asthey often have been desired by many illustrious men, first restore usBrutus, the light and glory of the state, whom we ought to preservelike that statue which fell from heaven, and is guarded by theprotection of Vesta, which, as long as it is safe, ensures our safetyalso. Then we will raise you, if it be possible, even to heaven onour shoulders, unquestionably we will select for you the most worthyprovinces. But at present let us apply ourselves to the businessbefore us. And the question is, whether we will live as freemen, ordie, for death is certainly to be preferred to slavery. What moreneed I say? Suppose that proposition causes delay in the pursuit ofDolabella? For when will the consul arrive? Are we waiting till thereis not even a vestige of the towns and cities of Asia left? "But theywill send some one of their officers"--That will certainly be a stepthat I shall quite approve of, I who just now objected to giving anyextraordinary military command to even so illustrious a man if he wereonly a private individual. "But they will send a man worthy of such acharge. " Will they send one more worthy than Publius Servilius? Butthe city has not such a man. What then he himself thinks ought to begiven to no one, not even by the senate, can I approve of that beingconferred by the decision of one man? We have need, O conscriptfathers, of a man ready and prepared, and of one who has a militarycommand legally conferred on him, and of one who, besides this, hasauthority, and a name, and an army, and a courage which has beenalready tried in his exertions for the deliverance of the republic. 

XI Who then is that man? Either Marcus Brutus, or Caius Cassius, or both of them. I would vote in plain words, as there are manyprecedents for, one consul or both, if we had not already hamperedBrutus sufficiently in Greece, and if we had not preferred having hisreinforcement approach nearer to Italy rather than move further offtowards Asia, not so much in order to receive succour ourselves fromthat army, as to enable that army to receive aid across the water. Besides, O conscript fathers, even now Caius Antonius is detainingMarcus Brutus, for he occupies Apollonia, a large and importantcity, he occupies, as I believe, Byllis, he occupies Amantia, he isthreatening Epirus, he is pressing on Illyricum, he has with himseveral cohorts, and he has cavalry. If Brutus be transferred fromthis district to any other war, we shall at all events lose Greece. Wemust also provide for the safety of Brundusium and all that coastof Italy. Although I marvel that Antonius delays so long, for he isaccustomed usually to put on his marching dress and not to endure thefear of a siege for any length of time. But if Brutus has finishedthat business, and perceives that he can better serve the republic bypursuing Dolabella than by remaining in Greece, he will act of his ownhead, as he has hitherto done, nor amid such a general conflagrationwill he wait for the orders of the senate when instant help isrequired. For both Brutus and Cassius have in many instances beena senate to themselves. For it is quite inevitable that in such aconfusion and disturbance of all things men should be guided by thepresent emergency rather than by precedent. Nor will this be the firsttime that either Brutus or Cassius has considered the safety anddeliverance of his country his most holy law and his most excellentprecedent. Therefore, if there were no motion submitted to us aboutthe pursuit of Dolabella, still I should consider it equivalent to adecree, when there were men of such a character for virtue, authority, and the greatest nobleness, possessing armies, one of which is alreadyknown to us, and the other has been abundantly heard of. 

XII Brutus then, you may be sure, has not waited for our decrees, ashe was sure of our desires. For he is not gone to his own province ofCrete, he has flown to Macedonia, which belonged to another, he hasaccounted everything his own which you have wished to be yours, he hasenlisted new legions, he has received old ones, he has gained over tohis own standard the cavalry of Dolabella, and even before that manwas polluted with such enormous parricide, he, of his own head, pronounced him his enemy. For if he were not one, by what right couldhe himself have tempted the cavalry to abandon the consul? What moreneed I say? Did not Caius Cassius, a man endowed with equal greatnessof mind and with equal wisdom, depart from Italy with the deliberateobject of preventing Dolabella from obtaining possession of Syria? Bywhat law? By what right? By that which Jupiter himself has sanctioned, that everything which was advantageous to the republic should beconsidered legal and just. 

For law is nothing but a correct principle drawn from the inspirationof the gods, commanding what is honest, and forbidding the contrary. Cassius, therefore, obeyed this law when he went into Syria, aprovince which belonged to another, if men were to abide by thewritten laws, but which, when these were trampled under foot, was hisby the law of nature. But in order that they may be sanctioned by yourauthority also, I now give my vote, that, "As Publius Dolabella, and those who have been the ministers of andaccomplices and assistants in his cruel and infamous crime, have beenpronounced enemies of the Roman people by the senate, and as thesenate has voted that Publius Dolabella shall be pursued with war, inorder that he who has violated all laws of men and gods by a newand unheard of and inexpiable wickedness and has committed the mostinfamous treason against his country, may suffer the punishment whichis his due, and which he has well deserved at the hands of gods andmen, the senate decrees that Caius Cassius, proconsul, shall have thegovernment of Syria as one appointed to that province with all dueform, and that he shall receive their armies from Quintus MarcusCrispus, proconsul, from Lucius Statius Murcus, proconsul, from AulusAllienus, lieutenant, and that they shall deliver them up to him, andthat he, with these troops and with any more which he may have gotfrom other quarters, shall pursue Dolabella with war both by sea andland; that, for the sake of carrying on war, he shall have authorityand power to buy ships, and sailors, and money, and whatever else maybe necessary or useful for the carrying on of the war, in whateverplaces it seems fitting to him to do so, throughout Syria, Asia, Bithynia, and Pontus; and that, in whatever province he shall arrivefor the purpose of carrying on that war, in that province as soonas Caius Cassius, proconsul, shall arrive in it, the power of CaiusCassius, proconsul, shall be superior to that of him who may be theregular governor of the province at the time. That king Deiotarus thefather, and also king Deiotarus the son, if they assist Caius Cassius, proconsul, with their armies and treasures, as they have heretoforeoften assisted the generals of the Roman people, will do a thing whichwill be grateful to the senate and people of Rome; and that also, ifthe rest of the kings and tetrarchs and governors in those districtsdo the same, the senate and people of Rome will not be forgetful oftheir loyalty and kindness; and that Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius theconsuls, one or both of them, as it seems good to them, as soonas they have re-established the republic, shall at the earliestopportunity submit a motion to this order about the consular andpraetorian provinces; and that, in the meantime, the provinces shouldcontinue to be governed by those officers by whom they are governed atpresent, until a successor be appointed to each by a resolution of thesenate. "

XIII. By this resolution of the senate you will inflame the existingardour of Cassius, and you will give him additional arms; for youcannot be ignorant of his disposition, or of the resources which hehas at present. His disposition is such as you see; his resources, which you have heard stated to you, are those of a gallant andresolute man, who, even while Trebonius was alive, would not permitthe piratical crew of Dolabella to penetrate into Syria. Allienus, myintimate friend and connexion, who went thither after the death ofTrebonius, will not permit himself to be called the lieutenant ofDolabella. The army of Quintus Caecilius Bassus, a man indeed withoutany regular appointment, but a brave and eminent man, is vigorous andvictorious. The army of Deiotarus the king, both father and son, isvery numerous, and equipped in our fashion. Moreover, in the sonthere is the greatest hope, the greatest vigour of genius and a gooddisposition, and the most eminent valour. Why need I speak of thefather, whose good-will towards the Roman people is coeval with hislife; who has not only been the ally of our commanders in their wars, but has also served himself as the general of his own troops. Whatgreat things have Sylla, and Murena, and Servilius, and Lucullus saidof that man; what complimentary, what honourable and dignified mentionhave they often made of him in the senate! Why should I speak ofCnaeus Pompeius, who considered Deiotarus the only friend and realwell-wisher from his heart, the only really loyal man to the Romanpeople in the whole world? We were generals, Marcus Bibulus and I, inneighbouring provinces bordering on his kingdom; and we were assistedby that same monarch both with cavalry and infantry. Then followedthis most miserable and disastrous civil war; in which I need not saywhat Deiotarus ought to have done, or what would have been the mostproper course which he could have adopted, especially as victorydecided for the party opposed to the wishes of Deiotarus. And if inthat war he committed any error, he did so in common with the senate. If his judgment was the right one, then even though defeated it doesnot deserve to be blamed. To these resources other kings and otherlevies of troops will be added. Nor will fleets be wanting to us; sogreatly do the Tyrians esteem Cassius, so mighty is his name in Syriaand Phoenicia. 

XIV. The republic, O conscript fathers, has a general ready againstDolabella, in Caius Cassius, and not ready only, but also skilful andbrave. He performed great exploits before the arrival of Bibulus, amost illustrious man, when he defeated the most eminent generals ofthe Parthians and their innumerable armies, and delivered Syria fromtheir most formidable invasion. I pass over his greatest and mostextraordinary glory; for as the mention of it is not yet acceptableto every one, we had better preserve it in our recollection than bybearing testimony to it with our voice. 

I have noticed, O conscript fathers, that some people have said beforenow, that even Brutus is too much extolled by me, that Cassius is toomuch extolled; and that by this proposition of mine absolute power andquite a principality is conferred upon Cassius. Whom do I extol? Thosewho are themselves the glory of the republic. What? have I not at alltimes extolled Decimus Brutus whenever I have delivered my opinion atall? Do you then find fault with me? or should I rather praise theAntonii, the disgrace and infamy not only of their own families, but ofthe Roman name? or should I speak in favour of Censorenus, an enemy intime of war, an assassin in time of peace? or should I collect allthe other ruined men of that band of robbers? But I am so far fromextolling those enemies of tranquility, of concord, of the laws, ofthe courts of justice, and of liberty, that I cannot avoid hating themas much as I love the republic. "Beware, " says one, "how you offendthe veterans. " For this is what I am most constantly told. But Icertainly ought to protect the rights of the veterans; of those atleast who are well disposed; but surely I ought not to fear them. Andthose veterans who have taken up arms in the cause of the republic, and have followed Caius Caesar, remembering the kindnesses which theyreceived from his father, and who at this day are defending therepublic to their own great personal danger, --those I ought not onlyto defend, but to seek to procure additional advantages for them. Butthose also who remain quiet, such as the sixth and eighth legion, Iconsider worthy of great glory and praise. But as for those companionsof Antonius, who after they have devoured the benefits of Caesar, besiege the consul elect, threaten this city with fire and sword, andhave given themselves up to Saxa and Capho, men born for crime andplunder, who is there who thinks that those men ought to be defended?Therefore the veterans are either good men, whom we ought to load withdistinctions, or quiet men, whom we ought to preserve, or impiousones, against whose frenzy we have declared war and taken uplegitimate arms. 

XV. Who then are the veterans whom we are to be fearful of offending?Those who are desirous to deliver Decimus Brutus from siege? for howcan those men, to whom the safety of Brutus is dear, hate the name ofCassius? Or those men who abstain from taking arms on either side? Ihave no fear of any of those men who delight in tranquility becominga mischievous citizen. But as for the third class, whom I call notveteran soldiers, but infamous enemies, I wish to inflict on them themost bitter pain. Although, O conscript fathers, how long are we todeliver our opinions as it may please the veterans? why are we toyield so much to their haughtiness? why are we to make their arroganceof such importance as to choose our generals with reference to theirpleasure? But I (for I must speak, O conscript fathers, what I feel, )think that we ought not so much to regard the veterans, as to look atwhat the young soldiers, the flower of Italy--at what the new legions, most eager to effect the deliverance of their country--at what allItaly will think of your wisdom. For there is nothing which flourishesfor ever. Age succeeds age. The legions of Caesar have flourished for along time; but now those who are flourishing are the legions of Pansa, and the Legions of Hirtius, and the legions of the son of Caesar, andthe legions of Plancus. They surpass the veterans in number, they havethe advantage of youth, moreover, they surpass them also in authority. For they are engaged in waging that war which is approved of by allnations. Therefore, rewards have been promised to these latter. Tothe former they have been already paid, --let them enjoy them. But letthese others have those rewards given to them which we have promisedthem. For that is what I hope that the immortal gods will considerjust. 

And as this is the case, I give my vote for the proposition which Ihave made to you, O conscript fathers, being adopted by you. 

THE TWELFTH ORATION OF M T CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. CALLED ALSOTHE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Decimus Brutus was in such distress in Mutina, that his friends beganto be alarmed, fearing that, if he fell into the hands of Antonius, he would be treated as Trebonius had been. And, as the friends ofAntonius gave out that he was now more inclined to come to terms withthe senate, a proposition was made and supported by Pansa to send asecond embassy to him. And even Cicero at first consented to it, and allowed himself to be nominated with Servilius and three othersenators, all of consular rank, but on more mature reflection he wasconvinced that he had been guilty of a blunder, and that the object ofAntonius and his friends was only to gain time for Ventidius to joinhim with his three legions. Accordingly, at the next meeting of thesenate, he delivered the following speech, retracting his formersanction of the proposed embassy. And he spoke so strongly against it, that the measure was abandoned and Pansa soon afterwards marched withhis army to join Hirtius and Octavius, with the intention of forcingAntonius to a battle. 

I. Although, O conscript fathers it seems very unbecoming for thatman whose counsels you have so often adopted in the most importantaffairs, to be deceived and deluded, and to commit mistakes, yet Iconsole myself, since I made the mistake in company with you, and incompany also with a consul of the greatest wisdom. For when two men ofconsular rank had brought us hope of an honorable peace, they appearedas being friends and extremely intimate with Marcus Antonius, to beaware of some weak point about him with which we were unacquainted. His wife and children are in the house of one, the other is knownevery day to send letters to, to receive letters from, and openly tofavour Antonius. 

These men, then, appeared likely to have some reason for exhorting usto peace, which they had done for some time. The consul, too, addedthe weight of his exhortation, and what a consul! If we look forprudence, one who was not easily to be deceived; if for virtue andcourage, one who would never admit of peace unless Antonius submittedand confessed himself to be vanquished, if for greatness of mind, onewho would prefer death to slavery. You, too, O conscript fathers, appeared to be induced to think not of accepting but of imposingconditions, not so much because you were forgetful of your mostimportant and dignified resolutions, as because you had hopessuggested you of a surrender on the part of Antonius, which hisfriends preferred to call peace. My own hopes, and I imagine yoursalso, were increased by the circumstance of my hearing that the familyof Antonius was overwhelmed with distress, and that his wife wasincessantly lamenting. And in this assembly, too, I saw that thepartisans, on whose countenance my eyes are always dwelling, lookedmore sorrowful than usual. And if that is not so, why on a sudden hasmention been made of peace by Piso and Calenus of all people in theworld, why at this particular moment, why so unexpectedly? Pisodeclares that he knows nothing, that he has not heard anything. Calenus declares that no news has been brought. And they make thatstatement now, after they think that we are involved in a pacificembassy. What need have we, then, of any new determination, if no newcircumstances have arisen to call for one?

II. We have been deceived, --we have, I say, been deceived, O conscriptfathers. It is the cause of Antonius that has been pleaded by hisfriends, and not the cause of the public. And I did indeed see that, though through a sort of mist, the safety of Decimus Brutus haddazzled my eyesight. But if in war, substitutes were in the habit ofbeing given, I would gladly allow myself to be hemmed in, so longas Decimus Brutus might be released. But we were caught by thisexpression of Quintus Fufius; "Shall we not listen to Antonius, evenif he retires from Mutina? Shall we not, even if he declares that hewill submit himself to the authority of the senate?" It seemed harshto say that. Thus it was that we were broken, we yielded. Does he thenretire from Mutina? "I don't know. " Is he obeying the senate? "I thinkso" says Calenus, "but so as to preserve his own dignity at the sametime. " You then, O conscript fathers, are to make great exertions forthe express purpose of losing your own dignity, which is very great, and of preserving that of Antonius, which neither has nor can have anyexistence, and of enabling him to recover that by your conduct, whichhe has lost by his own. "But, however, that matter is not open forconsideration now, an embassy has been appointed. " But what is therewhich is not open for consideration to a wise man, as long as itcan be remodelled? Any man is liable to a mistake; but no one but adownright fool will persist in error. For second thoughts, as peoplesay, are best. The mist which I spoke of just now is dispelled, lighthas arisen, the case is plain--we see everything, and that not by ourown acuteness, but we are warned by our friends. 

You heard just now what was the statement made by a most admirableman. I found, said he, his house, his wife, his children, all in greatdistress. Good men marvelled at me, my friends blamed me for havingbeen led by the hope of peace to undertake an embassy. And no wonder, O Publius Servilius. For by your own most true and most weightyarguments Antonius was stripped, I do not say of all dignity, but ofeven every hope of safety. Who would not wonder if you were to goas an ambassador to him? I judge by my own case, for with regard tomyself I see how the same design as you conceived is found fault with. And are we the only people blamed? What? did that most gallant manspeak so long and so precisely a little while ago without any reason?What was he labouring for, except to remove from himself a groundlesssuspicion of treachery? And whence did that suspicion arise? From hisunexpected advocacy of peace, which he adopted all on a sudden, beingtaken in by the same error that we were. 

But if an error has been committed, O conscript fathers, owing to agroundless and fallacious hope, let us return into the right road. Thebest harbour for a penitent is a change of intention. 

III. For what, in the name of the immortal gods! what good can ourembassy do to the republic? What good, do I say? What will you say ifit will even do us harm? _Will_ do us harm? What if it already _has_done us harm? Do you suppose that that most energetic and fearlessdesire shown by the Roman people for recovery of their liberty hasbeen damped and weakened by hearing of this embassy for peace? Whatdo you think the municipal towns feel? and the colonies? What do youthink will be the feelings of all Italy? Do you suppose that it willcontinue to glow with the same zeal with which it burnt before toextinguish this common conflagration? Do we not suppose that thosemen will repent of having professed and displayed so much hatred toAntonius, who promised us money and arms, who devoted themselveswholly, body, heart, and soul, to the safety of the republic? How willCapua, which at the present time feels like a second Rome, approve ofthis design of yours? That city pronounced them impious citizens, castthem out, and kept them out. Antonius was barely saved from the handsof that city, which made a most gallant attempt to crush him. Need Isay more? Are we not by these proceedings cutting the sinews of ourown legions, for what man can engage with ardour in a war, when thehope of peace is suggested to him? Even that godlike and divineMartial legion will grow languid at and be cowed by the receipt ofthis news, and will lose that most noble title of Martial, theirswords will fall to the ground, their weapons will drop from theirhands. For, following the senate, it will not consider itself bound tofeel more bitter hatred against Antonius than the senate. 

I am ashamed for this legion, I am ashamed for the fourth legion, which, approving of our authority with equal virtue, abandonedAntonius, not looking upon him as their consul and general, but as anenemy and attacker of their country. I am ashamed for that admirablearmy which is made up of two armies, which has now been reviewed, andwhich has started for Mutina, and which, if it hears a word of peace, that is to say, of our fear, even if it does not return, will at allevents halt. For who, when the senate recals him and sounds a retreat, will be eager to engage in battle?[49]

IV. For what can be more unreasonable than for us to pass resolutionsabout peace without the knowledge of those men who wage the war? Andnot only without their knowledge, but even against their will? Do youthink that Aulus Hirtius, that most illustrious consul, and thatCarus Caesar, a man born by the especial kindness of the gods for thisespecial crisis, whose letters, announcing their hope of victory, Ihold in my hand, are desirous of peace? leader; and still we cannotbear the countenances or support the language of those men who areleft behind in the city out of their number. What do you think willbe the result when such numbers force their way into the city at onetime? when we have laid aside our arms and they have not laid asidetheirs? Must we not be defeated for everlasting, in consequence of ourown counsels?

Place before your eyes Marcus Antonius, as a man of consular rank, addto him Lucius, hoping to obtain the consulship, join to them all therest, and those too not confined to our order, who are fixing thenthoughts on honours and commands. Do not despise the Tiros, and theNumisii, or the Mustellae, or the Seii. A peace made with those menwill not be peace, but a covenant of slavery. That was in admirableexpression of Lucius Piso, a most honourable man, and one which hasbeen deservedly praised by you O Pansa, not only in this order, butalso in the assembly of the people. He said, that he would depart fromItaly, and leave his household gods and his native home, if (but mightthe gods avert such a disaster!) Antonius overwhelmed the republic. 

VII. I ask, therefore, of you, O Lucius Piso, whether you would notthink the republic overwhelmed if so many men of such impiety, of suchaudacity, and such guilt, were admitted into it? Can you think thatmen whom we could hardly bear when they were not yet polluted withsuch parricidal treasons; will be able to be borne by the city nowthat they are immersed in every sort of wickedness? Believe me, wemust either adopt your plan, and retire, depart, embrace a life ofindigence and wandering, or else we must offer our throats to thoserobbers, and perish in our country. What has become, O Carus Pansa, ofthose noble exhortations of yours, by which the senate was roused, andthe Roman people stimulated, not only hearing but also learning fromyou that there is nothing more disgraceful to a Roman than slavery?Was it for this that we assumed the garb of war, and took arms androused up all the youth all over Italy, in order that while we had amost flourishing and numerous army, we might send ambassadors to treatfor peace? If that peace is to be received by others, why do we notwait to be entreated for it? If our ambassadors are to beg it, what isit that we are afraid of? Shall I make one of this embassy, or shall Ibe mixed up with this design, in which, even if I should dissent fromthe rest of my colleagues, the Roman people will not know it? Theresult will be that if anything be granted or conceded, it will be mydanger if Antonius commits any offences, since the power to committhem will seem to have been put in his hands by me. 

But even if it had been proper to entertain any idea of peace with thepiratical crew of Marcus Antonius, still I was the last person whoought to have been selected to negotiate such a peace. I never votedfor sending ambassadors. Before the return of the last ambassadors Iventured to say, that peace itself, even if they did bring it, oughtto be repudiated, since war would be concealed under the name ofpeace; I was the chief adviser of the adoption of the garb of war, Ihave invariably called that man a public enemy, when others have beencalling him only an adversary, I have always pronounced this to be awar, while others have styled it only a tumult Nor have I done thisin the senate alone; I have always acted in the same way before thepeople. Nor have I spoken against himself only, but also against theaccomplices in and agents of his crimes, whether present here, orthere with him. In short, I have at all times inveighed against thewhole family and party of Antonius. Therefore, as those impiouscitizens began to congratulate one another the moment the hope ofpeace was presented to them, as if they had gained the victory, soalso they abused me as unjust, they made complaints against me, theydistrusted Servilius also, they recollected that Antonius had beendamaged by his avowed opinions and propositions, they recollected thatLucius Caesar, though a brave and consistent senator, is still hisuncle, that Calenus is his agent, that Piso is his intimate friend, they think that you yourself, O Pansa, though a most vigorous andfearless consul, are now become more mercifully inclined. Not that itreally is so, or that it possibly can be so. But the fact of a mentionof peace having been made by you, has given rise to a suspicion in thehearts of many, that you have changed your mind a little. The friendsof Antonius are annoyed at my being included among these persons, and we must no doubt yield to them, since we have once begun to beliberal. 

VIII. Let the ambassadors go, with all our good wishes, but let thosemen go at whom Antonius may take no offence. But if you are notanxious about what he may think, at all events. O conscript fathers, you ought to have some regard for me. At least spare my eyes, and makesome allowance for a just indignation. For with what countenance shallI be able to behold, (I do not say, the enemy of my country, for myhatred of him on that score I feel in common with you all, ) but howshall I bear to look upon that man who is my own most bitter personalenemy, as his most furious harangues against me plainly declare him?Do you think that I am so completely made of iron as to be ableunmoved to meet him, or look at him? who lately, when in an assemblyof the people he was making presents to those men who appeared to himthe most audacious of his band of parricidal traitors, said thathe gave my property to Petissius of Urbinum, a man who, after theshipwreck of a very splendid patrimony, was dashed against these rocksof Antonius. Shall I be able to bear the sight of Lucius Antonius? aman from whose cruelty I could not have escaped if I had not defendedmyself behind the walls and gates and by the zeal of my own municipaltown. And this same Asiatic gladiator, this plunderer of Italy, thiscolleague of Lenti and Nucula, when he was giving some pieces ofgold to Aquila the centurion, said that he was giving him some of myproperty. For, if he had said he was giving him some of his own, hethought that the eagle itself would not have believed it. My eyescannot--my eyes, I say, will not bear the sight of Saxa, or Capho, orthe two praetors, or the tribune of the people, or the two tribuneselect, or Bestia, or Trebellius, or Titus Plancus. I cannot look withequanimity on so many, and those such foul, such wicked enemies;nor is that feeling caused by any fastidiousness of mine, but by myaffection for the republic. But I will subdue my feelings, and keep myown inclinations under restraint. If I cannot eradicate my most justindignation, I will conceal it. What? Do you not think, O Conscriptfathers, that I should have some regard for my own life? But thatindeed has never been an object of much concern to me, especiallysince Dolabella has acted in such a way that death is a desirablething, provided it come without torments and tortures. But in youreyes and in those of the Roman people my life ought not to appear ofno consequence. For I am a man, --unless indeed I am deceived in myestimate of myself, --who by my vigilance, and anxiety, by the opinionswhich I have delivered, and by the dangers too of which I haveencountered great numbers, by reason of the most bitter hatred whichall impious men bear me, have at least, (not to seem to say anythingtoo boastful, ) conducted myself so as to be no injury to the republic. And as this is the case, do you think that I ought to have noconsideration for my own danger?

IX. Even here, when I was in the city and at home, nevertheless manyattempts were made against me, in a place where I have not only thefidelity of my friends but the eyes also of the entire city to guardme. What do you think will be the case when I have gone on a journey, and that too a long one? Do you think that I shall have no occasionto fear plots then? There are three roads to Mutina, a place which mymind longs to see, in order that I may behold as speedily as possiblethat pledge of freedom of the Roman people Decimus Brutus, in whoseembrace I would willingly yield up my parting breath, when all myactions for the last many months, and all my opinions and propositionshave resulted in the end which I proposed to myself. There are, as Ihave said, three roads, the Flaminian road, along the Adriatic, theAurelian road, along the Mediterranean coast, the Midland road, whichis called the Cassian. 

Now, take notice, I beg of you, whether my suspicion of danger tomyself is at variance with a reasonable conjecture. The Cassian roadgoes through Etruria. Do we not know then, O Pansa, over what placesthe authority of Lenti Caesennius, as a septemvir, prevails atpresent? He certainly is not on our side either in mind or body. Butif he is at home, or not far from home, he is certainly in Etruria, that is, in my road. Who, then, will undertake to me that Lenti willbe content with exacting one life alone? Tell me besides, O Pansa, where Ventidius is, --a man to whom I have always been friendly beforehe became so openly an enemy to the republic and to all good men. Imay avoid the Cassian road, and take the Flaminian. What if, as it issaid, Ventidius has arrived at Ancona? Shall I be able in that caseto reach Ariminum in safety? The Aurelian road remains and here tooI shall find a, protector, for on that road are the possessions ofPublius Clodius. His whole household will come out to meet me, andwill invite me to partake of their hospitality, on account of mynotorious intimacy with their master?

X. Shall I then trust myself to those roads--I who lately, on the dayof the feast of Terminus, did not dare even to go into the suburbs andreturn by the same road on the same day? I can scarcely defend myselfwithin the walls of my own house without the protection of my friends;therefore I remain in the city; and if I am allowed to do so I willremain. This is my proper place, this is my beat, this is my post asa sentinel, this is my station as a defender of the city. Let othersoccupy camps and kingdoms, and engage in the conduct of the war; letthem show the active hatred of the enemy; we, as we say, and as wehave always hitherto done, will, in common with you, defend thecity and the affairs of the city. Nor do I shrink from this office;although I see the Roman people shrink from it for me. No one is lesstimid than I am; no one more cautious. The facts speak for themselves. This is the twentieth year that I have been a mark for the attempts ofall wicked men; therefore, they have paid to the republic (not tosay to me) the penalty of their wickedness. As yet the republic haspreserved me in safety for itself. I am almost afraid to say what I amgoing to say; for I know that any accident may happen to a man; butstill, when I was once hemmed in by the united force of many mostinfluential men, I yielded voluntarily, and fell in such a manner asto be able to rise again in the most honourable manner. 

Can I, then, appear as cautious and as prudent as I ought to be if Icommit myself to a journey so full of enemies and dangers to me? Thosemen who are concerned in the government of the republic ought at theirdeath to leave behind them glory, and not reproaches for their fault, or grounds for blaming their folly. What good man is there who doesnot mourn for the death of Trebonius? Who is there who does not grievefor the loss of such a citizen and such a man? But there are men whosay, (hastily indeed, but still they do say so, ) that he deserves tobe grieved for less because he did not take precautions against adesperately wicked man. In truth, a man who professes to be himself adefender of many men, wise men say, ought in the first place to showhimself able to protect his own life. I say, that when one is fencedround by the laws and by the fear of justice, a man is not bound to beafraid of everything, or to take precautions against all imaginabledesigns; for who would dare to attack a man in daylight, on a militaryroad, or a man who was well attended, or an illustrious man? But theseconsiderations have no bearing on the present time, nor in my case;for not only would a man who offered violence to me have no fear ofpunishment, but he would even hope to obtain glory and rewards fromthose bands of robbers. 

XI. These dangers I can guard against in the city; it is easy for meto look around and see where I am going out from, whither I am going, what there is on my right hand, and on my left. Shall I be able to dothe same on the roads of the Apennines? in which, even if there shouldbe no ambush, as there easily may be, still my mind will be kept insuch a state of anxiety as not to be able to attend to the duties ofan embassy. But suppose I have escaped all plots against me, and havepassed over the Apennines; still I have to encounter a meeting andconference with Antonius. What place am I to select? If it is outsidethe camp, the rest may look to themselves, --I think that death wouldcome upon me instantly. I know the frenzy of the man; I know hisunbridled violence. The ferocity of his manners and the savageness ofhis nature is not usually softened even by wine. Then, inflamed byanger and insanity, with his brother Lucius, that foulest of beasts, at his side, he will never keep his sacrilegious and impious handsfrom me. I can recollect conferences with most bitter enemies, andwith citizens in a state of the most bitter disagreement. 

Cnaeus Pompeius, the son of Sextus, being consul, in my presence, whenI was serving my first campaign in his army, had a conference withPublius Vettius Scato, the general of the Marsians, between the camps. And I recollect that Sextus Pompeius, the brother of the consul, avery learned and wise man, came thither from Rome to the conference. And when Scato had saluted him, "What, " said he, "am I to callyou?"--"Call me, " said he, "one who is by inclination a friend, bynecessity an enemy. " That conference was conducted with fairness;there was no fear, no suspicion; even their mutual hatred was notgreat; for the allies were not seeking to take our city from us, butto be themselves admitted to share the privileges of it. Sylla andScipio, one attended by the flower of the nobility, the other by theallies, had a conference between Cales and Teanum, respecting theauthority of the senate, the suffrages of the people, and theprivileges of citizenship; and agreed upon conditions andstipulations. Good faith was not strictly observed at that conference;but still there was no violence used, and no danger incurred. 

XII. But can we be equally safe among Antonius's piratical crew? Wecannot; or, even if the rest can, I do not believe that I can. Whatwill be the case if we are not to confer out of the camp? What campis to be chosen for the conference? He will never come into ourcamp:--much less will we go to his. It follows then, that all demandsmust be received and sent to and fro by means of letters. We thenshall be in our respective camps. On all his demands I shall have butone opinion; and when I have stated it here, in your hearing, you maythink that I have gone, and that I have come back again. --I shall havefinished my embassy. As far as my sentiments can prevail I shall referevery demand which Antonius makes to the senate. For, indeed, we haveno power to do otherwise; nor have we received any commission fromthis assembly, such as, when a war is terminated, is usually, inaccordance with the precedents of your ancestors, entrusted to theambassadors. Nor, in fact, have we received any particular commissionfrom the senate at all. 

And, as I shall pursue this line of conduct in the council, wheresome, as I imagine, will oppose it, have I not reason to fear that theignorant mob may think that peace is delayed by my means? Suppose nowthat the new legions do not disapprove of my resolution. For I amquite sure that the Martial legion and the fourth legion will notapprove of anything which is contrary to dignity and honour. Whatthen? have we no regard for the opinion of the veterans? For eventhey themselves do not wish to be feared by us. --Still, how willthey receive my severity? For they have heard many false statementsconcerning me; wicked men have circulated among them many calumniesagainst me. Their advantage indeed, as you all are most perfectwitnesses of, I have always promoted by my opinion, by my authority, and by my language. But they believe wicked men, they believeseditious men, they believe their own party. They are, indeed, bravemen; but by reason of their exploits which they have performed in thecause of the freedom of the Roman people and of the safety of therepublic they are too ferocious and too much inclined to bring allour counsels under the sway of their own violence. Their deliberatereflection I am not afraid of, but I confess I dread theirimpetuosity. 

If I escape all these great dangers too, do you think my return willbe completely safe? For when I have, according to my usual custom, defended your authority, and have proved my good faith towards therepublic, and my firmness; then I shall have to fear, not those menalone who hate me, but those also who envy me. Let my life then bepreserved for the republic, let it be kept for the service of mycountry as long as my dignity or nature will permit; and let deatheither be the necessity of fate, or, if it must be encounteredearlier, let it be encountered with glory. 

This being the case, although the republic has no need (to say theleast of it) of this embassy, still if it be possible for me to go onit in safety, I am willing to go. Altogether, O conscript fathers, I shall regulate the whole of my conduct in this affair, not by anyconsideration of my own danger, but by the advantage of the republic. And, as I have plenty of time, I think that it behoves me todeliberate upon that over and over again, and to adopt that line ofconduct which I shall judge to be most beneficial to the republic. 

THE THIRTEENTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. CALLEDALSO THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Antonius wrote a long letter to Hirtius and to Octavius, to persuadethem that they were acting against their true interests and dignityin combining with the slayers of Julius Caesar against him. But they, instead of answering this letter, sent it to Cicero at Rome. At thesame time Lepidus wrote a public letter to the senate to exhort themto measures of peace; and to a reconciliation with Antonius; and tookno notice of the public honours which had been decreed to him incompliance with Cicero's motion. The senate was much displeased atthis. They agreed, however, to a proposal of Servilius--to thankLepidus for his love of peace, but to desire him to leave that tothem; as there could be no peace till Antonius had laid down his arms. But Antonius's friends were encouraged by Lepidus's letter to renewtheir suggestions of a treaty; which caused Cicero to deliver thefollowing speech to the senate for the purpose of counteracting theinfluence of their arguments. 

I. From the first beginning, O conscript fathers, of this war which wehave undertaken against those impious and wicked citizens, I have beenafraid lest the insidious proposals of peace might damp our zeal forthe recovery of our liberty. But the name of peace is sweet; and thething itself not only pleasant but salutary. For a man seems to haveno affection either for the private hearths of the citizens, nor forthe public laws, nor for the rights of freedom, who is delighted withdiscord and the slaughter of his fellow-citizens, and with civil war;and such a man I think ought to be erased from the catalogue of men, and exterminated from all human society. Therefore, if Sylla, orMarius, or both of them, or Octavius, or Cinna, or Sylla for thesecond time, or the other Marius and Carbo, or if any one else hasever wished for civil war, I think that man a citizen born for thedetestation of the republic. For why should I speak of the last manwho stirred up such a war; a man whose acts, indeed, we defend, whilewe admit that the author of them was deservedly slain? Nothing, then, is more infamous than such a citizen or such a man; if indeed hedeserves to be considered either a citizen or a man, who is desirousof civil war. 

But the first thing that we have to consider, O conscript fathers, is whether peace can exist with all men, or whether there be any warincapable of reconciliation, in which any agreement of peace is onlya covenant of slavery. Whether Sylla was making peace with Scipio, or whether he was only pretending to do so, there was no reason todespair, if an agreement had been come to, that the city might havebeen in a tolerable state. If Cinna had been willing to agree withOctavius, the safety of the citizens might still have had an existencein the republic. In the last war, if Pompeius had relaxed somewhatof his dignified firmness, and Caesar a good deal of his ambition, wemight have had both a lasting peace, and some considerable remainderof the republic. 

II. But what is the state of things now? Is it possible for thereto be peace with Antonius? with Censorinus, and Ventidius, andTrebellius, and Bestia, and Nucula, and Munatius, and Lento, and Saxa?I have just mentioned a few names as a specimen; you yourselves seethe countless numbers and savage nature of the rest of the host. Add, besides the wrecks of Caesar's party, the Barbae Cassii, the Barbatii, the Pollios; add the companions and fellow-gamblers of Antonius, Eutrapelus, and Mela, and Coelius, and Pontius, and Crassicius, andTiro, and Mustela, and Petissius; I say nothing of the main body, Iam only naming the leaders. To these are added the legionaries of theAlauda and the rest of the veterans, the seminary of the judges of thethird decury; who, having exhausted their own estates, and squanderedall the fruits of Caesar's kindness, have now set their hearts on ourfortunes. Oh that trustworthy right hand of Antonius, with which hehas murdered many citizens! Oh that regularly ratified and solemntreaty which we made with the Antonii! Surely if Marcus shall attemptto violate it, the conscientious piety of Lucius will call him backfrom such wickedness. If there is any room allowed these men in thiscity, there will be no room for the city itself. Place before youreyes, O conscript fathers, the countenances of those men, andespecially the countenances of the Antonii. Mark their gait, theirlook, their face, their arrogance; mark those friends of theirs whowalk by their side, who follow them, who precede them. What breathreeking of wine, what insolence, what threatening language do you notthink there will be there? Unless, indeed, the mere fact of peace isto soften them, and unless you expect that, especially when they comeinto this assembly, they will salute every one of us kindly, andaddress us courteously. 

III. Do you not recollect, in the name of the immortal gods! whatresolutions you have given utterance to against those men? You haverepealed the acts of Marcus Antonius; you have taken down his laws;you have voted that they were carried by violence, and with adisregard of the auspices; you have called out the levies throughoutall Italy; you have pronounced that colleague and ally of allwickedness a public enemy. What peace can there be with this man? Evenif he were a foreign enemy, still, after such actions as have takenplace, it would be scarcely possible, by any means whatever, to havepeace. Though seas and mountains, and vast regions lay between you, still you would hate such a man without seeing him. But these men willstick to your eyes, and when they can, to your very throats; for whatfences will be strong enough for us to restrain savage beasts?--Oh, but the result of war is uncertain. It is at all events in the powerof brave men, such as you ought to be, to display your valour, (forcertainly brave men can do that, ) and not to fear the caprice offortune. 

But since it is not only courage but wisdom also which is expectedfrom this order, (although these qualities appear scarcely possible tobe separated, still let us separate them here, ) courage bids us fight, inflames our just hatred, urges us to the conflict, summons us todanger. What says wisdom? She uses more cautious counsels, sheis provident for the future, she is in every respect more on thedefensive. What then does she think? for we must obey her, and we arebound to consider that the best thing which is arranged in the mostprudent manner. If she enjoins me to think nothing of more consequencethan my life, not to fight at the risk of my life, but to avoid alldanger, I will then ask her whether I am also to become a slave whenI have obeyed all these injunctions? If she says, yes, I for one willnot listen to that Wisdom, however learned she may be, but if theanswer is, Preserve your life and your safety, Preserve your fortune, "Preserve your estate, still, however, considering all these things ofless value than liberty, therefore enjoy these things if you can doso consistently with the freedom of the republic, and do not abandonliberty for them, but sacrifice them for liberty, as proofs of theinjury you have sustained, "--then I shall think that I really amlistening to the voice of Wisdom, and I will obey her as a god. Therefore, if when we have received those men we can still be free, let us subdue our hatred to them, and endure peace, but if there canbe no tranquillity while those men are in safety, then let us rejoicethat an opportunity of fighting them is put in our power. For so, either (these men being conquered) we shall enjoy the republicvictorious, or, if we be defeated (but may Jupiter avert thatdisaster), we shall live, if not with an actual breath, at all eventsin the renown of our valour. 

IV. But Marcus Lepidus, having been a second time styled Imperator, Pontifex Maximus, a man who deserved excellently well of the republicin the last civil war, exhorts us to peace. No one, O conscriptfathers, has greater weight with me than Marcus Lepidus, both onaccount of his personal virtues and by reason of the dignity of hisfamily. There are also private reasons which influence me, such asgreat services he has done me, and some kindnesses which I have donehim. But the greatest of his services I consider to be his being ofsuch a disposition as he is towards the republic, which has at alltimes been dearer to me than my life. For when by his influence heinclined Magnus Pompeius, a most admirable young man, the son ofone of the greatest of men, to peace, and without arms released therepublic from imminent danger of civil war, by so doing he laid meunder as great obligations as it was in the power of any man to do. Therefore I proposed to decree to him the most ample honours that werein my power, in which you agreed with me, nor have I ceased both tothink and speak in the highest terms of him. The republic has MarcusLepidus bound to it by many pledges. He is a man of the highest rank, of the greatest honours, he has the most honourable priesthood, andhas received numberless distinctions in the city. There are monumentsof himself, and of his brother, and of his ancestors; he has a mostexcellent wife, children such as any man might desire, an ample familyestate, untainted with the blood of his fellow-citizens. No citizenhas been injured by him; many have been delivered from misery by hiskindness and pity. Such a man and such a citizen may indeed err inhis opinion, but it is quite impossible for him in inclination to beunfriendly to the republic. 

Marcus Lepidus is desirous of peace. He does well especially if he canmake such a peace as he made lately, owing to which the republic willbehold the son of Cnaeus Pompeius, and will receive him in her bosomand embrace; and will think, that not he alone, but that she also isrestored to herself with him. This was the reason why you decreed tohim a statue in the rostra with an honourable inscription, and whyyou voted him a triumph in his absence. For although he had performedgreat exploits in war, and such as well deserved a triumph, still forthat he might not have had that given to him which was not given toLucius aemilius, nor to aemilianus Scipio, nor to the former Africanus, nor to Marius, nor to Pompeius, who had the conduct of greater warsthan he had, but because he had put an end to a civil war in perfectsilence, the first moment that it was in his power, on that accountyou conferred on him the greatest honours. 

V. Do you think, then, O Marcus Lepidus, that the Antonii will be tothe republic such citizens as she will find Pompeius? In the one thereis modesty, gravity, moderation, integrity; in them (and when I speakof them, I do not mean to omit one of that band of pirates), there islust, and wickedness, and savage audacity capable of every crime. Ientreat of you, O conscript fathers, which of you fails to see thiswhich Fortune herself, who is called blind, sees? For, saving the actsof Caesar, which we maintain for the sake of harmony, his own housewill be open to Pompeius, and he will redeem it for the same sum forwhich Antonius bought it. Yes, I say the son of Cnaeus Pompeius willbuy back his house. O melancholy circumstance! But these things havebeen already lamented long and bitterly enough. You have voted a sumof money to Cnaeus Pompeius, equal to that which his conqueringenemy had appropriated to himself of his father's property in thedistribution of his booty. But I claim permission to manage thisdistribution myself, as due to my connexion and intimacy with hisfather. He will buy back the villas, the houses, and some of theestates in the city which Antonius is in possession of. For as for thesilver plate, the garments, the furniture, and the wine which thatglutton has made away with, those things he will lose withoutforfeiting his equanimity. The Alban and Firmian villas he willrecover from Dolabella; the Tusculan villa he will also recover fromAntonius. And these Ansers who are joining in the attack on Mutina andin the blockade of Decimus Brutus will be driven from his Falernianvilla. There are many others, perhaps, who will be made to disgorgetheir plunder, but their names escape my memory. I say, too, thatthose men who are not in the number of our enemies, will be made torestore the possessions of Pompeius to his son for the price at whichthey bought them. It was the act of a sufficiently rash man, not tosay an audacious one, to touch a single particle of that property;but who will have the face to endeavour to retain it, when its mostillustrious owner is restored to his country? Will not that manrestore his plunder, who enfolding the patrimony of his master inhis embrace, clinging to the treasure like a dragon, the slave ofPompeius, the freedman of Caesar, has seized upon his estates inthe Lucanian district? And as for those seven hundred millions ofsesterces which you, O conscript fathers, promised to the young man, they will be recovered in such a manner that the son of Cnaeus Pompeiuswill appear to have been established by you in his patrimony. Thisis what the senate must do; the Roman people will do the restwith respect to that family which was at one time one of the mosthonourable it ever saw. In the first place, it will invest him withhis father's honour as an augur, for which rank I will nominate himand promote his election, in order that I may restore to the son whatI received from the father. Which of these men will the Roman peoplemost willingly sanction as the augur of the all-powerful andall-great Jupiter, whose interpreters and messengers we have beenappointed, --Pompeius or Antonius? It seems indeed, to me, that Fortunehas managed this by the divine aid of the immortal gods, that, leavingthe acts of Caesar firmly ratified, the son of Cnaeus Pompeius mightstill be able to recover the dignities and fortunes of his father. 

VI. And I think, O conscript fathers, that we ought not to pass overthat fact either in silence, --that those illustrious men who areacting as ambassadors, Lucius Paullus, Quintus Thermus, and CaiusFannius, whose inclinations towards the republic you are thoroughlyacquainted with, and also with the constancy and firmness of thatfavourable inclination, report that they turned aside to Marseillesfor the purpose of conferring with Pompeius, and that they found himin a disposition very much inclined to go with his troops to Mutina, if he had not been afraid of offending the minds of the veterans. Buthe is a true son of that father who did quite as many things wiselyas he did bravely. Therefore you perceive that his courage was quiteready, and that prudence was not wanting to him. 

And this, too, is what Marcus Lepidus ought to take care of, --notto appear to act in any respect with more arrogance than suits hischaracter. For if he alarms us with his army, he is forgetting thatthat army belongs to the senate, and to the Roman people, and to thewhole republic, not to himself. "But he has the power to use it asif it were his own. " What then? Does it become virtuous men to doeverything which it is in their power to do? Suppose it be a basething? Suppose it be a mischievous thing? Suppose it be absolutelyunlawful to do it?

But what can be more base, or more shameful, or more utterlyunbecoming, than to lead an army against the senate, against one'sfellow-citizens, against one's country? Or what can deserve greaterblame than doing that which is unlawful? But it is not lawful for anyone to lead an army against his country? if indeed we say that that islawful which is permitted by the laws or by the usages and establishedprinciples of our ancestors. For it does not follow that whatevera man has power to do is lawful for him to do; nor, if he be nothindered, is he on that account permitted to do so. For to you, OLepidus, as to your ancestors, your country has given an army to beemployed in her cause. With this army you are to repel the enemy, youare to extend the boundaries of the empire, you are to obey the senateand people of Rome, if by any chance they direct you to some otherobject. 

VII. If these are your thoughts, then are you really Marcus Lepidusthe Pontifex Maximus, the great-grandson of Marcus Lepidus, PontifexMaximus. If you judge that everything is lawful for men to do thatthey have the power to do, then beware lest you seem to prefer actingon precedents set by those who have no connexion with you, and these, too, modern precedents, to being guided by the ancient examples inyour own family. But if you interpose your authority without havingrecourse to arms, in that case indeed I praise you more; but bewarelest this thing itself be quite unnecessary. For although there is allthe authority in you that there ought to be in a man of the highestrank, still the senate itself does not despise itself; nor was it evermore wise, more firm, more courageous. We are all hurried on with themost eager zeal to recover our freedom. Such a general ardour on thepart of the senate and people of Rome cannot be extinguished by theauthority of any one: we hate a man who would extinguish it; we areangry with him, and resist him; our arms cannot be wrested from ourhands; we are deaf to all signals for retreat, to all recal from thecombat. We hope for the happiest success; we will prefer enduring thebitterest disaster to being slaves. Caesar has collected an invinciblearmy. Two perfectly brave consuls are present with their forces. Thevarious and considerable reinforcements of Lucius Plancus, consulelect, are not wanting. The contest is for the safety of DecimusBrutus. One furious gladiator, with a band of most infamous robbers, is waging war against his country, against our household gods, againstour altars and our hearths, against four consuls. Shall we yield tohim? Shall we listen to the conditions which he proposes? Shall webelieve it possible for peace to be made with him?

VIII. But there is danger of our being overwhelmed. I have no fearthat the man who cannot enjoy his own most abundant fortunes, unlessall the good men are saved, will betray his own safety. It is naturewhich first makes good citizens, and then fortune assists them. For itis for the advantage of all good men that the republic should be safe;but that advantage appears more clearly in the case of those who arefortunate. Who is more fortunate than Lentulus, as I said before, andwho is more sensible? The Roman people saw his sorrow and his tears atthe Lupercal festival. They saw how miserable, how overwhelmed he waswhen Antonius placed a diadem on Caesar's head and preferred being hisslave to being his colleague. And even if he had been able to abstainfrom his other crimes and wickednesses, still on account of that onesingle action I should think him worthy of all punishment. For even ifhe himself was calculated to be a slave, why should he impose a masteron us? And if his childhood had borne the lusts of those men who weretyrants over him, was he on that account to prepare a master and atyrant to lord it over our children? Therefore since that man wasslain, he himself has behaved to all others in the same manner as hewished him to behave to us. 

For in what country of barbarians was there ever so foul and cruel atyrant as Antonius, escorted by the arms of barbarians, has proved inthis city? When Caesar was exercising the supreme power, we used tocome into the senate, if not with freedom, at all events with safety. But under this arch-pirate, (for why should I say tyrant?) thesebenches were occupied by Itureans. On a sudden he hastened toBrundusium, in order to come against this city from thence witha regular army. He deluged Suessa, a most beautiful town, now ofmunicipal citizens, formerly of most honourable colonists, with theblood of the bravest soldiers. At Brundusium he massacred the chosencenturions of the Martial legion in the lap of his wife, who was notonly most avaricious but also most cruel. After that with what fury, with what eagerness did he hurry on to the city, that is to say, tothe slaughter of every virtuous man! But at that time the immortalgods brought to us a protector whom we had never seen nor expected. 

IX. For the incredible and godlike virtue of Caesar checked the crueland frantic onslaught of that robber, whom then that madman believedthat he was injuring with his edicts, ignorant that all the chargeswhich he was falsely alleging against that most righteous young man, were all very appropriate to the recollections of his own childhood. He entered the city, with what an escort, or rather with what a troop!when on the right hand and on the left, amid the groans of the Romanpeople, he was threatening the owners of property, taking notes of thehouses, and openly promising to divide the city among his followers. He returned to his soldiers; then came that mischievous assembly atTibur. From thence he hurried to the city; the senate was convened atthe Capitol. A decree with the authority of the consuls was preparedfor proscribing the young man; when all on a sudden (for he was awarethat the Martial legion had encamped at Alba) news is brought him ofthe proceedings of the fourth legion. 

Alarmed at that, he abandoned his intention of submitting a motion tothe senate respecting Caesar. He departed not by the regular roads, butby the by-lanes, in the robe of a general; and on that very self-sameday he trumped up a countless number of resolutions of the senate; allof which he published even before they were drawn up. From thence itwas not a journey, but a race and flight into Gaul. He thought thatCaesar was pursuing him with the fourth legion, with the martiallegion, with the veterans, whose very name he could not endure forfright. Then, as he was making his way into Gaul, Decimus Brutusopposed him; who preferred being himself surrounded by the waves ofthe whole war, to allowing him either to retreat or advance; and whoput Mutina on him as a sort of bridle to his exultation. And when hehad blockaded that city with his works and fortifications, and whenthe dignity of a most flourishing colony, and the majesty of a consulelect, were both insufficient to deter him from his parricidaltreason, then, (I call you, and the Roman people, and all the gods whopreside over this city, to witness, ) against my will, and in spite ofmy resistance and remonstrance, three ambassadors of consular rankwere sent to that robber, to that leader of gladiators, MarcusAntonius. 

Who ever was such a barbarian? Who was ever so savage? so brutal? Hewould not listen to them; he gave them no answer; and he not onlydespised and showed that he considered of no importance those men whowere with him, but still more us, by whom these men had been sent. Andafterwards what wickedness, or what crime was there which that traitorabstained from? He blockaded your colonists, and the army of the Romanpeople, and your general, and your consul elect. He lays waste thelands of a nation of most excellent citizens. Like a most inhumanenemy he threatens all virtuous men with crosses and tortures. 

X. Now what peace, O Marcus Lepidus, can exist with this man? when itdoes not seem that there is even any punishment which the Roman peoplecan think adequate to his crimes?

But if any one has hitherto been able to doubt the fact, that therecan be nothing whatever in common between this order and the Romanpeople and that most detestable beast, let him at least cease toentertain such a doubt, when he becomes acquainted with this letterwhich I have just received, it having been sent to me by Hirtius theconsul. While I read it, and while I briefly discuss each paragraph, Ibeg, O conscript fathers, that you will listen to me most attentively, as you have hitherto done. 

"Antonius to Hirtius and Caesar. "

He does not call himself imperator, nor Hirtius consul, nor Caesarpro-praetor. This is cunningly done enough. He preferred laying asidea title to which he had no right himself, to giving them their properstyle. 

"When I heard of the death of Caius Trebonius, I was not more rejoicedthan grieved. "

Take notice why he says he rejoiced, why he says that he was grieved;and then you will be more easily able to decide the question of peace. 

"It was a matter of proper rejoicing that a wicked man had paid thepenalty due to the bones and ashes of a most illustrious man, and thatthe divine power of the gods had shown itself before the end of thecurrent year, by showing the chastisement of that parricide alreadyinflicted in some cases, and impending in others. "

O you Spartacus! for what name is more fit for you? you whoseabominable wickedness is such as to make even Catiline seem tolerable. Have you dared to write that it is a matter of rejoicing thatTrebonius has suffered punishment? that Trebonius was wicked? What washis crime, except that on the ides of March he withdrew you from thedestruction which you had deserved? Come; you rejoice at this; let ussee what it is that excites your indignation. 

"That Dolabella should at this time have been pronounced a publicenemy because he has slain an assassin; and that the son of a buffoonshould appear dearer to the Roman people than Caius Caesar, the fatherof his country, are circumstances to be lamented. "

Why should you be sad because Dolabella has been pronounced a publicenemy? Why? Are you not aware that you yourself--by the fact of anenlistment having taken place all over Italy, and of the consuls beingsent forth to war, and of Caesar having received great honours, andof the garb of war having been assumed--have also been pronounced anenemy? And what reason is there, O you wicked man, for lamenting thatDolabella has been declared an enemy by the senate? a body which youindeed think of no consequence at all; but you make it your mainobject in waging war utterly to destroy the senate, and to make allthe rest of those who are either virtuous or wealthy follow the fateof the highest order of all. But he calls him the son of a buffoon. Asif that noble Roman knight the father of Trebonius were unknown to us. And does he venture to look down on any one because of the meanness ofhis birth, when he has himself children by Fadia?

XL "But it is the bitterest thing of all that you, O Aulus Hirtius, who have been distinguished by Caesar's kindness, and who have beenleft by him in a condition which you yourself marvel at. [lacuna]"

I cannot indeed deny that Aulus Hirtius was distinguished by Caesar, but such distinctions are only of value when conferred on virtue andindustry. But you, who cannot deny that you also were distinguishedby Caesar, what would you have been if he had not showered so manykindnesses on you? Where would your own good qualities have borne you?Where would your birth have conducted you? You would have spent thewhole period of your manhood in brothels, and cookshops, and ingambling and drinking, as you used to do when you were always buryingyour brains and your beard in the laps of actresses. 

"And you too, O boy--"

He calls him a boy whom he has not only experienced and shall againexperience to be a man, but one of the bravest of men. It is indeedthe name appropriate to his age; but he is the last man in the worldwho ought to use it, when it is his own madness that has opened tothis boy the path to glory. 

"You who owe everything to his name--"

He does indeed owe everything, and nobly is he paying it. For if hewas the father of his country, as you call him, (I will see hereafterwhat my opinion of that matter is, ) why is not this youth still moretruly our father, to whom it certainly is owing that we are nowenjoying life, saved out of your most guilty hands!

"Are taking pains to have Dolabella legally condemned. "

A base action, truly! by which the authority of this most honourableorder is defended against the insanity of a most inhuman gladiator. 

"And to effect the release of this poisoner from blockade. "

Do you dare to call that man a poisoner who has found a remedy againstyour own poisoning tricks? and whom you are besieging in such amanner, O you new Hannibal, (or if there was ever any abler generalthan he, ) as to blockade yourself, and to be unable to extricateyourself from your present position, should you be ever so desirous todo so? Suppose you retreat; they will all pursue you from all sides. Suppose you stay where you are; you will be caught. You are veryright, certainly, to call him a poisoner, by whom you see that yourpresent disastrous condition has been brought about. 

"In order that Cassius and Brutus may become as powerful as possible. "

Would you suppose that he is speaking of Censorinus, or of Ventidius, or of the Antonii themselves. But why should they be unwilling thatthose men should become powerful, who are not only most excellent andnobly born men, but who are also united with them in the defence ofthe republic?

"In fact, you look upon the existing circumstances as you did on theformer ones. "

What can he mean?

"You used to call the camp of Pompeius the senate. "

XII. Should we rather call your camp the senate? In which you are theonly man of consular rank, you whose whole consulship is effaced fromevery monument and register; and two praetors, who are afraid thatthey will lose something by us, --a groundless fear. For we aremaintaining all the grants made by Caesar; and men of praetorian rank, Philadelphus Annius, and that innocent Gallius; and men of aedilitianrank, he on whom I have spent so much of my lungs and voice, Bestia, and that patron of good faith and cheater of his creditors, Trebellius, and that bankrupt and ruined man Quintus Caelius, and thatsupport of the friends of Antonius Cotyla Varius, whom Antonius forhis amusement caused at a banquet to be flogged with thongs by thepublic slaves. Men of septemviral rank, Lento and Nucula, and thenthat delight and darling of the Roman people, Lucius Antonius. And fortribunes, first of all two tribunes elect, Tullus Hostilius, who wasso full of his privileges as to write up his name on the gate of Rome;and who, when he found himself unable to betray his general, desertedhim. The other tribune elect is a man of the name of Viseius; I knownothing about him; but I hear that he is (as they say) a bold robber;who, however, they say was once a bathing man at Pisaurum, and avery good hand at mixing the water. Then there are others too, oftribunitian rank: in the first place, Titus Plancus; a man who, ifhe had had any affection for the senate, would never have burnt thesenate-house. Having been condemned for which wickedness, he returnedto that city by force of arms from which he was driven by the power ofthe law. But, however, this is a case common to him and to many otherswho are very unlike him. But this is quite true which men are in thehabit of saying of this Plancus in a proverbial way, that it is quiteimpossible for him to die unless his legs are broken. [50] They arebroken, and still he lives. But this, like many others, is a servicethat has been done us by Aquila. 

XIII. There is also in that camp Decius, descended, as I believe, fromthe great Decius Mus; accordingly he gained[51] the gifts of Caesar. And so after a long interval the recollection of the Decii is renewedby this illustrious man. And how can I pass over Saxa Decidius, afellow imported from the most distant nations, in order that we mightsee that man tribune of the people whom we had never beheld as acitizen? There is also one of the Sasernae; but all of them have sucha resemblance to one another, that I may make a mistake as to theirfirst names. Nor must I omit Exitius, the brother of Philadelphus thequaestor; lest, if I were to be silent about that most illustriousyoung man, I should seem to be envying Antonius. There is also agentleman of the name of Asinius, a voluntary senator, having beenelected by himself. He saw the senate-house open after the death ofCaesar, he changed his shoes, and in a moment became a conscriptfather. Sextus Albedius I do not know, but still I have not fallen inwith any one so fond of evil-speaking, as to deny that he is worthy ofa place in the senate of Antonius. 

I dare say that I have passed over some names; but still I could notrefrain from mentioning those who did occur to me. Relying then onthis senate, he looks down on the senate which supported Pompeius, inwhich ten of us were men of consular rank; and if they were all alivenow this war would never have arisen at all. Audacity would havesuccumbed to authority. But what great protection there would havebeen in the rest may be understood from this, that I, when left aloneof all that band, with your assistance crushed and broke the audacityof that triumphant robber. 

XIV. But if Fortune had not taken from us not only Servius Sulpicius, and before him, his colleague Marcus Marcellus, --what citizens! Whatmen! If the republic had been able to retain the two consuls, men mostdevoted to their country, who were driven together out of Italy; andLucius Afranius, that consummate general; and Publius Lentulus, acitizen who displayed his extraordinary virtue on other occasions, andespecially in the securing my safe return; and Bibulus, whose constantand firm attachment to the republic has at all times been deservedlypraised; and Lucius Domitius, that most excellent citizen; and AppiusClaudius, a man equally distinguished for nobleness of birth and forattachment to the state; and Publius Scipio, a most illustrious man, closely resembling his ancestors. Certainly with these men of consularrank, [52] the senate which supported Pompeius was not to be despised. 

Which, then, was more just, which was more advantageous for therepublic, that Cnaeus Pompeius, or that Antonius the brother whobought all Pompeius's property, should live? And then what men ofpraetorian rank were there with us! the chief of whom was Marcus Cato, being indeed the chief man of any nation in the world for virtue. Whyneed I speak of the other most illustrious men? you know them all. Iam more afraid lest you should think me tedious for enumerating somany, than ungrateful for passing over any one. And what men ofaedilitian rank! and of tribunitian rank! and of quaestorian rank!Why need I make a long story of it, so great was the dignity of thesenators of our party, so great too were their numbers, that those menhave need of some very valid excuse who did not join that camp. Nowlisten to the rest of the letter. 

XV. "You have the defeated Cicero for your general. "

I am the more glad to hear that word "general, " because he certainlyuses it against his will, for as for his saying "defeated, " I do notmind that, for it is my fate that I can neither be victorious nordefeated without the republic being so at the same time. 

"You are fortifying Macedonia with armies". 

Yes, indeed, and we have wrested one from your brother, who does notin the least degenerate from you. 

"You have entrusted Africa to Varus, who has been twice takenprisoner". 

Here he thinks that he is making out a case against his own brotherLucius. 

"You have sent Capius into Syria". 

Do you not see then, O Antonius, that the whole world is open to ourparty, but that you have no spot out of your own fortifications, whereyou can set your foot?

"You have allowed Casca to discharge the office of tribune". 

What then? Were we to remove a man, as if he had been Marullus, [53]or Caesetius, to whom we own it, that this and many other things likethis can never happen for the future?

"You have taken away from the Luperci the revenues which Julius Caesarassigned to them. "

Does he dare to make mention of the Luperci? Does he not shudder atthe recollection of that day on which, smelling of wine, reeking withperfumes, and naked, he dared to exhort the indignant Roman people toembrace slavery?

"You, by a resolution of the senate, have removed the colonies of theveterans which had been legally settled". 

Have we removed them, or have we rather ratified a law which waspassed in the comitia centunata? See, rather, whether it is not youwho have ruined these veterans (those at least who are ruined, ) andsettled them in a place from which they themselves now feel that theyshall never be able to make their escape. 

"You are promising to restore to the people of Marseilles what hasbeen taken from them by the laws of war. "

I am not going to discuss the laws of war. It is a discussion far moreeasy to begin than necessary. But take notice of this, O conscriptfathers, what a born enemy to the republic Antonius is, who is soviolent in his hatred of that city which he knows to have been at alltimes most firmly attached to this republic. 

XVI. "[Do you not know] that no one of the party of Pompeius, who isstill alive, can, by the Hirtian law, possess any rank?"

What, I should like to know, is the object of now making mention ofthe Hirtian law?--a law of which I believe the framer himself repentsno less than those against whom it was passed. According to myopinion, it is utterly wrong to call it a law at all; and, even if itbe a law, we ought not to think it a law of Hirtius. 

"You have furnished Brutus with money belonging to Apuleius. "

Well? Suppose the republic had furnished that excellent man with allits treasures and resources, what good man would have disapproved ofit? For without money he could not have supported an army, nor withoutan army could he have taken your brother prisoner. 

"You have praised the execution of Paetus and Menedemus, men who hadbeen presented with the freedom of the city, and who were united byties of hospitality to Caesar. "

We do not praise what we have never even heard of; we were verylikely, in such a state of confusion, and such a critical period ofthe republic, to busy our minds about two worthless Greeklings!

"You took no notice of Theopompus having been stripped, and driven outby Trebonius, and compelled to flee to Alexandria. "

The senate has indeed been very guilty! We have taken no notice ofthat great man Theopompus! Why, who on earth knows or cares where heis, or what he is doing; or, indeed, whether he is alive or dead? "Youendure the sight of Sergius Galba in your camp, armed with the samedagger with which he slew Caesar. "

I shall make you no reply at all about Galba; a most gallant andcourageous citizen. He will meet you face to face; and he beingpresent, and that dagger which you reproach him with, shall give youyour answer. 

"You have enlisted my soldiers, and many veterans, under the pretenceof intending the destruction of those men who slew Caesar; and then, when they expected no such step, you have led them on to attack theirquaestor, their general, and their former comrades!"

No doubt we deceived them; we humbugged them completely! no doubt theMartial legion, the fourth legion, and the veterans had no idea whatwas going on! They were not following the authority of the senate, or the liberty of the Roman people. --They were anxious to avenge thedeath of Caesar, which they all regarded as an act of destiny! Nodoubt you were the person whom they were anxious to see safe, andhappy, and flourishing!

XVII. Oh miserable man, not only in fact, but also in the circumstanceof not perceiving yourself how miserable you are! But listen to themost serious charge of all. 

"In fact, what have you not sanctioned, --what have you not done? whatwould be done if he were to come to life again, by?--"

By whom? For I suppose he means to bring forward some instance of avery wicked man. 

"Cnaeus Pompeius himself?"

Oh how base must we be, if indeed we have been imitating CnaeusPompeius!

"Or his son, if he could be at home?"

He soon will be at home, believe me; for in a very few days he willenter on his home, and on his father's villas. 

"Lastly, you declare that peace cannot be made unless I either allowBrutus to quit Mutina, or supply him with corn. "

It is others who say that: I say, that even if you were to do so, there never could be peace between this city and you. 

"What? is this the opinion of those veteran soldiers, to whom as yeteither course is open?"

I do not see that there is any course so open to them, as now to beginand attack that general whom they previously were so zealous andunanimous in defending. [54]

"Since you yourselves have sold yourselves for flatteries and poisonedgifts". 

Are those men depraved and corrupted, who have been persuaded topursue a most detestable enemy with most righteous war?

"But you say, you are bringing assistance to troops who are hemmed in. I have no objection to their being saved, and departing wherever youwish, if they only allow that man to be put to death who has deservedit. "

How very kind of him! The soldiers availing themselves of theliberality of Antonius have deserted their general, and have fled inalarm to his enemy, and if it had not been for them, Dolabella, inoffering the sacrifice which he did to the shade of his general, wouldnot have been beforehand with Antonius in propitiating the spirit ofhis colleague by a similar offering. 

"You write me word that there has been mention of peace made inthe senate, and that five ambassadors of consular rank have beenappointed. It is hard to believe that those men, who drove me in hastefrom the city, when I offered the fairest conditions, and when I waseven thinking of relaxing somewhat of them, should now think of actingwith moderation or humanity. And it is hardly probable, that thosemen who have pronounced Dolabella a public enemy for a most righteousaction, should bring themselves to spare us who are influenced by thesame sentiments as he". 

Does it appear a trifling matter, that he confesses himself a partnerwith Dolabella in all his atrocities? Do you not see that all thesecrimes flow from one source? He himself confesses, shrewdly andcorrectly enough, that those who have pronounced Dolabella a publicenemy for a most righteous action (for so it appears to Antonius), cannot possibly spare him who agrees with Dolabella in opinion. 

XVIII. What can you do with a man who puts on paper and records thefact, that his agreement with Dolabella is so complete, that he wouldkill Trebonius, and, if he could, Brutus and Cassius too, with everycircumstance of torture; and inflict the same punishment on us also?Certainly, a man who makes so pious and fair a treaty is a citizen tobe taken care of! He, also, complains that the conditions which heoffered, those reasonable and modest conditions, were rejected;namely, that he was to have the further Gaul, --the province themost suitable of all for renewing and carrying on the war; that thelegionaries of the Alauda should be judges in the third decury; thatis to say, that there shall be an asylum for all crimes, to theindelible disgrace of the republic; that his own acts should beratified, his, --when not one trace of his consulship has been allowedto remain! He showed his regard also for the interests of LuciusAntonius, who had been a most equitable surveyor of private and publicdomains, with Nucula and Lento for his colleagues. 

"Consider then, both of you, whether it is more becoming and moreadvantageous for your party, for you to seek to avenge the death ofTrebonius, or that of Caesar; and whether it is more reasonablefor you and me to meet in battle, in order that the cause of thePompeians, which has so frequently had its throat cut, may the moreeasily revive; or to agree together, so as not to be a laughing-stockto our enemies. "

If its throat had been cut, it never could revive. "Which, " says he, "is more becoming. " In this war he talks of what is becoming! "Andmore advantageous for your party. "--"Parties, " you senseless man, isa suitable expression for the forum, or the senate house. You havedeclared a wicked war against your country; you are attacking Mutina;you are besieging the consul elect; two consuls are carrying on waragainst you; and with them, Caesar, the propraetor; all Italy is armedagainst you; and then do you call yours "a party, " instead of a revoltfrom the republic? "To seek to avenge the death of Trebonius, or thatof Caesar. " We have avenged Trebonius sufficiently by pronouncingDolabella a public enemy. The death of Caesar is best defended byoblivion and silence. But take notice what his object is. --Whenhe thinks that the death of Caesar ought to be revenged, he isthreatening with death, not those only who perpetrated that action, but those also who were not indignant at it. 

XIX. "Men who will count the destruction of either you or me gainto them. A spectacle which as yet Fortune herself has taken care toavoid, unwilling to see two armies which belong to one body fighting, with Cicero acting as master of the show; a fellow who is so far happythat he has cajoled you both with the same compliments as those withwhich he boasted that he had deceived Caesar. "

He proceeds in his abuse of me, as if he had been very fortunate inall his former reproaches of me; but I will brand him with themost thoroughly deserved marks of infamy, and pillory him for theeverlasting recollection of posterity. I a "master of the show ofgladiators!" indeed he is not wholly wrong, for I do wish to see theworst party slain, and the best victorious. He writes that "whicheverof them are destroyed we shall count as so much gain. " Admirable gain, when, if you, O Antonius, are victorious, (may the gods avert such adisaster!) the death of those men who depart from life untortured willbe accounted happy! He says that Hirtius and Caesar "have been cajoledby me by the same compliments. " I should like to know what complimenthas been as yet paid to Hirtius by me; for still more and greaterones than have been paid him already are due to Caesar. But do you, O Antonius, dare to say that Caesar, the father, was deceived by me?You, it was you, I say, who really slew him at the Lupercal games. Why, O most ungrateful of men, have you abandoned your office ofpriest to him? But remark now the admirable wisdom and consistency ofthis great and illustrious man. 

"I am quite resolved to brook no insult either to myself or to myfriends; nor to desert that party which Pompeius hated, nor to allowthe veterans to be removed from their abodes; nor to allow individualsto be dragged out to torture, nor to violate the faith which I pledgedto Dolabella. "

I say nothing of the rest of this sentence, "the faith pledged toDolabella, " to that most holy man, this pious gentleman will by nomeans violate. What faith? Was it a pledge to murder every virtuouscitizen, to partition the city and Italy, to distribute the provincesamong, and to hand them over to be plundered by, their followers?For what else was there which could have been ratified by treatyand mutual pledges between Antonius and Dolabella, those foul andparricidal traitors?

"Nor to violate my treaty of alliance with Lepidus, the mostconscientious of men. "

You have any alliance with Lepidus or with any (I will not sayvirtuous citizen, as he is, but with any) man in his senses! Yourobject is to make Lepidus appear either an impious man, or a madman. But you are doing no good, (although it is a hard matter to speakpositively of another, ) especially with a man like Lepidus, whom Iwill never fear, but I shall hope good things of him unless I amprevented from doing so. Lepidus wished to recal you from your frenzy, not to be the assistant of your insanity. But you seek your friendsnot only among conscientious men, but among _most_ conscientious men. And you actually, so godlike is your piety, invent a new word toexpress it which has no existence in the Latin language. 

"Nor to betray Plancus, the partner of my counsels. "

Plancus, the partner of your counsels? He, whose ever memorable anddivine virtue brings a light to the republic: (unless, mayhap, youthink that it is as a reinforcement to you that he has come with thosemost gallant legions, and with a numerous Gallic force of both cavalryand infantry); and who, if before his arrival you have not by yourpunishment made atonement to the republic for your wickedness, will bechief leader in this war. For although the first succours that arriveare more useful to the republic, yet the last are the more acceptable. 

XX. However, at last he recollects himself and begins to philosophize. 

"If the immortal gods assist me, as I trust that they will, going onmy way with proper feelings, I shall live happily; but if another fateawaits me, I have already a foretaste of joy in the certainty of yourpunishment. For if the Pompeians when defeated are so insolent, youwill be sure to experience what they will be when victorious. "

You are very welcome to your foretaste of joy. For you are at war notonly with the Pompeians, but with the entire republic. Every one, godsand men, the highest rank, the middle class, the lowest dregs of thepeople, citizens and foreigners, men and women, free men and slaves, all hate you. We saw this the other day on some false news that came;but we shall soon see it from the way in which true news is received. And if you ponder these things with yourself a little, you will diewith more equanimity, and greater comfort. 

"Lastly, this is the sum of my opinion and determination; I will bearwith the insults offered me by my friends, if they themselves arewilling to forget that they have offered them; or if they are preparedto unite with me in avenging Caesar's death. "

Now that they know this resolution of Antonius, do you think thatAulus Hirtius and Caius Pansa, the consuls, can hesitate to pass overto Antonius? to besiege Brutus? to be eager to attack Mutina? Why do Isay Hirtius and Pansa? Will Caesar, that young man of singular piety, be able to restrain himself from seeking to avenge the injuries of hisfather in the blood of Decimus Brutus? Therefore, as soon as they hadread this letter, the course which they adopted was to approach nearerto the fortifications. And on this account we ought to consider Caesara still more admirable young man; and that a still greater kindness ofthe immortal gods which gave him to the republic, as he has never beenmisled by the specious use of his father's name; nor by any falseidea of piety and affection. He sees clearly that the greatest pietyconsists in the salvation of one's country. But if it were a contestbetween parties, the name of which is utterly extinct, then wouldAntonius and Ventidius be the proper persons to uphold the party ofCaesar, rather than in the first place, Caesar, a young man full ofthe greatest piety and the most affectionate recollection of hisparent? and next to him Pansa and Hirtius, who held, (if I may usesuch an expression, ) the two horns of Caesar, at the time when thatdeserved to be called a party. But what parties are these, when theone proposes to itself to uphold the authority of the senate, theliberty of the Roman people, and the safety of the republic, whilethe other fixes its eyes on the slaughter of all good men, and on thepartition of the city and of Italy. 

XXI. Let us come at last to the end. 

"I do not believe that ambassadors are coming--". 

He knows me well. 

"To a place where war exists. "

Especially with the example of Dolabella before our eyes. Ambassadors, I should think, will have privileges more respected than two consulsagainst whom he is bearing arms; or than Caesar, whose father's priesthe is; or than the consul elect, whom he is attacking; or than Mutina, which he is besieging; or than his country, which he is threateningwith fire and sword. 

"When they do come I shall see what they demand. "

Plagues and tortures seize you! Will any one come to you, unless hebe a man like Ventidius? We sent men of the very highest character toextinguish the rising conflagration; you rejected them. Shall we nowsend men when the fire has become so large and has risen to such aheight, and when you have left yourself no possible room, not only forpeace, but not even for a surrender?

I have read you this letter, O conscript fathers, not because Ithought it worth reading, but in order to let you see all hisparricidal treasons revealed by his own confessions. Would MarcusLepidus, that man so richly endowed with all the gifts of virtue andfortune, if he saw this letter, either wish for peace with this man, or even think it possible that peace should be made? "Sooner shallfire and water mingle" as some poet or other says; sooner shallanything in the world happen than either the republic becomereconciled to the Antonii, or the Antonii to the republic. Those menare monsters, prodigies, portentous pests of the republic. It wouldbe better for this city to be uplifted from its foundations andtransported, if such a thing were possible, into other regions, whereit should never hear of the actions or the name of the Antonii, thanfor it to see those men, driven out by the valour of Caesar, andhemmed in by the courage of Brutus, inside these walls. The mostdesirable thing is victory; the next best thing is to think nodisaster too great to bear in defence of the dignity and freedom ofone's country. The remaining alternative, I will not call it thethird, but the lowest of all, is to undergo the greatest disgrace froma desire of life. 

Since, then, this is the case, as to the letters and messages ofMarcus Lepidus, that most illustrious man, I agree with Servilius. AndI further give my vote, that Magnus Pompeius, the Son of Cnaeus, hasacted as might have been expected from the affection and zeal of hisfather and forefathers towards the republic, and from his own previousvirtue and industry and loyal principles in promising to the senateand people of Rome his own assistance, and that of those men whom hehad with him; and that that conduct of his is grateful and acceptableto the senate and people of Rome, and that it shall tend to his ownhonour and dignity. This may either be added to the resolution of thesenate which is before us, or it may be separated from it and drawn upby itself, so as to let Pompeius be seen to be extolled in a distinctresolution of the senate. 

 * * * * *

THE FOURTEENTH (AND LAST) ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUSANTONIUS. CALLED ALSO THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 

 * * * * *

THE ARGUMENT. 

After the last speech was delivered, Brutus gained great advantages inMacedonia over Caius Antonius, and took him prisoner. He treated himwith great lenity, so much so as to displease Cicero, who remonstratedwith him strongly on his design of setting him at liberty. He was alsounder some apprehension as to the steadiness of Plancus's loyalty tothe senate; but on his writing to that body to assure them of hisobedience, Cicero procured a vote of some extraordinary honours tohim. 

Cassius also about the same time was very successful in Syria, ofwhich he wrote Cicero a full account. Meantime reports were beingspread in the city by the partizans of Antonius, of his success beforeMutina; and even of his having gained over the consuls. Cicero too waspersonally much annoyed at a report which they spread of his havingformed the design of making himself master of the city and assumingthe title of Dictator; but when Apuleius, one of his friends, and atribune of the people, proceeded to make a speech to the people inCicero's justification, the people all cried out that he had neverdone anything which was not for the advantage of the republic. Aboutthe same time news arrived of a victory gained over Antonius atMutina. 

Pansa was now on the point of joining Hirtius with four new legions, and Antonius endeavoured to surprise him on the road before he couldeffect that junction. A severe battle ensued, in which Hirtius came toPansa's aid, and Antonius was defeated with great loss. On the receiptof the news the populace assembled about Cicero's house, and carriedhim in triumph to the Capitol. The next day Marcus Cornutus, thepraetor, summoned the senate to deliberate on the letters receivedfrom the consuls and Octavius, giving an account of the victory. Servilius declared his opinion that the citizens should relinquish the_sagum_, or robe of war; and that a supplication should be decreed inhonour of the consuls and Octavius. Cicero rose next and delivered thefollowing speech, objecting to the relinquishment of the robe of war, and blaming Servilius for not calling Antonius an enemy. 

The measures which he himself proposed were carried. 

I. IF, O conscript fathers, while I learnt from the letters which havebeen read that the army of our most wicked enemies had been defeatedand routed, I had also learnt what we all wish for above all things, and which we do suppose has resulted from that victory which hasbeen achieved, --namely, that Decimus Brutus had already quittedMutina, --then I should without any hesitation give my vote for ourreturning to our usual dress out of joy at the safety of that citizenon account of whose danger it was that we adopted the robe of war. But before any news of that event which the city looks for with thegreatest eagerness arrives, we have sufficient reason indeed for joyat this most important and most illustrious battle; but reserve, I begyou, your return to your usual dress for the time of complete victory. But the completion of this war is the safety of Decimus Brutus. 

But what is the meaning of this proposal that our dress shall bechanged just for to-day, and that to-morrow we should again come forthin the garb of war? Rather when we have once returned to that dresswhich we wish and desire to assume, let us strive to retain it forever; for this is not only discreditable, but it is displeasing alsoto the immortal gods, to leave their altars, which we have approachedin the attire of peace, for the purpose of assuming the garb of war. And I notice, O conscript fathers, that there are some who favour thisproposal: whose intention and design is, as they see that that will bea most glorious day for Decimus Brutus on which we return to our usualdress out of joy for his safety, to deprive him of this great reward, so that it may not be handed down to the recollection of posteritythat the Roman people had recourse to the garb of war on account ofthe danger of one single citizen, and then returned to then gowns ofpeace on account of his safety. Take away this reason, and you willfind no other for so absurd a proposal. But do you, O conscriptfathers, preserve your authority, adhere to your own opinions, preserve in your recollection, what you have often declared, that thewhole result of this entire war depends on the life of one most braveand excellent man. 

II. For the purpose of effecting the liberation of Decimus Brutus, thechief men of the state were sent as ambassadors, to give notice tothat enemy and parricidal traitor to retire from Mutina; for the sakeof preserving that same Decimus Brutus, Aulus Hirtius, the consul, went by lot to conduct the war, a man the weakness of whose bodilyhealth was made up for by the strength of his courage, and encouragedby the hope of victory. Caesar, too, after he, with an army levied byhis own resources and on his own authority, had delivered the republicfrom the first dangers that assailed it, in order to prevent anysubsequent wicked attempts from being originated, departed to assistin the deliverance of the same Brutus, and subdued some familyvexation which he may have felt by his attachment to his country. Whatother object had Caius Pansa in holding the levies which he did, andin collecting money, and in carrying the most severe resolutions ofthe senate against Antonius, and in exhorting us, and in inviting theRoman people to embrace the cause of liberty, except to ensure thedeliverance of Decimus Brutus? For the Roman people in crowds demandedat his hands the safety of Decimus Brutus with such unanimousoutcries, that he was compelled to prefer it not only to anyconsideration of his own personal advantage, but even to his ownnecessities. And that end we now, O conscript fathers, are entitled tohope is either at the point of being achieved, or is actually gained, but it is right for the reward of our hopes to be reserved for theissue and event of the business, lest we should appear either to haveanticipated the kindness of the gods by our over precipitation, or tohave despised the bounty of fortune through our own folly. 

But since the manner of your behaviour shows plainly enough what youthink of this matter, I will come to the letters which have arrivedfrom the consuls and the propraetor, after I have said a few wordsrelating to the letters themselves. 

III. The swords, O conscript fathers, of our legions and armies havebeen stained with, or rather, I should say, dipped deep in blood intwo battles which have taken place under the consuls, and a third, which has been fought under the command of Caesar. If it was theblood of enemies, then great is the piety of the soldiers; but it isnefarious wickedness if it was the blood of citizens. How long, then, is that man, who has surpassed all enemies in wickedness, to be sparedthe name of enemy? unless you wish to see the very swords of oursoldiers trembling in their hands while they doubt whether they arepiercing a citizen or an enemy. You vote a supplication; you do notcall Antonius an enemy. Very pleasing indeed to the immortal gods willour thanksgivings be, very pleasing too the victims, after a multitudeof our citizens has been slain! "For the victory, " says the proposerof the supplication, "over wicked and audacious men. " For that is whatthis most illustrious man calls them; expressions of blame suited tolawsuits carried on in the city, not denunciations of searing infamysuch as deserved by internecine war. I suppose they are forging wills, or trespassing on their neighbours, or cheating some young men; for itis men implicated in these and similar practices that we are in thehabit of terming wicked and audacious. One man, the foulest of allbanditti, is waging an irreconcileable war against four consuls. Heis at the same time carrying on war against the senate and people ofRome. He is (although he is himself hastening to destruction, throughthe disasters which he has met with) threatening all of us withdestruction, and devastation, and torments, and tortures. He declaresthat that inhuman and savage act of Dolabella's, which no nation ofbarbarians would have owned, was done by his advice; and what hehimself would do in this city, if this very Jupiter, who now looksdown upon us assembled in his temple, had not repelled him from thistemple and from these walls, he showed, in the miseries of thoseinhabitants of Parma, whom, virtuous and honourable men as they were, and most intimately connected with the authority of this order, andwith the dignity of the Roman people, that villain and monster, LuciusAntonius, that object of the extraordinary detestation of all men, and (if the gods hate those whom they ought) of all the gods also, murdered with every circumstance of cruelty. My mind shudders at therecollection, O conscript fathers, and shrinks from relating thecruelties which Lucius Antonius perpetrated on the children andwives of the citizens of Parma. For whatever infamy the Antonii havewillingly undergone in their own persons to their own infamy, theytriumph in the fact of having inflicted on others by violence. But itis a miserable violence which they offered to them; most unholy lust, such as the whole life of the Antonii is polluted with. 

IV. Is there then any one who is afraid to call those men enemies, whose wickedness he admits to have surpassed even the inhumanity ofthe Carthaginians? For in what city, when taken by storm, did Hannibaleven behave with such ferocity as Antonius did in Parma, which hefilched by surprise? Unless, mayhap, Antonius is not to be consideredthe enemy of this colony, and of the others towards which he isanimated with the same feelings. But if he is beyond all question theenemy of the colonies and municipal towns, then what do you considerhim with respect to this city which he is so eager for, to satiate theindigence of his band of robbers? which that skilful and experiencedsurveyor of his, Saxa, has already marked out with his rule. Recollect, I entreat you, in the name of the immortal gods, Oconscript fathers, what we have been fearing for the last two days, in consequence of infamous rumours carefully disseminated by enemieswithin the walls. Who has been able to look upon his children or uponhis wife without weeping? who has been able to bear the sight of hishome, of his house, and his household gods? Already all of us wereexpecting a most ignominious death, or meditating a miserable flight. And shall we hesitate to call the men at whose hands we fearedall these things enemies? If any one should propose a more severedesignation I will willingly agree to it; I am hardly content withthis ordinary one, and will certainly not employ a more moderate one. 

Therefore, as we are bound to vote, and as Servilius has alreadyproposed a most just supplication for those letters which have beenread to you; I will propose altogether to increase the number of thedays which it is to last, especially as it is to be decreed in honourof three generals conjointly. But first of all I will insist onstyling those men imperator by whose valour, and wisdom, and goodfortune we have been released from the most imminent danger of slaveryand death. Indeed, who is there within the last twenty years whohas had a supplication decreed to him without being himself styledimperator, though he may have performed the most insignificantexploits, or even almost none at all. Wherefore, the senator who spokebefore me ought either not to have moved for a supplication at all, orhe ought to have paid the usual and established compliment to thosemen to whom even new and extraordinary honours are justly due. 

V. Shall the senate, according to this custom which has now obtained, style a man imperator if he has slain a thousand or two of Spaniards, or Gauls, or Thracians; and now that so many legions have been routed, now that such a multitude of enemies has been slain, --aye, enemies, I say, although our enemies within the city do not fancy thisexpression, --shall we pay to our most illustrious generals the honourof a supplication, and refuse them the name of imperator? For withwhat great honour, and joy, and exultation ought the deliverers ofthis city themselves to enter into this temple, when yesterday, onaccount of the exploits which they have performed, the Roman peoplecarried me in an ovation, almost in a triumph from my house to theCapitol, and back again from the Capitol to my own house? That isindeed in my opinion a just and genuine triumph, when men who havedeserved well of the republic receive public testimony to their meritsfrom the unanimous consent of the senate. For if, at a time of generalrejoicing on the part of the Roman people, they addressed theircongratulations to one individual, that is a great proof of theiropinion of him; if they gave him thanks, that is a greater still; ifthey did both, then nothing more honourable to him can be possiblyimagined. 

Are you saying all this of yourself? some one will ask. It is indeedagainst my will that I do so; but my indignation at injustice makes meboastful, contrary to my usual habit. Is it not sufficient that thanksshould not be given to men who have well earned them, by men who areignorant of the very nature of virtue? And shall accusations and odiumbe attempted to be excited against those men who devote all theirthoughts to ensuring the safety of the republic? For you well knowthat there has been a common report for the last few days, that theday before the wine feast, [55] that is to say, on this very day, I wasintending to come forth with the fasces as dictator. One would thinkthat this story was invented against some gladiator, or robber, orCatiline, and not against a man who had prevented any such step fromever being taken in the republic. Was I, who defeated and overthrewand crushed Catiline, when he was attempting such wickedness, a likelyman myself all on a sudden to turn out Catiline? Under what auspicescould I, an augur, take those fasces? How long should I have beenlikely to keep them? to whom was I to deliver them as my successor?The idea of any one having been so wicked as to invent such a tale!or so mad as to believe it! In what could such a suspicion, or rathersuch gossip, have originated?

VI. When, as you know, during the last three or four days a report ofbad news from Mutina has been creeping abroad, the disloyal part ofthe citizens, inflated with exultation and insolence, began to collectin one place, at that senate-house which has been more fatal to theirparty than to the republic. There, while they were forming a plan tomassacre us, and were distributing the different duties among oneanother, and settling who was to seize on the Capitol, who on therostra, who on the gates of the city, they thought that allthe citizens would flock to me. And in order to bring me intounpopularity, and even into danger of my life, they spread abroad thisreport about the fasces. They themselves had some idea of bringing thefasces to my house; and then, on pretence of that having been done bymy wish, they had prepared a band of hired ruffians to make an attackon me as on a tyrant, and a massacre of all of you was intended tofollow. The fact is already notorious, O conscript fathers, but theorigin of all this wickedness will be revealed in its fitting time. 

Therefore Publius Apuleius, a tribune of the people, who ever since myconsulship has been the witness and partaker of, and my assistantin all my designs and all my dangers could not endure the grief ofwitnessing my indignation. He convened a numerous assembly, as thewhole Roman people were animated with one feeling on the subject. Andwhen in the harangue which he then made, he, as was natural from ourgreat intimacy and friendship, was going to exculpate me from allsuspicion in the matter of the fasces, the whole assembly cried outwith one voice, that I had never had any intentions with regard tothe republic which were not excellent. After this assembly was over, within two or three hours, these most welcome messengers and lettersarrived; so that the same day not only delivered me from a most unjustodium, but increased my credit by that most extraordinary act withwhich the Roman people distinguished me. 

I have made this digression, O conscript fathers, not so much for thesake of speaking of myself, (for I should be in a sorry plight if Iwere not sufficiently acquitted in your eyes without the necessity ofmaking a formal defence, ) as with the view of warning some men of toogrovelling and narrow minds, to adopt the line of conduct which Imyself have always pursued, and to think the virtue of excellentcitizens worthy of imitation, not of envy. There is a great field inthe republic, as Crassus used very wisely to say; the road to glory isopen to many. 

VII. Would that those great men were still alive, who, after myconsulship, when I myself was willing to yield to them, werethemselves desirous to see me in the post of leader. But at thepresent moment, when there is such a dearth of wise and fearless menof consular rank, how great do you not suppose must be my griefand indignation, when I see some men absolutely disaffected to therepublic, others wholly indifferent to everything, others incapable ofpersevering with any firmness in the cause which they have espoused;and regulating their opinions not always by the advantage of therepublic, but sometimes by hope, and sometimes by fear. But if anyone is anxious and inclined to struggle for the leadership--thoughstruggle there ought to be none--he acts very foolishly, if heproposes to combat virtue with vices. For as speed is only outstrippedby speed, so among brave men virtue is only surpassed by virtue. Will you, if I am full of excellent sentiments with respect to therepublic, adopt the worst possible sentiments yourself for the purposeof excelling me? Or if you see a race taking place for the acquisitionof honours, will you summon all the wicked men you can find to yourbanner? I should be sorry for you to do so; first of all, for the sakeof the republic, and secondly, for that of your own dignity. But ifthe leadership of the state were at stake, which I have never coveted, what could be more desirable for me than such conduct on your part?For it is impossible that I should be defeated by wicked sentimentsand measures, --by good ones perhaps I might be, and I willingly wouldbe. 

Some people are vexed that the Roman people should see, and takenotice of, and form their opinion on these matters. Was it possiblefor men not to form their opinion of each individual as he deserved?For as the Roman people forms a most correct judgment of the entiresenate, thinking that at no period in the history of the republic wasthis order ever more firm or more courageous; so also they all inquirediligently concerning every individual among us; and especially in thecase of those among us who deliver our sentiments at length in thisplace, they are anxious to know what those sentiments are; and in thatway they judge of each one of us, as they think that he deserves. Theyrecollect that on the nineteenth of December I was the main cause ofrecovering our freedom; that from the first of January to this hour Ihave never ceased watching over the republic; that day and night myhouse and my ears have been open to the instruction and admonition ofevery one; that it has been by my letters, and my messengers, andmy exhortations, that all men in every part of the empire have beenroused to the protection of our country; that it is owing to the opendeclaration of my opinion ever since the first of January, that noambassadors have been ever sent to Antonius; that I have always calledhim a public enemy, and this a war; so that I, who on every occasionhave been the adviser of genuine peace have been a determined enemy tothis pretence of fatal peace. 

Have not I also at all times pronounced Ventidius an enemy, whenothers wished to call him a tribune of the people? If the consuls hadchosen to divide the senate on my opinion, their arms would long sincehave been wrested from the hands of all those robbers by the positiveauthority of the senate. 

VIII. But what could not be done then, O conscript fathers, at presentnot only can be, but even must be done. I mean, those men who are inreality enemies must be branded in plain language, must be declaredenemies by our formal resolution. Formerly, when I used the words Waror Enemy, men more than once objected to record my proposition amongthe other propositions. But that cannot be done on the presentoccasion. For in consequence of the letters of Caius Pansa and AulusHirtius, the consuls, and of Caius Caesar, propraetor, we have allvoted that honours be paid to the immortal gods. The very man wholately proposed and carried a vote for a supplication, withoutintending it pronounced those men enemies; for a supplication hasnever been decreed for success in civil war. Decreed, do I say? It hasnever even been asked for in the letters of the conqueror. Sylla asconsul carried on a civil war; he led his legions into the city andexpelled whomsoever he chose; he slew those whom he had in his power:there was no mention made of any supplication. The violent war withOctavius followed. Cinna the conqueror had no supplication votedto him. Sylla as imperator revenged the victory of Cinna, still nosupplication was decreed by the senate. I ask you yourself, O PubliusServilius, did your colleague send you any letters concerning thatmost lamentable battle of Pharsalia? Did he wish you to make anymotion about a supplication? Certainly not. But he did afterwards whenhe took Alexandria; when he defeated Pharnaces; but for the battle ofPharsalia he did not even celebrate a triumph. For that battle haddestroyed those citizens whose, I will not say lives, but evenwhose victory might have been quite compatible with the safety andprosperity of the state. And the same thing had happened in theprevious civil wars. For though a supplication was decreed in myhonour when I was consul, though no arms had been had recourse to atall, still that was voted by a new and wholly unprecedented kind ofdecree, not for the slaughter of enemies, but for the preservation ofthe citizens. Wherefore, a supplication on account of the affairs ofthe republic having been successfully conducted must, O conscriptfathers, be refused by you even though your generals demand it; astigma which has never been affixed on any one except Gabinius; orelse, by the mere fact of decreeing a supplication, it is quiteinevitable that you must pronounce those men, for whose defeat you dodecree it, enemies of the state. 

IX. What then Servilius did in effect, I do in express terms, when Istyle those men imperators. By using this name, I pronounce those whohave been already defeated, and those who still remain, enemiesin calling their conquerors imperators. For what title can I moresuitably bestow on Pansa? Though he has, indeed, the title of thehighest honour in the republic. What, too, shall I call Hirtius? He, indeed, is consul; but this latter title is indicative of the kindnessof the Roman people; the other of valour and victory. What? Shall Ihesitate to call Caesar imperator, a man born for the republic by theexpress kindness of the gods? He who was the first man who turnedaside the savage and disgraceful cruelty of Antonius, not only fromour throats, but from our limbs and bowels? What numerous and whatimportant virtues, O ye immortal gods, were displayed on that singleday. For Pansa was the leader of all in engaging in battle and incombating with Antonius; O general worthy of the martial legion, legion worthy of its general! Indeed, if he had been able to restrainits irresistible impetuosity, the whole war would have been terminatedby that one battle. But as the legion, eager for liberty, had rushedwith too much precipitation against the enemy's line of battle, andas Pansa himself was fighting in the front ranks, he received twodangerous wounds, and was borne out of the battle, to preserve hislife for the republic. But I pronounce him not only imperator, buta most illustrious imperator; who, as he had pledged himself todischarge his duty to the republic either by death or by victory, hasfulfilled one half of his promise; may the immortal gods prevent thefulfilment of the other half!

X. Why need I speak of Hirtius? who, the moment he heard of what wasgoing on, with incredible promptness and courage led forth two legionsout of the camp; that noble fourth legion, which, having desertedAntonius, formerly united itself to the martial legion; and theseventh, which, consisting wholly of veterans, gave proof in thatbattle that the name of the senate and people of Rome was dear tothose soldiers who preserved the recollection of the kindness ofCaesar. With these twenty cohorts, with no cavalry, while Hirtiushimself was bearing the eagle of the fourth legion, --and we neverheard of a more noble office being assumed by any general, --hefought with the three legions of Antonius and with his cavalry, andoverthrew, and routed, and put to the sword those impious men whowere the real enemies to this temple of the all-good and all-powerfulJupiter, and to the rest of the temples of the immortal gods, and thehouses of the city, and the freedom of the Roman people, and our livesand actual existence; so that that chief and leader of robbers fledaway with a very few followers, concealed by the darkness of night, and frightened out of all his senses. 

Oh what a most blessed day was that, which, while the carcases ofthose parricidal traitors were strewed about everywhere, beheldAntonius flying with a few followers, before he reached his place ofconcealment. 

But will any one hesitate to call Caesar imperator? Most certainly hisage will not deter any one from agreeing to this proposition, since hehas gone beyond his age in virtue. And to me, indeed, the services ofCaius Caesar have always appeared the more thankworthy, in proportionas they were less to have been expected from a man of his age. Forwhen we conferred military command on him, we were in fact encouragingthe hope with which his name inspired us; and now that he hasfulfilled those hopes, he has sanctioned the authority of our decreeby his exploits. This young man of great mind, as Hirtius most trulycalls him in his letters, with a few cohorts defended the camp ofmany legions, and fought a successful battle. And in this manner therepublic has on one day been preserved in many places by the valour, and wisdom, and good fortune of three imperators of the Roman people. 

XI. I therefore propose supplications of fifty days in the jointnames of the three. The reasons I will embrace in the words of theresolution, using the most honourable language that I can devise. 

But it becomes our good faith and our piety to show plainly to ourmost gallant soldiers how mindful of their services and how gratefulfor them we are; and accordingly I give my vote that our promises, andthose pledges too which we promised to bestow on the legions when thewar was finished, be repeated in the resolution which we are going topass this day. For it is quite fair that the honour of the soldiers, especially of such soldiers as those, should be united with that oftheir commanders. And I wish, O conscript fathers, that it was lawfulfor us to dispense rewards to all the citizens; although we will givethose which we have promised with the most careful usury. But thatremains, as I well hope, to the conquerors, to whom the faith of thesenate is pledged; and, as they have adhered to it at a most criticalperiod of the republic, we are bound to take care that they never havecause to repent of their conduct. But it is easy for us to deal fairlyby those men whose very services, though mute, appear to demand ourliberality. This is a much more praiseworthy and more important duty, to pay a proper tribute of grateful recollection to the valour ofthose men who have shed their blood in the cause of their country. AndI wish more suggestions could occur to me in the way of doing honourto those men. The two ideas which principally do occur to me, I willat all events not pass over; the one of which has reference to theeverlasting glory of those bravest of men; the other may tend tomitigate the sorrow and mourning of their relations. 

XII. I therefore give my vote, O conscript fathers, that the mosthonourable monument possible be erected to the soldiers of the martiallegion, and to those soldiers also who died fighting by their side. Great and incredible are the services done by this legion to therepublic. This was the first legion to tear itself from the piraticalband of Antonius; this was the legion which encamped at Alba; this wasthe legion that went over to Caesar; and it was in imitation of theconduct of this legion that the fourth legion has earned almost equalglory for its virtue. The fourth is victorious without having lost aman; some of the martial legion fell in the very moment of victory. Ohhappy death, which, due to nature, has been paid in the cause of one'scountry! But I consider you men born for your country; you whose veryname is derived from Mars, so that the same god who begot this cityfor the advantage of the nations, appears to have begotten you forthe advantage of this city. Death in flight is infamous; in victoryglorious. In truth, Mars himself seems to select all the bravest menfrom the battle array. Those impious men whom you slew, shall even inthe shades below pay the penalty of their parricidal treason. But you, who have poured forth your latest breath in victory, have earned anabode and place among the pious. A brief life has been allotted to usby nature; but the memory of a well-spent life is imperishable. And ifthat memory were no longer than this life, who would be so senselessas to strive to attain even the highest praise and glory by the mostenormous labours and dangers?

You then have fared most admirably, being the bravest of soldierswhile you lived, and now the most holy of warriors, because it willbe impossible for your virtue to be buried, either through theforgetfulness of the men of the present age, or the silence ofposterity, since the senate and Roman people will have raised to youan imperishable monument, I may almost say with their own hands. Manyarmies at various times have been great and illustrious in the Punic, and Gallic, and Italian wars; but to none of them have honours beenpaid of the description which are now conferred on you. And I wishthat we could pay you even greater honours, since we have receivedfrom you the greatest possible services. You it was who turned asidethe furious Antonius from this city; you it was who repelled him whenendeavouring to return. There shall therefore be a vast monumenterected with the most sumptuous work, and an inscription engraved uponit, as the everlasting witness of your god-like virtue. And nevershall the most grateful language of all who either see or hear of yourmonument cease to be heard. And in this manner you, in exchange foryour mortal condition of life, have attained immortality. 

XIII. But since, O conscript fathers, the gift of glory is conferredon these most excellent and gallant citizens by the honour of amonument, let us comfort their relations, to whom this indeed isthe best consolation. The greatest comfort for their parents is thereflection that they have produced sons who have been such bulwarks ofthe republic; for their children, that they will have such examples ofvirtue in their family; for their wives, that the husbands whom theyhave lost are men whom it is a credit to praise, and to have a rightto mourn for; and for their brothers, that they may trust that, asthey resemble them in their persons, so they do also in their virtues. 

Would that we were able by the expression of our sentiments and by ourvotes to wipe away the tears of all these persons; or that any suchoration as this could be publicly addressed to them, to cause them tolay aside their grief and mourning, and to rejoice rather, that, whilemany various kinds of death impend over men, the most honourable kindof all has fallen to the lot of their friends; and that they are notunburied, nor deserted; though even that fate, when incurred for one'scountry, is not accounted miserable; nor burnt with equable obsequiesin scattered graves, but entombed in honourable sepulchres, andhonoured with public offerings; and with a building which will be analtar of their valour to ensure the recollection of eternal ages. 

Wherefore it will be the greatest possible comfort to their relations, that by the same monument are clearly displayed the valour of theirkinsmen, and also their piety, and the good faith of the senate, andthe memory of this most inhuman war, in which, if the valour of thesoldiers had been less conspicuous, the very name of the Roman peoplewould have perished by the parricidal treason of Marcus Antonius. And I think also, O conscript fathers, that those rewards which wepromised to bestow on the soldiers when we had recovered the republic, we should give with abundant usury to those who are alive andvictorious when the time comes; and that in the case of the men towhom those rewards were promised, but who have died in the defence oftheir country, I think those same rewards should be given to theirparents or children, or wives or brothers. 

XIV. But that I may reduce my sentiments into a formal motion, I givemy vote that:

"As Caius Pansa, consul, imperator, set the example of fighting withthe enemy in a battle in which the martial legion defended the freedomof the Roman people with admirable and incredible valour, and thelegions of the recruits behaved equally well; and as Caius Pansa, consul, imperator, while engaged in the middle of the ranks of theenemy received wounds; and as Aulus Hirtius, consul, imperator, themoment that he heard of the battle, and knew what was going on, with amost gallant and loyal soul, led his army out of his camp and attackedMarcus Antonius and his army, and put his troops to the sword, with solittle injury to his own army that he did not lose one single man; andas Caius Caesar, propraetor, imperator, with great prudence and energydefended the camp successfully, and routed and put to the sword theforces of the enemy which had come near the camp:

"On these accounts the senate thinks and declares that the Romanpeople has been released from the most disgraceful and cruel slaveryby the valour, and military skill, and prudence, and firmness, andperseverance, and greatness of mind and good fortune of these theirgenerals. And decrees that, as they have preserved the republic, thecity, the temples of the immortal gods, the property and fortunes andfamilies of all the citizens, by their own exertions in battle, and atthe risk of their own lives; on account of these virtuous and gallantand successful achievements, Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius, theconsuls, imperators, one or both of them, or, in their absence, MarcusCornutus, the city praetor, shall appoint a supplication at all thealtars for fifty days. And as the valour of the legions has shownitself worthy of their most illustrious generals, the senate will withgreat eagerness, now that the republic is recovered, bestow on ourlegions and armies all the rewards which it formerly promised them. And as the martial legion was the first to engage with the enemy, andfought in such a manner against superior numbers as to slay many andtake some prisoners; and as they shed their blood for their countrywithout any shrinking; and as the soldiers of the other legionsencountered death with similar valour in defence of the safety andfreedom of the Roman people;--the senate does decree that Caius Pansaand Aulus Hirtius, the consuls, imperators, one or both of them if itseems good to them, shall see to the issuing of a contract for, and tothe erecting, the most honourable possible monument to those men whoshed their blood for the lives and liberties and fortunes of the Romanpeople, and for the city and temples of the immortal gods; that forthat purpose they shall order the city quaestors to furnish andpay money, in order that it may be a witness for the everlastingrecollection of posterity of the wickedness of our most cruel enemies, and the god-like valour of our soldiers. And that the rewards whichthe senate previously appointed for the soldiers, be paid to theparents or children, or wives or brothers of those men who in thiswar have fallen in defence of their country; and that all honoursbe bestowed on them which should have been bestowed on the soldiersthemselves if those men had lived who gained the victory by theirdeath. "

THE TWO BOOKS WHICH REMAIN OF THE TREATISE BY M. T. CICERO ONRHETORICAL INVENTION. 

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BOOK I. 

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These essays on rhetoric were composed by Cicero when he was about oneand twenty years of age, and he mentions them afterwards in his moreelaborate treatise _De Oratore_, (Lib. I. C. 2, ) as unworthy of hismore mature age, and more extended experiences. Quintilian also (III. C. 63, ) mentions them as works which Cicero condemned by subsequentwritings. This treatise originally consisted of four books, of whichonly two have come down to us. 

I. I HAVE often and deeply resolved this question in my mind, whetherfluency of language has been beneficial or injurious to men and tocities, with reference to the cultivation of the highest order ofeloquence. For when I consider the disasters of our own republic, andwhen I call to mind also the ancient calamities of the most importantstates, I see that it is by no means the most insignificant portionof their distresses which has originated from the conduct of the mosteloquent men. But, at the same time, when I set myself to trace back, by the aid of written memorials and documents, affairs which, byreason of their antiquity, are removed back out of the reach of anypersonal recollection, I perceive also that many cities have beenestablished, many wars extinguished, many most enduring alliances andmost holy friendships have been cemented by deliberate wisdom muchassisted and facilitated by eloquence. And as I have been, as I say, considering all this for some time, reason itself especially inducesme to think that wisdom without eloquence is but of little advantageto states, but that eloquence without wisdom is often mostmischievous, and is never advantageous to them. 

If then any one, neglecting all the most virtuous and honourableconsiderations of wisdom and duty, devotes his whole attention to thepractice of speaking, that man is training himself to become uselessto himself, and a citizen mischievous to his country; but a man whoarms himself with eloquence in such a manner as not to oppose theadvantage of his country, but to be able to contend in behalf of them, he appears to me to be one who both as a man and a citizen will be ofthe greatest service to his own and the general interests, and mostdevoted to his country. 

And if we are inclined to consider the origin of this thing which iscalled eloquence, whether it be a study, or an art, or some peculiarsort of training or some faculty given us by nature, we shall findthat it has arisen from most honourable causes, and that it proceedson the most excellent principles. 

II. For there was a time when men wandered at random over the fields, after the fashion of beasts, and supported life on the food of beasts;nor did they do anything by means of the reasoning powers of the mind;but almost everything by bodily strength. No attention was as yet paidto any considerations of the religious reverence due to the gods, orof the duties which are owed to mankind: no one had ever seen anylegitimate marriages, no one had beheld any children whose parentagewas indubitable; nor had any one any idea what great advantagethere might be in a system of equal law. And so, owing to error andignorance, cupidity, that blind and rash sovereign of the mind, abusedits bodily strength, that most pernicious of servants, for the purposeof gratifying itself. At this time then a man, [56] a great and a wiseman truly was he, perceived what materials there were, and what greatfitness there was in the minds of men for the most important affairs, if any one could only draw it out, and improve it by education. He, laying down a regular system, collected men, who were previouslydispersed over the fields and hidden in habitations in the woods intoone place, and united them, and leading them on to every useful andhonourable pursuit, though, at first, from not being used to it theyraised an outcry against it; he gradually, as they became more eagerto listen to him on account of his wisdom and eloquence, made themgentle and civilized from having been savage and brutal. And itcertainly seems to me that no wisdom which was silent and destitute ofskill in speaking could have had such power as to turn men on a suddenfrom their previous customs, and to lead them to the adoption ofa different system of life. And, moreover, after cities had beenestablished how could men possibly have been induced to learn tocultivate integrity, and to maintain justice, and to be accustomedwillingly to obey others, and to think it right not only to encountertoil for the sake of the general advantage, but even to run the riskof losing their lives, if men had not been able to persuade them byeloquence of the truth of those principles which they had discoveredby philosophy? Undoubtedly no one, if it had not been that he wasinfluenced by dignified and sweet eloquence, would ever have chosento condescend to appeal to law without violence, when he was the mostpowerful party of the two as far as strength went; so as to allowhimself now to be put on a level with those men among whom he mighthave been preeminent, and of his own free will to abandon a custommost pleasant to him, and one which by reason of its antiquity hadalmost the force of nature. 

And this is how eloquence appears to have originated at first, and tohave advanced to greater perfection; and also, afterwards, to havebecome concerned in the most important transactions of peace and war, to the greatest advantage of mankind? But after that a certain sort ofcomplaisance, a false copyist of virtue, without any considerationfor real duty, arrived at some fluency of language, then wickedness, relying on ability, began to overturn cities, and to undermine theprinciples of human life. 

III. And, since we have mentioned the origin, of the good done byeloquence, let us explain also the beginning of this evil. 

It appears exceedingly probable to me that was a time when men whowere destitute of eloquence and wisdom, were not accustomed to meddlewith affairs of state, and when also great and eloquent men were notused to concern themselves about private causes; but, while the mostimportant transactions were managed by the most eminent and able men, I think that there were others also, and those not very incompetent, who attended to the trifling disputes of private individuals; and asin these disputes it often happened that men had recourse to lies, andtried by such means to oppose the truth, constant practice in speakingencouraged audacity, so that it became unavoidable that those othermore eminent men should, on account of the injuries sustained by thecitizens, resist the audacious and come to the assistance of their ownindividual friends. 

Therefore, as that man had often appeared equal in speaking, andsometimes even superior, who having neglected the study of wisdom, hadlaboured to acquire nothing except eloquence, it happened that in thejudgment of the multitude he appeared a man worthy to conduct even theaffairs of the state. And hence it arose, and it is no wonder thatit did, when rash and audacious men had seized on the helm of therepublic, that great and terrible disasters occurred. Owing to whichcircumstances, eloquence fell under so much odium and unpopularitythat the ablest men, (like men who seek a harbour to escape from someviolent tempest) devoted themselves to any quiet pursuit, as a refugefrom a life of sedition and tumult. So that other virtuous andhonourable pursuits appear to me to have become popular subsequently, from having been cultivated in tranquillity by excellent men; butthat this pursuit having been abandoned by most of them, grew out offashion and obsolete at the very time when it should have been moreeagerly retained and more anxiously encouraged and strengthened. 

For the more scandalously the temerity and audacity of foolish andworthless men was violating a most honourable and virtuous system, to the excessive injury of the republic, the more studiously didit become others to resist them, and to consult the welfare of therepublic. 

IV. And this principle which I have just laid down did not escape thenotice of Cato, nor of Laelus, nor of their pupil, as I may fairlycall him, Africanus, nor of the Gracchi the grandson of Africanus; menin whom there was consummate virtue and authority increased by theirconsummate virtue and eloquence, which might serve as an ornament tothese qualities, and as a protection to the republic. Wherefore, inmy opinion at least, men ought not the less to devote themselves toeloquence, although some men both in private and public affairs misuseit in a perverse manner; but I think rather that they should applythemselves to it with the more eagerness, in order to prevent wickedmen from getting the greatest power to the exceeding injury of thegood, and the common calamity of all men; especially as this is theonly thing which is of the greatest influence on all affairs bothpublic and private; and as it is by this same quality that life isrendered safe, and honourable, and illustrious, and pleasant. For itis from this source that the most numerous advantages accrue to therepublic, if only it be accompanied by wisdom, that governor of allhuman affairs. From this source it is that praise and honour anddignity flow towards all those who have acquired it; from this sourceit is that the most certain and the safest defence is provided fortheir friends. And, indeed, it appears to me, that it is on thisparticular that men, who in many points are weaker and lower than thebeasts, are especially superior to them, namely, in being able tospeak. 

Wherefore, that man appears to me to have acquired an excellentendowment, who is superior to other men in that very thing in whichmen are superior to beasts. And if this art is acquired not by natureonly, not by mere practice, but also by a sort of regular system ofeducation, it appears to me not foreign to our purpose to considerwhat those men say who have left us some precepts on the subject ofthe attainment of it. 

But, before we begin to speak of oratorical precepts, I think we mustsay something of the nature of the art itself; of its duty, ofits end, of its materials, and of its divisions. For when we haveascertained those points, then each man's mind will, with the moreease and readiness, be able to comprehend the system itself, and thepath which leads to excellence in it. 

V. There is a certain political science which is made up of many andimportant particulars. A very great and extensive portion of it isartificial eloquence, which men call rhetoric. For we do not agreewith those men who think that the knowledge of political science isin no need of and has no connexion with eloquence; and we most widelydisagree with those, on the other hand, who think that all politicalability Is comprehended under the skill and power of a rhetorician. Onwhich account we will place this oratorical ability in such a class asto assert that it is a part of political science. But the duty of thisfaculty appears to be to speak in a manner suitable to persuading men;the end of it is to persuade by language. And there is differencebetween the duty of this faculty and its end; that with respect to theduty we consider what ought to be done; with respect to the end weconsider what is suitable to the duty. Just as we say, that it is theduty of a physician to prescribe for a patient in a way calculated tocure him; and that his end is to cure him by his prescriptions. Andso we shall understand what we are to call the duty of an orator, andalso what we are to call his end; since we shall call that his dutywhich he ought to do, and we shall term that his end for the sake ofwhich he is bound to do his duty. 

We shall call that the material of the art, on which the whole art, and all that ability which is derived from art, turns. Just as if wewere to call diseases and wounds the material of medicine, becauseit is about them that all medical science is concerned. And in likemanner, we call those subjects with which oratorical science andability is conversant the materials of the art of rhetoric. And thesesubjects some have considered more numerous, and others less so. ForGorgias the Leontine, who is almost the oldest of all rhetoricians, considered that an orator was able to speak in the most excellentmanner of all men on every subject. And when he says this he seems tobe supplying an infinite and boundless stock of materials to this art. But Aristotle, who of all men has supplied the greatest number of aidsand ornaments to this art, thought that the duty of the rhetoricianwas conversant with three kinds of subjects; with the demonstrative, and the deliberative, and the judicial. 

The demonstrative is that which concerns itself with the praise orblame of some particular individual; the deliberative is that which, having its place in discussion and in political debate, comprises adeliberate statement of one's opinion; the judicial is that which, having its place in judicial proceedings, comprehends the topics ofaccusation and defence; or of demand and refusal. And, as our ownopinion at least inclines, the art and ability of the orator must beunderstood to be conversant with these tripartite materials. VI ForHermagoras, indeed, appears neither to attend to what he is saying, nor to understand what he is promising, for he divides the materialsof an orator into the cause, and the examination. The cause he definesto be a thing which has in itself a controversy of language unitedwith the interposition of certain characters. And that part, we toosay, is assigned to the orator, for we give him those three partswhich we have already mentioned, --the judicial, the deliberative, andthe demonstrative. But the examination he defines to be thatthing which has in itself a controversy of language, without theinterposition of any particular characters, in this way--"Whetherthere is anything good besides honesty?"--"Whether the senses may betrusted?"--"What is the shape of the world?"--"What is the size ofthe sun?" But I imagine that all men can easily see that all suchquestions are far removed from the business of an orator, for itappears the excess of insanity to attribute those subjects, inwhich we know that the most sublime genius of philosophers has beenexhausted with infinite labour, as if they were inconsiderablematters, to a rhetorician or an orator. 

But if Hermagoras himself had had any great acquaintance with thesesubjects, acquired with long study and training, then it would besupposed that he, from relying on his own knowledge, had laid downsome false principles respecting the duty of an orator, and hadexplained not what his art could effect, but what he himself could do. But as it is, the character of the man is such, that any one wouldbe much more inclined to deny him any knowledge of rhetoric, than togrant him any acquaintance with philosophy. Nor do I say this becausethe book on the art which he published appears to me to have beenwritten with any particular incorrectness, (for, indeed, he appears tome to have shown very tolerable ingenuity and diligence in arrangingtopics which he had collected from ancient writings on the subject, and also to have advanced some new theories himself, ) but it is theleast part of the business of an orator to speak concerning his art, which is what he has done: his business is rather to speak from hisart, which is what we all see that this Hermagoras was very littleable to do. And so that, indeed, appears to us to be the propermaterials of rhetoric, which we have said appeared to be such toAristotle. VII. And these are the divisions of it, as numerous writershave laid them down: Invention; Arrangement; Elocution; Memory;Delivery. Invention, is the conceiving of topics either true orprobable, which may make one's cause appear probable; Arrangement, isthe distribution of the topics which have been thus conceived withregular order; Elocution, is the adaptation of suitable words andsentences to the topics so conceived; Memory, is the lasting sense inthe mind of the matters and words corresponding to the reception ofthese topics. Delivery, is a regulating of the voice and body in amanner suitable to the dignity of the subjects spoken of and of thelanguage employed. 

Now, that these matters have been briefly defined, we may postpone toanother time those considerations by which we may be able to elucidatethe character and the duty and the object of this art; for they wouldrequire a very long argument, and they have no very intimate connexionwith the definition of the art and the delivery of precepts relatingto it. But we consider that the man who writes a treatise on the artof rhetoric ought to write about two other subjects also; namely, about the materials of the art, and about its divisions. And it seems, indeed, that we ought to treat of the materials and divisions of thisart at the same time. Wherefore, let us first consider what sort ofquality invention ought to be, which is the most important of all thedivisions, and which applies to every description of cause in which anorator can be engaged. 

VIII. Every subject which contains in itself any controversy existingeither in language or in disputation, contains a question eitherabout a fact, or about a name, or about a class, or about an action. Therefore, that investigation out of which a cause arises we call astating of a case. A stating of a case is the first conflict of causesarising from a repulse of an accusation; in this way. "You did so andso;"--"I did not do so;"--or, "it was lawful for me to do so. " Whenthere is a dispute as to the fact, since the cause is confirmed byconjectures, it is called a conjectural statement. But when it is adispute as to a name, because the force of a name is to be defined bywords, it is then styled a definitive statement. But when the thingwhich is sought to be ascertained is what is the character of thematter under consideration, because it is a dispute about violence, and about the character of the affair, it is called a generalstatement. But when the cause depends on this circumstance, eitherthat that man does not seem to plead who ought to plead, or that hedoes not plead with that man with whom he ought to plead, or thathe does not plead before the proper people, at the proper time, in accordance with the proper law, urging the proper charge, anddemanding the infliction of the proper penalty, then it is called astatement by way of demurrer; because the arguing of the case appearsto stand in need of a demurrer and also of some alteration. Andsome one or other of these sorts of statement must of necessity beincidental to every cause. For if there be any one to which it is notincidental, in that there can be no dispute at all; on which accountit has no right even to be considered a cause at all. 

And a dispute as to fact may be distributed over every sort of time. For as to what has been done, an inquiry can be instituted in thisway--"whether Ulysses slew Ajax;" and as to what is being done, inthis way--"whether the people of Tregellae are well affected towardsthe Roman people;" and as to what is going to happen, in this way--"ifwe leave Carthage uninjured, whether any inconvenience will accrue tothe republic. "

It is a dispute about a name, when parties are agreed as to the fact, and when the question is by what name that which has been done is tobe designated. In which class of dispute it is inevitable on thataccount that there should be a dispute as to the name; not because theparties are not agreed about the fact, not because the fact is notnotorious, but because that which has been done appears in a differentlight to different people, and on that account one calls it by onename and another by another. Wherefore, in disputes of this kindthe matter must be defined by words, and described briefly; as, forinstance, if any one has stolen any sacred vessel from a privateplace, whether he is to be considered a sacrilegious person, or asimple thief. For when that is inquired into, it is necessary todefine both points--what is a thief, and what is a sacrilegiousperson, --and to show by one's own description that the matter whichis under discussion ought to be called by a different name from thatwhich the opposite party apply to it. IX. The dispute about kindis, when it is agreed both what has been done, and when there isno question as to the name by which it ought to be designated; andnevertheless there is a question of what importance the matter is, andof what sort it is, and altogether of what character it is; in thisway, --whether it be just or unjust; whether it be useful or useless;and as to all other circumstances with reference to which there is anyquestion what is the character of that which has been done, withoutthere being any dispute as to its name. Humagoras assignedfour divisions to this sort of dispute: the deliberative, thedemonstrative, the judicial, and the one relating to facts. And, as itseems to us, this was no ordinary blunder of his, and one which it isincumbent on us to reprove; though we may do so briefly, lest, if wewere to pass it over in silence, we might be thought to have had nogood reason for abandoning his guidance; or if we were to dwell toolong on this point, we might appear to have interposed a delay and anobstacle to the other precepts which we wish to lay down. 

If deliberation and demonstration are kinds of causes, then thedivisions of any one kind cannot rightly be considered causes; for thesame matter may appear to be a class to one person, and a division toanother; but it cannot appear both a class and a division to the sameperson. But deliberation and demonstration are kinds of argument; foreither there is no kind of argument at all, or there is the judicialkind alone, or there are all three kinds, the judicial and thedemonstrative and the deliberative. Now, to say there is no kind ofargument at the same time that he says that there are many arguments, and is giving precepts for them, is foolishness. How, too, is itpossible that there should be one kind only, namely the judicial, whendeliberation and demonstration in the first place do not resemble oneanother, and are exceedingly different from the judicial kind, andhave each their separate object to which they ought to be referred. Itfollows, then, that there are three kinds of arguments. Deliberationand demonstration cannot properly be considered divisions of any kindof argument. He was wrong, therefore, when he said that they weredivisions of a general statement of the case. 

X. But if they cannot properly be considered divisions of a kind ofargument, much less can they properly be considered divisions of adivision of an argument. But all statement of the case is a divisionof an argument. For the argument is not adapted to the statement ofthe case, but the statement of the case is adapted to the argument. But demonstration and deliberation cannot be properly considereddivisions of a kind of argument, because they are separate kindsof arguments themselves. Much less can they properly be considereddivisions of that division, as he calls them. In the next place, if the statement of the case, both itself as a whole; and also anyportion of that statement, is a repelling of an accusation, then thatwhich is not a repelling of an accusation is neither a statement of acase, nor a portion of a statement of a case; but if that which is nota repelling of an attack is not a statement of a case, nor a portionof a statement of a case, then deliberation and demonstration areneither a statement of a case, nor a portion of a statement of acase. If, therefore, a statement of a case, whether it be the wholestatement or some portion of it, be a repelling of an accusation, thendeliberation and demonstration are neither a statement of a case, norany portion of such statement. But he himself asserts that it isa repelling of an accusation. He must therefore assert also thatdemonstration and deliberation are neither a statement of a case, nora portion of such a statement. And he will be pressed by the sameargument whether he calls the statement of a case the originalassertion of his cause by the accuser, or the first speech in answerto such accusation by the advocate of the defence. For all the samedifficulties will attend him in either case. 

In the next place a conjectural argument cannot, as to the sameportion of it, be at the same time both a conjectural one and adefinitive one. Again, a definitive argument cannot, as to the sameportion of it, be at the same time both a definitive argument and onein the form and character of a demurrer. And altogether, no statementof a case, and no portion of such a statement, can at one and the sametime both have its own proper force and also contain the force ofanother kind of argument. Because each kind of argument is consideredsimply by its own merits, and according to its own nature; and if anyother kind be united with it, then it is the number of statements ofa case that is doubled, and not the power of the statement that isincreased. 

But a deliberative argument, both as to the same portion of it andalso at the same time, very frequently has a statement of its caseboth conjectural, and general, and definitive, and in the nature of ademurrer; and at times it contains only one statement, and at timesit contains many such. Therefore it is not itself a statement of thecase, nor a division of such statement: and the same thing must bethe case with respect to demonstration. These, then, as I have saidbefore, must be considered kinds of argument, and not divisions of anystatement of the subject. 

XI. This statement of the case then, which we call the general one, appears to us to have two divisions, --one judicial and one relating tomatters of fact. The judicial one is that in which the nature of rightand wrong, or the principles of reward and punishment, are inquiredinto. The one relating to matters of fact is that in which the thingtaken into consideration is what is the law according to civilprecedent, and according to equity; and that is the department inwhich lawyers are considered by us to be especially concerned. 

And the judicial kind is itself also distributed under twodivisions, --one absolute, and one which takes in something besides asan addition, and which may be called assumptive. The absolute divisionis that which of itself contains in itself an inquiry into right andwrong. The assumptive one is that which of itself supplies no firmground for objection, but which takes to itself some topics fordefence derived from extraneous circumstances. And its divisions arefour, --concession, removal of the accusation from oneself, a retortingof the accusation, and comparison. Concession when the person on histrial does not defend the deed that has been done, but entreats to bepardoned for it: and this again is divided into two parts, --purgationand deprecation. Purgation is when the fact is admitted, but when theguilt of the fact is sought to be done away. And this may be on threegrounds, --of ignorance, of accident, or of necessity. Deprecation iswhen the person on his trial confesses that he has done wrong, andthat he has done wrong on purpose, and nevertheless entreats to bepardoned. But this kind of address can be used but very rarely. Removal of the accusation from oneself is when the person on his trialendeavours by force of argument and by influence to remove the chargewhich is brought against him from himself to another, so that it maynot fix him himself with any guilt at all. And that can be done intwo ways, --if either the cause of the deed, or the deed itself, isattributed to another. The cause is attributed to another when it issaid that the deed was done in consequence of the power and influenceof another; but the deed itself is attributed to another when it issaid that another either might have done it, or ought to have done it. The retorting of an accusation takes place when what is done is saidto have been lawfully done because another had previously provokedthe doer wrongfully. Comparison is, when it is argued that someother action has been a right or an advantageous one, and then it iscontended that this deed which is now impeached was committed in orderto facilitate the accomplishment of that useful action. 

In the fourth kind of statement of a case, which we call the one whichassumes the character of a demurrer, that sort of statement contains adispute, in which an inquiry is opened who ought to be the accuser orpleader, or against whom, or in what manner, or before whom, or underwhat law, or at what time the accusation ought to be brought forward;or when something is urged generally tending to alter the nature of, or to invalidate the whole accusation. Of this kind of statement ofa case Hermagoras is considered the inventor: not that many of theancient orators have not frequently employed it, but because formerwriters on the subject have not taken any notice of it, and have notentered it among the number of statements of cases. But since it hasbeen thus invented by Hermagoras, many people have found fault withit, whom we considered not so much to be deceived by ignorance (forindeed the matter is plain enough) as to be hindered from admittingthe truth by some envy or fondness for detraction. 

XII. We have now then mentioned the different kinds of statements ofcases, and their several divisions. But we think that we shall beable more conveniently to give instances of each kind, when we arefurnishing a store of arguments for each kind. For so the system ofarguing will be more clear, when it can be at once applied both to thegeneral classification and to the particular instance. 

When the statement of the case is once ascertained, then it is properat once to consider whether the argument be a simple or a complex one, and if it be a complex one, whether it is made up of many subjectsof inquiry, or of some comparison. That is a simple statement whichcontains in itself one plain question, in this way--"Shall we declarewar against the Corinthians, or not?" That is a complex statementconsisting of several questions in which many inquiries are made, inthis way. --"Whether Carthage shall be destroyed, or whether it shallbe restored to the Carthaginians, or whether a colony shall be ledthither. " Comparison is a statement in which inquiry is raised in theway of contest, which course is more preferable, or which is the mostpreferable course of all, in this way. --"Whether we had better send anarmy into Macedonia against Philip, to serve as an assistance to ourallies, or whether we had better retain it in Italy, in order that wemay have as numerous forces as possible to oppose to Hannibal. " Inthe next place, we must consider whether the dispute turns on generalreasoning, or on written documents, for a controversy with respectto written documents, is one which arises out of the nature of thewriting. 

XIII And of that there are five kinds which have been separated fromstatements of cases. For when the language of the writing appears tobe at variance with the intention of the writer, then two laws or moreseem to differ from one another, and then, too, that which has beenwritten appears to signify two things or more. Then also, from thatwhich is written, something else appears to be discovered also, which is not written, and also the effect of the expressions used isinquired into, as if it were in the definitive statement of thecase, in which it has been placed. Wherefore, the first kind is thatconcerning the written document and the intention of it; the secondarises from the laws which are contrary to one another, the third isambiguous, the fourth is argumentative, the fifth we call definitive. 

But reason applies when the whole of the inquiry does not turn on thewriting, but on some arguing concerning the writing. But, then, whenthe kind of argument has been duly considered, and when the statementof the case has been fully understood; when you have become awarewhether it is simple or complex, and when you have ascertainedwhether the question turns on the letter of the writing or on generalreasoning; then it is necessary to see what is the question, whatis the reasoning, what is the system of examining into the excusesalleged, what means there are of establishing one's own allegations;and all these topics must be derived from the original statement ofthe case. What I call "the question" is the dispute which arises fromthe conflict of the two statements in this way. "You have not donethis lawfully;" "I have done it lawfully. " And this is the conflict ofarguments, and on this the statement of the case hinges. It arises, therefore, from that kind of dispute which we call "the question, " inthis way:--"Whether he did so and so lawfully. " The reasoning is thatwhich embraces the whole cause; and if that be taken away, then thereis no dispute remaining behind in the cause. In this way, in orderthat for the sake of explaining myself more clearly, I may contentmyself with an easy and often quoted instance. If Orestes be accusedof matricide, unless he says this, "I did it rightfully, for she hadmurdered my father, " he has no defence at all. And if his defence betaken away, then all dispute is taken away also. The principle of hisargument then is that she murdered Agamemnon. The examination ofthis defence is then a dispute which arises out of the attempts toinvalidate or to establish this argument. For the argument itself maybe considered sufficiently explained, since we dwelt upon it a littlewhile ago. "For she, " says he, "had murdered my father. " "But, " saysthe adversary, "for all that it was not right for your mother to beput to death by you who were her son; for her act might have beenpunished without your being guilty of wickedness. "

XIV. From this mode of bringing forward evidence, arises that lastkind of dispute which we call the judication, or examination of theexcuses alleged. And that is of this kind: whether it was right thathis mother should be put to death by Orestes, because she had put todeath Orestes's father?

Now proof by testimony is the firmest sort of reasoning that can beused by an advocate in defence, and it is also the best adapted forthe examination of any excuse which may be alleged. For instance, ifOrestes were inclined to say that the disposition of his mother hadbeen such towards his father, towards himself and his sisters, towardsthe kingdom, and towards the reputation of his race and family, thather children were of all people in the world the most bound toinflict punishment upon her. And in all other statements or cases, examinations of excuses alleged are found to be carried on in thismanner. But in a conjectural statement of a case, because there is noexpress evidence, for the fact is not admitted at all, the examinationof the defence put forward cannot arise from the bringing forward ofevidence. Wherefore, it is inevitable that in this case the questionand the judication must be the same thing. As "it was done, " "it wasnot done. " The question is whether it was done. 

But it must invariably happen that there will be the same number ofquestions, and arguments, and examinations, and evidences employedin a cause, as there are statements of the case or divisions of suchstatements. When all these things are found in a cause, then at lengtheach separate division of the whole cause must be considered. For itdoes not seem that those points are necessarily to be first noticed, which have been the first stated; because you must often deduce thosearguments which are stated first, at least if you wish them to beexceedingly coherent with one another and to be consistent with thecause, from those arguments which are to be stated subsequently. Wherefore, when the examination of the excuses alleged, and all thosearguments which require to be found out for the purpose of suchexamination have been diligently found out by the rules of art, andhandled with due care and deliberation, then at length we may proceedto arrange the remaining portions of our speech. And these portionsappear to us to be in all six; the exordium, the relation of the fact, the division of the different circumstances and topics, the bringingforward of evidence, the finding fault with the action which has beendone, and the peroration. 

At present, since the exordium ought to be the main thing of all, we too will first of all give some precepts to lead to a system ofopening a case properly. 

XV. An exordium is an address bringing the mind of the hearer into asuitable state to receive the rest of the speech, and that will beeffected if it has rendered him well disposed towards the speaker, attentive, and willing to receive information. Wherefore, a man whois desirous to open a cause well, must of necessity be beforehandthoroughly acquainted with the nature and kind of cause which he hasto conduct. Now the kinds of causes are five; one honourable, oneastonishing, one low, one doubtful, one obscure. The kind of causewhich is called honourable, is such an one as the disposition of thehearer favours at once, without waiting to hear our speech. The kindthat is astonishing, is that from which the mind of those who areabout to hear us has been alienated. The kind which is low, is onewhich is disregarded by the hearer, or which does not seem likely tobe carefully attended to. The kind which is doubtful, is that in whicheither the examination into the excuses alleged is doubtful, or thecause itself, being partly honourable and partly discreditable; so asto produce partly good-will and partly disinclination. The kind whichis obscure, is that in which either the hearers are slow, or in whichthe cause itself is entangled in a multitude of circumstances hardto be thoroughly acquainted with. Wherefore, since there are somany kinds of causes, it is necessary to open one's case on a verydifferent system in each separate kind. Therefore, the exordium isdivided into two portions, first of all a beginning, and secondlylanguage calculated to enable the orator to work his way into the goodgraces of his hearers. The beginning is an address, in plain words, immediately rendering the hearer well disposed towards one, orinclined to receive information, or attentive. The language calculatedto enable the orator to work his way into the good graces of hishearers, is an address which employs a certain dissimulation, andwhich by a circuitous route as it were obscurely creeps into theaffections of the hearer. 

In the kind of cause which we have called astonishing, if the hearersbe not positively hostile, it will be allowable by the beginning ofthe speech to endeavour to secure their good-will. But if they beexcessively alienated from one, then it will be necessary to haverecourse to endeavours to insinuate oneself into their good graces. For if peace and good-will be openly sought for from those who areenemies to one, they not only are not obtained, but the hatred whichthey bear one is even inflamed and increased. But in the kind of causewhich I have called low, for the sake of removing his contempt it willbe indispensable to render the hearer attentive. The kind of causewhich has been styled doubtful, if it embraces an examination into theexcuses alleged, which is also doubtful, must derive its exordiumfrom that very examination; but if it have some things in it of acreditable nature, and some of a discreditable character, then it willbe expedient to try and secure the good-will of the hearer, so thatthe cause may change its appearance, and seem to be an honourable one. But when the kind of cause is the honourable kind, then the exordiummay either be passed over altogether, or if it be convenient, we maybegin either with a relation of the business in question, or with astatement of the law, or with any other argument which must be broughtforward in the course of our speech, and on which we most greatlyrely; or if we choose to employ an exordium, then we must availourselves of the good-will already existing towards us, in order thatthat which does exist may be strengthened. 

XVI. In the kind of cause which I have called obscure, it will beadvisable to render the hearers inclined to receive instruction by acarefully prepared exordium. Now, since it has been already explainedwhat effect is to be sought to be produced by the exordium, it remainsfor us to show by what arguments all such effects may be produced. 

Good-will is produced by dwelling on four topics:--on one derived fromour own character, from that of our adversaries, from that of thejudges, and from the cause itself. From our own character, if wemanage so as to speak of our own actions and services withoutarrogance; if we refute the charges which have been brought againstus, and any other suspicions in the least, discreditable which it maybe endeavoured to attach to us; if we dilate upon the inconvenienceswhich have already befallen us, or the difficulties which are stillimpending over us; if we have recourse to prayers and to humble andsuppliant entreaty. From the character of our adversaries, if we areable to bring them either into hatred, or into unpopularity, or intocontempt. They will be brought into hatred, if any action of theirscan be adduced which has been lascivious, or arrogant, or cruel, ormalignant. They will be made unpopular, if we can dilate upon theirviolent behaviour, their power, their riches, their numerous kinsmen, their wealth, and their arrogant and intolerable use of all thesesources of influence; so that they may appear rather to trust to thesecircumstances than to the merits of their cause. They will be broughtinto contempt, if sloth, or negligence, or idleness, or indolentpursuits, or luxurious tranquillity can be alleged against them. Good-will will be procured, derived from the character of the hearersthemselves, if exploits are mentioned which have been performed bythem with bravery, or wisdom, or humanity; so that no excessiveflattery shall appear to be addressed to them; and if it is plainlyshown how high and honourable their reputation is, and how anxious isthe expectation with which men look for their decision and authority. Or from the circumstances themselves, if we extol our own cause withpraises, and disparage that of the opposite party by contemptuousallusions. 

But we shall make our hearers attentive, if we show that the thingswhich we are going to say and to speak of are important, and unusual, and incredible; and that they concern either all men, or those who areour present hearers, or some illustrious men, or the immortal gods, orthe general interests of the republic. And if we promise that we willin a very short time prove our own cause; and if we explain thewhole of the examination into the excuses alleged, or the differentexaminations, if there be more than one. 

We shall render our hearers willing to receive information, if weexplain the sum total of the cause with plainness and brevity, that isto say, the point on which the dispute hinges. For when you wish tomake a hearer inclined to receive information you must also render himattentive. For he is above all men willing to receive information whois prepared to listen with the greatest attention. 

XVII. The next thing which it seems requisite to speak of, is, howtopics intended to enable the orator to work his way into the goodgraces of his hearers ought to be handled. We must then use such asort of address as that when the kind of cause which we are conductingis that which I have called astonishing; that is to say, as I havestated before, when the disposition of the hearer is adverse to one. And that generally arises from one of three causes: either if therebe anything discreditable in the cause itself, or if any such beliefappears to have been already instilled into the hearer by those whohave spoken previously; or if one is appointed to speak at a time whenthose who have got to listen to one are wearied with hearing others. For sometimes when one is speaking, the mind of the hearer isalienated from one no less by this circumstance than by the twoformer. 

If the discreditable nature of one's cause excites the ill-will ofone's hearers, or if it be desirable to substitute for the man on whomthey look unfavourably another man to whom they are attached; or, forthe matter they regard with dislike, another matter of which theyapprove; or if it be desirable to substitute a person for a thing, ora thing for a person, in order that the mind of the hearer may be ledaway from that which he hates to that which he loves; and if yourobject is to conceal from view the fact that you are about to defendthat person or action which you are supposed to be going to defend;and then, when the hearer has been rendered more propitious, to entergradually on the defence, and to say that those things at which theopposite party is indignant appear scandalous to you also; and then, when you have propitiated him who is to listen to you, to show thatnone of all those things at all concern you, and to deny that you aregoing to say anything whatever respecting the opposite party whetherit be good or bad; so as not openly to attack those men who are lovedby your hearers, and yet doing it secretly as far as you can toalienate from them the favourable disposition of your hearers; andat the same time to mention the judgment of some other judges in asimilar case, or to quote the authority of some others as worthy ofimitation; and then to show that it is the very same point, or onevery like it, or one of greater or less importance, (as the case maymake it expedient, ) which is in question at present. 

If the speech of your adversaries appears to have made an impressionon your hearers, which is a thing which will be very easilyascertained by a man who understands what are the topics by which animpression is made; then it is requisite to promise that you willspeak first of all on that point which the opposite party considertheir especial stronghold, or else to begin with a reference to whathas been said by the adversary, and especially to what he saidlast; or else to appear to doubt, and to feel some perplexity andastonishment as to what you had best say first, or what argument it isdesirable to reply to first--for when a hearer sees the man whom theopposite party believe to be thrown into perplexity by their speechprepared with unshaken firmness to reply to it, he is generally apt tothink that he has assented to what has been said without sufficientconsideration, rather than that the present speaker is confidentwithout due grounds. But if fatigue has alienated the mind of thehearer from your cause, then it is advantageous to promise to speakmore briefly than you had been prepared to speak; and that you willnot imitate your adversary. 

If the case admit of it, it is not disadvantageous to begin with somenew topic, or with some one which may excite laughter; or with someargument which has arisen from the present moment; of which kind areany sudden noise or exclamation; or with something which you havealready prepared, which may embrace some apologue, or fable, or otherlaughable circumstance. Or, if the dignity of the subject shall seeminconsistent with jesting, in that case it is not disadvantageous tothrow in something sad, or novel, or terrible. For as satiety of foodand disgust is either relieved by some rather bitter taste, or is attimes appeased by a sweet taste; so a mind weary with listeningis either reinstated in its strength by astonishment, or else isrefreshed by laughter. 

XVIII. And these are pretty nearly the main things which it appeareddesirable to say separately concerning the exordium of a speech, andthe topics which an orator should use for the purpose of insinuatinghimself into the good grace of his hearers. And now it seems desirableto lay down some brief rules which may apply to both in common. 

An exordium ought to have a great deal of sententiousness and gravityin it, and altogether to embrace all things which have a referenceto dignity; because that is the most desirable effect to be producedwhich in the greatest degree recommends the speaker to his hearer. It should contain very little brilliancy, or wit, or elegance ofexpression, because from these qualities there always arises asuspicion of preparation and artificial diligence: and that is an ideawhich, above all others takes away credit from a speech, and authorityfrom a speaker. But the following are the most ordinary faults to befound in an exordium, and those it is above all things desirableto avoid. It must not be vulgar, common, easily changed, long, unconnected, borrowed, nor must it violate received rules. What I meanby vulgar, is one which may be so adapted to numerous causes as toappear to suit them all. That is common, which appears to be able tobe adapted no less to one side of the argument than to the other. Thatis easily changed, which with a slight alteration may be advanced bythe adversary on the other side of the question. That is long, whichis spun out by a superfluity of words or sentences far beyond what isnecessary. That is unconnected, which is not derived from the causeitself, and is not joined to the whole speech as a limb is to thebody. That is borrowed, which effects some other end than that whichthe kind of cause under discussion requires; as if a man wereto occupy himself in rendering his hearer inclined to receiveinformation, when the cause requires him only to be well disposedtowards the speaker: or, if a man uses a formal beginning of a speech, when what the subject requires is an address by which the speaker mayinsinuate himself into the good graces of his hearer. That is contraryto received rules, which effects no one of those objects for the sakeof which the rules concerning exordiums have been handed down. Thisis the sort of blunder which renders him who hears it neither welldisposed to one, nor inclined to receive information, nor attentive;or (and that indeed is the most disastrous effect of all) renders himof a totally contrary disposition. And now we have said enough aboutthe exordium. 

XIX. Narration is an explanation of acts that have been done, or ofacts as if they have been done. There are three kinds of narration. One kind is that in which the cause itself and the whole principle ofthe dispute is contained. Another is that in which some digression, unconnected with the immediate argument, is interposed, either for thesake of criminating another, or of instituting a comparison, or ofprovoking some mirth not altogether unsuitable to the business underdiscussion, or else for the sake of amplification. The third kind isaltogether foreign to civil causes, and is uttered or written for thesake of entertainment, combined with its giving practice, which is notaltogether useless. Of this last there are two divisions, the one ofwhich is chiefly conversant about things, and the other about persons. That which is concerned in the discussion and explanation of thingshas three parts, fable, history, and argument. Fable is that in whichstatements are expressed which are neither true nor probable, as isthis--

 "Huge winged snakes, join'd by one common yoke. "

History is an account of exploits which have been performed, removedfrom the recollection of our own age; of which sort is the statement, "Appius declared war against the Carthaginians. " Argument is animaginary case, which still might have happened. Such is this inTerence--

 "For after Sosia became a man. "

But that sort of narration which is conversant about persons, is ofsuch a sort that in it not only the facts themselves, but also theconversations of the persons concerned and their very minds can bethoroughly seen, in this way--

 "And oft he came to me with mournful voice, What is your aim, your conduct what? Oh why Do you this youth with these sad arts destroy? Why does he fall in love? Why seeks he wine, And why do you from time to time supply The means for such excess? You study dress And folly of all kinds; while he, if left To his own natural bent, is stern and strict, Almost beyond the claims of virtue. "

In this kind of narration there ought to be a great deal ofcheerfulness wrought up out of the variety of circumstances; out ofthe dissimilarity of dispositions; out of gravity, lenity, hope, fear, suspicion, regret, dissimulation, error, pity, the changes of fortune, unexpected disaster, sudden joy, and happy results. But theseembellishments may be derived from the precepts which will hereafterbe laid down about elocution. 

At present it seems best to speak of that kind of narration whichcontains an explanation of the cause under discussion. 

XX. It is desirable then that it should have three qualities; thatit should be brief, open, and probable. It will be brief, if thebeginning of it is derived from the quarter from which it ought to be;and if it is not endeavoured to be extracted from what has been lastsaid, and if the speaker forbears to enumerate all the parts ofa subject of which it is quite sufficient to state the totalresult;--for it is often sufficient to say what has been done, andthere is no necessity for his relating how it was done;--and if thespeaker does not in his narration go on at a greater length than thereis any occasion for, as far as the mere imparting of knowledge isconcerned; and if he does not make a digression to any other topic;and if he states his case in such a way, that sometimes that which hasnot been said may be understood from that which has been said; and ifhe passes over not only such topics as may be injurious, but those toowhich are neither injurious nor profitable; and if he repeats nothingmore than once; and if he does not at once begin with that topicwhich was last mentioned;--and the imitation of brevity takes in manypeople, so that, when they think that they are being brief, they areexceedingly prolix, while they are taking pains to say many thingswith brevity, not absolutely to say but few things and no more thanare necessary. For to many men a man appears to speak with brevity whosays, "I went to the house; I called out the servant; he answeredme; I asked for his master; he said that he was not at home. " Here, although he could not have enumerated so many particulars moreconcisely, yet, because it would have been enough to say, "He saidthat he was not at home, " he is prolix on account of the multitude ofcircumstances which he mentions. Wherefore, in this kind of narrationalso it is necessary to avoid the imitation of brevity, and we mustno less carefully avoid a heap of unnecessary circumstances than amultitude of words. 

But a narration will be able to be open, if those actions areexplained first which have been done first, and if the order oftransactions and times is preserved, so that the things are related asthey have been done, or as it shall seem that they may have been done. And in framing this narration it will be proper to take care thatnothing be said in a confused or distorted manner; that no digressionbe made to any other subject; that the affair may not be traced toofar back, nor carried too far forward; that nothing be passed overwhich is connected with the business in hand; and altogether theprecepts which have been laid down about brevity, must be attended toin this particular also. For it often happens that the truth is butlittle understood, more by reason of the prolixity of the speaker, than of the obscurity of the statement. And it is desirable to useclear language, which is a point to be dwelt upon when we come toprecepts for elocution. 

XXI. A narration will be probable, if in it those characteristics arevisible which are usually apparent in truth; if the dignity of thepersons mentioned is preserved; if the causes of the actions performedare made plain; if it shall appear that there were facilities forperforming them; if the time was suitable; if there was plenty ofroom; if the place is shown to have been suitable for the transactionwhich is the subject of the narration; if the whole business, inshort, be adapted to the nature of those who plead, and to the reportsbruited about among the common people, and to the preconceivedopinions of those who hear. And if these principles be observed, thenarration will appear like the truth. 

But besides all this, it will be necessary to take care that such anarration be not introduced when it will be a hindrance, or when itwill be of no advantage; and that it be not related in an unseasonableplace, or in a manner which the cause does not require. It is ahindrance, when the very narration of what has been done comes at atime that the hearer has conceived great displeasure at something, which it will be expedient to mitigate by argument, and by pleadingthe whole cause carefully. And when this is the case, it will bedesirable rather to scatter the different portions of the transactionslimb by limb as it were over the cause, and, as promptly as may be, to adapt them to each separate argument, in order that there may bea remedy at hand for the wound, and that the defence advanced may atonce mitigate the hatred which has arisen. 

Again, a narration is of no advantage when, after our case has oncebeen set forth by the opposite party, it is of no importance to relateit a second time or in another manner; or when the whole affair is soclearly comprehended by the hearers, as they believe at least that itcan do us no good to give them information respecting it in anotherfashion. And when this is the case, it is best to abstain from anynarration altogether. It is uttered in an unseasonable place, when itis not arranged in that part of the speech in which the case requiresit, and concerning this kind of blunder we will speak when we cometo mention the arrangement of the speech. For it is the generalarrangement of the whole that this affects. It is not related in themanner which the cause requires, when either that point which isadvantageous to the opposite party is explained in a clear and elegantmanner, or when that which may be of benefit to the speaker is statedin an obscure or careless way. Wherefore, in order that this fault maybe avoided, everything ought to be converted by the speaker to theadvantage of his own cause by passing over all things which makeagainst it which can be passed over, by touching lightly on thosepoints which are beneficial to the adversary, and by relating thosewhich are advantageous to himself carefully and clearly. And nowwe seem to have said enough about narration. Let us now pass on inregular order to the arrangement of the different topics. 

XXII An arrangement of the subjects to be mentioned in an argument, when properly made, renders the whole oration clear and intelligible. There are two parts in such a division, each of which is especiallyconnected with the opening of the cause, and with the arrangement ofthe whole discussion. One part is that which points out what are theparticulars as to which one is in agreement with the opposite party, and also what remains in dispute; and from this there is a certaindefinite thing pointed out to the hearer, as that to which he shoulddirect his attention. The other part is that in which the explanationof those matters on which we are about to speak, is briefly arrangedand pointed out. And this causes the hearer to retain certain thingsin his mind, so as to understand that when they have been discussedthe speech will be ended. At present it seems desirable to mentionbriefly how it is proper to use each kind of arrangement. And thisarrangement points out what is suitable and what is not suitable; itsduty is to turn that which is suitable to the advantage of its ownside, in this way--"I agree with the opposite party as to the fact, that a mother has been put to death by her son. " Again, on the otherside. --"We are both agreed that Agamemnon was slain by Clytaemnestra"For in saying this each speaker has laid down that proposition whichwas suitable, and nevertheless has consulted the advantage of his ownside. 

In the next place, what the matter in dispute is must be explained, when we come to mention the examination into the excuses which arealleged. And how that is managed has been already stated. 

But the arrangement which embraces the properly distributed explanationof the facts, ought to have brevity, completeness, conciseness. Brevity is when no word is introduced which is not necessary. This isuseful in this sort of speaking, because it is desirable to arrest theattention of the hearer by the facts themselves and the real divisionsof the case, and not by words or extraneous embellishments of diction. Completeness is that quality by which we embrace every sort ofargument which can have any connexion with the case concerning whichwe have got to speak, and in this division we must take care not toomit any useful topic, not to introduce any such too late, out of itsnatural place, for that is the most pernicious and discreditable errorof all. Conciseness in arrangement is preserved if the general classesof facts are clearly laid down, and are not entangled in a promiscuousmanner with the subordinate divisions. For a class is that whichembraces many subordinate divisions as, "an animal. " A subordinatedivision is that which is contained in the class as "a horse. "But very often the same thing may be a class to one person, and asubordinate division to another. For "man" is a subordinate divisionof "animal, " but a class as to "Theban, " or "Trojan. "

XXIII And I have been more careful in laying down this definition, inorder that after it has been clearly comprehended with reference tothe general arrangement, a conciseness as to classes or genera may bepreserved throughout the arrangement. For he who arranges his orationin this manner--"I will prove that by means of the covetousness andaudacity and avarice of our adversaries, all sorts of evils havefallen on the republic, " fails to perceive that in this arrangement ofhis, when he intended to mention only classes, he has joined also amention of a subordinate division. For covetousness is the generalclass under which all desires are comprehended, and beyond allquestion avarice is a subordinate division of that class. 

We must therefore avoid, after having mentioned a universal class, then, in the same arrangement, to mention along with it any one ofits subordinate divisions, as if it were something different anddissimilar. And if there are many subordinate divisions to anyparticular class, after that has been simply explained in the firstarrangement of the oration, it will be more easily and convenientlyarranged when we come to the subsequent explanation in the generalstatement of the case after the division. And this, too, concerns thesubject of conciseness, that we should not undertake to prove morethings than there is any occasion for, in this way--"I will prove thatthe opposite party were able to do what we accuse them of, and had theinclination to do it, and did it. " It is quite enough to prove thatthey did it. Or when there is no natural division at all in a cause, and when it is a simple question that is under discussion, though thatis a thing which cannot be of frequent occurrence, still we must usecareful arrangement. And these other precepts also, with respect tothe division of subjects which have no such great connexion with thepractice of orators, precepts which come into use in treatises inphilosophy, from which we have transferred, hither those whichappeared to be suitable to our purpose, of which we found nothing inthe other arts. And in all these precepts about the division of oursubjects, it will throughout our whole speech be found that everyportion of them must be discussed in the same order as that in whichit has been originally stated, and then, when everything has beenproperly explained, let the whole be summed up, and summed up so thatnothing be introduced subsequently besides the conclusion. The oldman in the Andria of Terence arranges briefly and conveniently thesubjects with which he wishes his freedman to become acquainted--

 "And thus the life and habits of my son And my designs respecting his career, And what I wish your course towards both to be, Will be quite plain to you. "

And accordingly, as he has proposed in his original arrangement, heproceeds to relate, first the life of his son--

 "For when, O Sosia, he became a man, He was allow'd more liberty"

Then comes his own design--

 "And now I take great care"

After that, what he wishes Sosia to do; that he put last in hisoriginal arrangement he now mentions last--

 "And now the part is yours" . .. 

As, therefore, in this instance, he came first to the portion which hehad mentioned first, and so, when he had discussed them all, made anend of speaking, we too ought to advance to each separate portion ofour subject, and when we had finished every part, to sum up. Nowit appears desirable to proceed in regular order to lay down someprecepts concerning the confirmation of our arguments, as the regularorder of the subject requires. 

XXIV Confirmation is that by means of which our speech proceeding inargument adds belief, and authority, and corroboration to our cause. As to this part there are certain fixed rules which will be dividedamong each separate class of causes. But it appeals to be not aninconvenient course to disentangle what is not unlike a wood, or avast promiscuous miss of materials all jumbled together, and afterthat to point out how it may be suitable to corroborate each separatekind of cause, after we have drawn all our principles of argumentationfrom this source. All statements are confirmed by some argument orother, either by that which is derived from persons, or by that whichis deduced from circumstances. Now we consider that these differentthings belong to persons, a name, nature, a way of life, fortune, custom, affection, pursuits, intentions, actions, accidents, orations. A name is that which is given to each separate person, so that eachis called by his own proper and fixed appellation. To define natureitself is difficult, but to enumerate those parts of it which werequire for the laying down of these precepts is more easy. 

And these refer partly to that portion of things which is divine, andpartly to that which is mortal. Now of things which are mortal onepart is classed among the race of men, and one among the race ofbrutes: and the race of men is distinguished by sex, whether they bemale or female and with respect to their nation, and country, andkindred, and age, with respect to their nation, whether a man be aGreek or a barbarian; with respect to their country, whether a man bean Athenian or a Lacedaemonian; with respect to their kindred, fromwhat ancestors a man is descended, and who are his relations; withrespect to his age, whether he is a boy, or a youth, or a fullgrown man, or an old man. Besides these things, those advantages ordisadvantages which come to a man by nature, whether in respect ofhis mind or his body, are taken into consideration, in thismanner:--whether he be strong or weak; whether he be tall or short;whether he be handsome or ugly; whether he be quick in his motions orslow; whether he be clever or stupid; whether he have a good memory, or whether he be forgetful; whether he be courteous, fond of doingkindnesses, modest, patient, or the contrary. And altogether all thesethings which are considered to be qualities conferred by nature onmen's minds or bodies, must be taken into consideration when definingnature. For those qualities which are acquired by industry relate to aman's condition, concerning which we must speak hereafter. 

XXV. With reference to a man's way of life it is proper to consideramong what men, and in what manner, and according to whose directionhe has been brought up; what teachers of the liberal sciences he hashad; what admonitors to encourage him to a proper course of life;with what friends he is intimate; in what business, or employment, orgainful pursuit he is occupied; in what manner he manages his estate, and what are his domestic habits. With reference to his fortune weinquire whether he is a slave or a free man; whether he is wealthy orpoor; whether he is a private individual or a man in office; if he bein office, whether he has become so properly or improperly; whether heis prosperous, illustrious, or the contrary; what sort of children hehas. And if we are inquiring about one who is no longer alive, then wemust consider also by what death he died. 

But when we speak of a man's habitual condition, we mean his constantand absolute completeness of mind or body, in some particularpoint--as for instance, his perception of virtue, or of some art, or else some science or other. And we include also some personaladvantages not given to him by nature, but procured by study andindustry. By affection, we mean a sudden alteration of mind or body, arising from some particular cause, as joy, desire, fear, annoyance, illness, weakness and other things which are found under the sameclass. But study is the assiduous and earnest application of themind, applied to some particular object with great good-will, as tophilosophy, poetry, geometry, or literature. By counsel, we mean acarefully considered resolution to do or not to do something. Butactions, and accidents, and speeches will be considered with referenceto three different times; what a man has done, what has happened tohim, or what he has said; or what he is doing, or what is happening tohim, or what he is saying; or what he is going to do, what is about tohappen to him, or what speech he is about to deliver. And all thesethings appear to be attributable to persons. 

XXVI. But of the considerations which belong to things, some areconnected with the thing itself which is the subject of discussion;some are considered in the performance of the thing; some are unitedwith the thing itself; some follow in the accomplishment of the thing. Those things are connected with the thing itself which appear alwaysto be attached to the thing and which cannot be separated from it. The first of such things is a brief exposition of the whole business, which contains the sum of the entire matter, in this way--"The slayingof a parent;" "the betrayal of a country. " Then comes the cause ofthis general fact; and we inquire by what means, and in what manner, and with what view such and such a thing has been done. After that weinquire what was done before this action under consideration was done, and all the steps which preceded this action. After that, what wasdone in the very execution of this action. And last of all, what hasbeen done since. 

But with reference to the performance of an action, which was thesecond topic of those which were attributed to things, the place, andthe time, and the manner, and the opportunity, and the facilities willbe inquired into. The place is taken into consideration in which thething was done; with reference to the opportunity which the doerseems to have had of executing the business; and that opportunity ismeasured by the importance of the action, by the interval which haselapsed, by the distance, by the nearness, by the solitude of theplace, or by the frequented character of it, by the nature of thespot itself and by the neighbourhood of the whole region. And it isestimated also with reference to these characteristics, whether theplace be sacred or not, public or private, whether it belongs orhas belonged to some one else, or to the man whose conduct is underconsideration. 

But the time is, that, I mean, which we are speaking of at the presentmoment, (for it is difficult to define it in a general view of itwith any exactness, ) a certain portion of eternity with some fixedlimitation of annual or monthly, or daily or nightly space. Inreference to this we take into consideration the things which arepassed, and those things which, by reason of the time which haselapsed since, have become so obsolete as to be considered incredible, and to be already classed among the number of fables, and those thingsalso which, having been performed a long time ago and at a time remotefrom our recollection, still affect us with a belief that they havebeen handed down truly, because certain memorials of those facts areextant in written documents, and those things which have been donelately, so that most people are able to be acquainted with them. Andalso those things which exist at the present moment, and which areactually taking place now, and which are the consequences of formeractions. And with reference to those things it is open to us toconsider which will happen sooner, and which later. And also generallyin considering questions of time, the distance or proximity of thetime is to be taken into account: for it is often proper to measurethe business done with the time occupied in doing it, and to considerwhether a business of such and such magnitude, or whether such andsuch a multitude of things, can be performed in that time. And weshould take into consideration the time of year, and of the month, andof the day, and of the night, and the watches, and the hours, and eachseparate portion of any one of these times. 

XXVII. An occasion is a portion of time having in it a suitableopportunity for doing or avoiding to do some particular thing. Wherefore there is this difference between it and time. For, as togenus, indeed, they are both understood to be identical; but in timesome space is expressed in some manner or other, which is regardedwith reference to years, or to a year, or to some portion of a year, but in an occasion, besides the space of time implied in the word, there is indicated an especial opportunity of doing something. Astherefore the two are identical in genus it is some portion andspecies as it were, in which the one differs, as we have said, fromthe other. 

Now occasion is distributed into three classes, public, common andsingular. That is a public occasion, which the whole city availsitself of for some particular cause, as games, a day of festival, orwar. That is a common occasion which happens to all men at nearly thesame time, as the harvest, the vintage, summer, or winter. That is asingular occasion, which, on account of some special cause, happensat times to some private individuals, as for instance, a wedding, asacrifice, a funeral, a feast, sleep. 

But the manner, also, is inquired into, in what manner, how, and withwhat design the action was done? Its parts are, the doer knowing whathe was about, and not knowing. But the degree of his knowledge ismeasured by these circumstances whether the doer did his actionsecretly, openly, under compulsion or through persuasion. The factof the absence of knowledge is brought forward as an excuse, and itsparts are actual ignorance, accident, necessity. It is also attributedto agitation of mind, that is, to annoyance, to passion to love, and to other feelings of a similar class. Facilities, are thosecircumstances owing to which a thing is done more easily, or withoutwhich a thing cannot be done at all. 

XXVIII. And it is understood that there is added to the generalconsideration of the whole matter, the consideration what is greaterthan and what is less than, and what is like the affair which isunder discussion, and what is equally important with it, and what iscontrary to it, and what is negatively opposed to it, and the wholeclassification of the affair, and the divisions of it, and theultimate result. The cases of greater, and less and equally important, are considered with reference to the power, and number and form of thebusiness, as if we were regarding the stature of a human body. 

Now what is similar arises out of a species admitting of comparisons. Now what admits of comparisons is estimated by a nature which may becompared with it, and likened to it. What is contrary, is what isplaced in a different class and is as distant as possible from thatthing to which it is called contrary, as cold is from heat anddeath from life. But that is negatively opposed to a thing which isseparated from the thing by an opposition which is limited to a denialof the quality; in this way, "to be wise, " and "not to be wise. " Thatis a genus which embraces several species, as "Cupidity. " That is aspecies which is subordinate to a genus, as "Love, " "Avarice. " TheResult is the ultimate termination of any business; in which it is acommon inquiry, what has resulted from each separate fact; what isresulting from it; what is likely to result from it. Wherefore, inorder that that which is likely to happen may be more convenientlycomprehended in the mind with respect to this genus, we ought firstto consider what is accustomed to result from every separatecircumstance; in this manner:--From arrogance, hatred usually results;and from insolence, arrogance. 

The fourth division is a natural consequence from those qualities, which we said were usually attributed to things in distinction frompersons. And with respect to this, those circumstances are sought forwhich ensue from a thing being done. In the first place, by what nameit is proper that that which has been done should be called. In thenext place, who have been the chief agents in, or originators of thataction; and last of all, who have been the approvers and the imitatorsof that precedent and of that discovery. In the next place, whetherthere is any regular usage established with regard to that case, orwhether there is any regular rule bearing on that case, or any regularcourse of proceeding, any formal decision, any science reduced torules, any artificial system. In the next place, whether its nature isin the habit of being ordinarily displayed, or whether it is so veryrarely, and whether it is quite unaccustomed to be so. After that, whether men are accustomed to approve of such a case with theirauthority, or to be offended at such actions; and with what eyes theylook upon the other circumstances which are in the habit of followingany similar conduct, either immediately or after an interval. Andin the very last place, we must take notice whether any of thosecircumstances which are rightly classed under honesty or utilityensue. But as to these matters it will be necessary to speak moreclearly when we come to mention the deliberative kind of argument. And the circumstances which we have now mentioned are those which areusually attributed to things as opposed to persons. 

XXIX. But all argumentation, which can be derived from those topicswhich we have mentioned, ought to be either probable or unavoidable. Indeed, to define it in a few words, argumentation appears to be aninvention of some sort, which either shows something or other in aprobable manner, or demonstrates it in an irrefutable one. Thosethings are demonstrated irrefutably which can neither be done norproved in any other manner whatever than that in which they arestated; in this manner:--"If she has had a child, she has lain witha man. " This sort of arguing, which is conversant with irrefutabledemonstration, is especially used in speaking in the way of dilemma, or enumeration, or simple inference. 

Dilemma is a case in which, whichever admission you make, you arefound fault with. For example:--"If he is a worthless fellow, why areyou intimate with him? If he is an excellent man, why do you accusehim?" Enumeration is a statement in which, when many matters have beenstated and all other arguments invalidated, the one which remains isinevitably proved; in this manner:--"It is quite plain that he wasslain by this man, either because of his enmity to him, or some fear, or hope, which he had conceived, or in order to gratify some friend ofhis; or, if none of these alternatives are true, then that he was notslain by him at all; for a great crime cannot be undertaken without amotive. But he had no quarrel with him, nor fear of him, nor hope ofany advantage to be gained by his death, nor did his death in theleast concern any friend of his. It remains, therefore, that he wasnot slain by him at all. " But a simple inference is declared from anecessary consequence, in this way:--"If you say that I did that atthat time, at that time I was beyond the sea; it follows, that I notonly did not do what you say I did, but that it was not even possiblefor me to have done it. " And it will be desirable to look to this verycarefully, in order that this sort of inference may not be refuted inany manner, so that the proof may not only have some sort of argumentin it, and some resemblance to an unavoidable conclusion, but that thevery argument itself may proceed on irrefutable reasons. 

But that is probable which is accustomed generally to take place, or which depends upon the opinion of men, or which contains someresemblance to these properties, whether it be false or true. In thatdescription of subject the most usual probable argument is somethingof this sort:--"If she is his mother, she loves her son. " "If he is anavaricious man, he neglects his oath. " But in the case which dependsmainly on opinion, probable arguments are such as this: "That thereare punishments prepared in the shades below for impious men. "--"Thatthose men who give their attention to philosophy do not think thatthere are gods. "

XXX. But resemblance is chiefly seen in things which are contrary toone another, or equal to one another, and in those things which fallunder the same principle. In things contrary to one another, in thismanner:--"For if it is right that those men should be pardoned whohave injured me unintentionally, it is also fitting that one shouldfeel no gratitude towards those who have benefited me because theycould not help it. "

In things equal to one another, in this way:--"For as a place withouta harbour cannot be safe for ships, so a mind without integrity cannotbe trustworthy for a man's friends. " In those things which fallunder the same principle a probable argument is considered in thisway:--"For if it be not discreditable to the Rhodians to let out theirport dues, then it is not discreditable even to Hermacreon to rentthem. " Then these arguments are true, in this manner:--"Since there isa scar, there has been a wound. " Then they are probable, in in thisway:--"If there was a great deal of dust on his shoes, he must havecome off a journey. " But (in order that we may arrange this matter incertain definite divisions) every probable argument which is assumedfor the purpose of discussion, is either a proof, or somethingcredible, or something already determined; or something which may becompared with something else. 

That is a proof which falls under some particular sense, and whichindicates something which appears to have proceeded from it, whicheither existed previously, or was in the thing itself, or has ensuedsince, and, nevertheless, requires the evidence of testimony, and amore authoritative confirmation, --as blood, flight, dust, paleness, and other tokens like these. That is a credible statement which, without any witness being heard, is confirmed in the opinion of thehearer; in this way:--There is no one who does not wish his childrento be free from injury, and happy. A case decided beforehand, is amatter approved of by the assent, or authority, or judgment of someperson or persons. It is seen in three kinds of decision;--thereligious one, the common one, the one depending on sanction. That isa religious one, which men on their oaths have decided in accordancewith the laws. That is a common one, which all men have almost in abody approved of and adopted; in this manner:--"That all men shouldrise up on the appearance of their elders; That all men should pitysuppliants. " That depends on sanction, which, as it was a doubtfulpoint what ought to be considered its character, men have establishedof their own authority; as, for instance, the conduct of the fatherof Gracchus, whom the Roman people made consul after his censorship, because he had done nothing in his censorship without the knowledge ofhis colleague. 

But that is a decision admitting of comparisons, which in a multitudeof different circumstances contains some principle which is alikein all. Its parts are three, --representation, collation, example. ARepresentation is a statement demonstrating some resemblance of bodiesor natures; Collation is a statement comparing one thing with another, because of their likeness to one another; Example is that whichconfirms or invalidates a case by some authority, or by what hashappened to some man, or under some especial circumstances. Instancesof these things, and descriptions of them, will be given amid theprecepts for oratory. And the source of all confirmations has beenalready explained as occasion offered, and has been demonstratedno less clearly than the nature of the case required. But how eachseparate statement, and each part of a statement, and every disputeought to be handled, --whether we refer to verbal discussion orto writings, --and what arguments are suitable for each kind ofdiscussion, we will mention, speaking separately of each kind, in thesecond book. At present we have only dropped hints about the numbers, and moods, and parts of arguing in an irregular and promiscuousmanner; hereafter we will digest (making careful distinctions betweenand selections from each kind of cause) what is suitable for each kindof discussion, culling it out of this abundance which we have alreadydisplayed. 

And indeed every sort of argument can be discovered from among thesetopics; and that, when discovered, it should be embellished, andseparated in certain divisions, is very agreeable, and highlynecessary, and is also a thing which has been greatly neglected bywriters on this art. Wherefore at this present time it is desirablefor us to speak of that sort of instruction, in order that perfectionof arguing may be added to the discovery of proper arguments. And allthis topic requires to be considered with great care and diligence, because there is not only great usefulness in this matter, but thereis also extreme difficulty in giving precepts. 

XXXI. All argumentation, therefore, is to be carried on either byinduction, or by ratiocination. Induction is a manner of speakingwhich, by means of facts which are not doubtful, forces the assent ofthe person to whom it is addressed. By which assent it causes him evento approve of some points which are doubtful, on account of theirresemblance to those things to which he has assented; as in theAeschines of Socrates, Socrates shows that Aspasia used to argue withXenophon's wife, and with Xenophon himself. "Tell me, I beg of you, Oyou wife of Xenophon, if your neighbour has better gold than you have, whether you prefer her gold or your own?" "Hers, " says she. "Supposeshe has dresses and other ornaments suited to women, of more valuethan those which you have, should you prefer your own or hers?" "Hers, to be sure, " answered she. "Come, then, " says Aspasia, "suppose shehas a better husband than you have, should you then prefer your ownhusband or hers?" On this the woman blushed. 

But Aspasia began a discourse with Xenophon himself. "I ask you, OXenophon, " says she, "if your neighbour has a better horse than yoursis, whether you would prefer your own horse or his?" "His, " says he. "Suppose he has a better farm than you have, which farm, I should liketo know, would you prefer to possess?" "Beyond all doubt, " says he, "that which is the best. " "Suppose he has a better wife than you have, would you prefer his wife?" And on this Xenophon himself was silent. Then spake Aspasia, --"Since each of you avoids answering me thatquestion alone which was the only one which I wished to have answered, I will tell you what each of you are thinking of; for both you, Owoman, wish to have the best husband, and you, O Xenophon, mostexceedingly desire to have the most excellent wife. Wherefore, unlessyou both so contrive matters that there shall not be on the wholeearth a more excellent man or a more admirable woman, then in truthyou will at all times desire above all things that which you think tobe the best thing in the world, namely, that you, O Xenophon, may bethe husband of the best possible wife; and you, O woman, that you maybe married to the most excellent husband possible. " After they haddeclared their assent to these far from doubtful propositions, itfollowed, on account of the resemblance of the cases, that if any onehad separately asked them about some doubtful point, that also wouldhave been admitted as certain, on account of the method employed inputting the question. 

This was a method of instruction which Socrates used to a greatextent, because he himself preferred bringing forward no arguments forthe purpose of persuasion, but wished rather that the person with whomhe was disputing should form his own conclusions from arguments withwhich he had furnished himself, and which he was unavoidably compelledto approve of from the grounds which he had already assented to. 

XXXII. And with reference to this kind of persuasion, it appears to medesirable to lay down a rule, in the first place, that the argumentwhich we bring forward by way of simile, should be such that it isimpossible to avoid admitting it. For the premiss on account ofwhich we intend to demand that that point which is doubtful shall beconceded to us, ought not to be doubtful itself. In the next place, wemust take care that that point, for the sake of establishing which theinduction is made, shall be really like those things which we haveadduced before as matters admitting of no question. For it will be ofno service to us that something has been already admitted, if that forthe sake of which we were desirous to get that statement admitted beunlike it; so that the hearer may not understand what is the use ofthose original inductions, or to what result they tend. 

For the man who sees that, if he is correct in giving his assent tothe thing about which he is first asked, that thing also to which hedoes not agree must unavoidably be admitted by him, very often willnot allow the examination to proceed any further, either by notanswering at all, or by answering wrongly. Wherefore it is necessarythat he should, by the method in which the inquiry is conducted, beled on without perceiving it, from the admissions which he has alreadymade, to admit that which he is not inclined to admit, and at lasthe must either decline to give an answer, or he must admit what iswanted, or he must deny it. If the proposition be denied, then we musteither show its resemblance to those things which have been alreadyadmitted or we must employ some other induction. If it be granted, then the argumentation may be brought to a close. If he keeps silence, then an answer must be extracted, or, since silence is very like aconfession, it may be as well to bring the discussion to a close, taking the silence to be equivalent to an admission. 

And so this kind of argumentation is threefold. The first partconsists of one simile, or of several, the second, of that which wedesire to have admitted, for the sake of which the similes havebeen employed, the third proceeds from the conclusion which eitherestablishes the admissions which have been made or points out what maybe established from it. 

XXXIII But because it will not appear to some people to have beenexplained with sufficient clearness, unless we submit some instancetaken from the civil class of causes, it seems desirable to employsome example of this sort, not because the rules to be laid downdiffer, or because it is expedient to employ such differently in thissort of discussion from what we should in ordinary discourse, but inorder to satisfy the desire of those men, who, though they may haveseen something in one place, are unable to recognise it in anotherunless it be proved. Therefore in this cause which is very notoriousamong the Greeks, that of Epaminondas, the general of the Thebans, whodid not give up his army to the magistrate who succeeded him in duecourse of law, and when he himself had retained his army a few dayscontrary to law, he utterly defeated the Lacedaemonians, the accusermight employ an argumentation by means of induction, while defendingthe letter of the law in opposition to its spirit, in this way:--

"If, O judges, the framer of the law had added to his law whatEpaminondas says that he intended, and had subjoined the exception'except where any one has omitted to deliver up his army for theadvantage of the republic, ' would you have endured it? I think not. And if you yourselves, (though, such a proceeding is very far fromyour religious habits and from your wisdom, ) for the sake of doinghonour to this man, were to order the same exception to be subjoinedto the law, would the Theban people endure that such a thing should bedone? Beyond all question it would not endure it. Can it possibly thenappear to you that that which would be scandalous if it were added toa law, should be proper to be done just as if it had been added to thelaw? I know your acuteness well; it cannot seem so to you, O judges. But if the intention of the framer of the law cannot be altered as toits expressions either by him or by you, then beware lest it should bea much more scandalous thing that that should be altered in fact, andby your decision, which cannot be altered in one single word. "

And we seem now to have said enough for the present respectinginduction. Next, let us consider the power and nature ofratiocination. 

XXXIV. Ratiocination is a sort of speaking, eliciting somethingprobable from the fact under consideration itself, which beingexplained and known of itself, confirms itself by its own power andprinciples. 

Those who have thought it profitable to pay diligent attention to thiskind of reasoning, have differed a little in the manner in which theyhave laid down rules, though they were aiming at the same end as faras the practice of speaking went. For some of them have said thatthere are five divisions of it, and some have thought that it had nomore parts than could be arranged under three divisions. And it wouldseem not useless to explain the dispute which exists between theseparties, with the reasons which each allege for it; for it is a shortone, and not such that either party appears to be talking nonsense. And this topic also appears to us to be one that it is not at allright to omit in speaking. 

Those who think that it ought to be arranged in five divisions, say that first of all it is desirable to explain the sum of thediscussion, in this way:--Those things are better managed which aredone on some deliberate plan, than those which are conducted withoutany steady design. This they call the first division. And then theythink it right that it should be further proved by various arguments, and by as copious statements as possible; in this way:--"That housewhich is governed by reason is better appointed in all things, andmore completely furnished, than that which is conducted at random, and on no settled plan;--that army which is commanded by a wise andskilful general, is governed more suitably in all particulars thanthat which is managed by the folly and rashness of any one. The sameprinciple prevails with respect to sailing; for that ship performs itsvoyage best which has the most experienced pilot. "

When the proposition has been proved in this manner, and when twoparts of the ratiocination have proceeded, they say in the third part, that it is desirable to assume, from the mere intrinsic force of theproposition, what you wish to prove; in this way:--"But none of allthose things is managed better than the entire world. " In the fourthdivision they adduce besides another argument in proof of thisassumption, in this manner:--"For both the rising and setting of thestars preserve some definite order, and their annual commutationsdo not only always take place in the same manner by some expressnecessity, but they are also adapted to the service of everything, andtheir daily and nightly changes have never injured anything in anyparticular from being altered capriciously. " And all these things area token that the nature of the world has been arranged by no ordinarywisdom. In the fifth division they bring forward that sort ofstatement, which either adduces that sort of fact alone which iscompelled in every possible manner, in this way:--"The world, therefore, is governed on some settled plan;" or else, when it hasbriefly united both the proposition and the assumption, it adds thiswhich is derived from both of them together, in this way:--"But ifthose things are managed better which are conducted on a settled plan, than those which are conducted without such settled plan; and ifnothing whatever is managed better than the entire world; therefore itfollows that the world is managed on a settled plan. " And in this waythey think that such argumentation has five divisions. 

XXXV. But those who affirm that it has only three divisions, do notthink that the argumentation ought to be conducted in any other way, but they find fault with this arrangement of the divisions. For theysay that neither the proposition nor the assumption ought to beseparated from their proofs; and that a proposition does not appear tobe complete, nor an assumption perfect, which is not corroborated byproof. Therefore, they say that what those other men divide into twoparts, proposition and proof, appears to them one part only, namelyproposition. For if it be not proved, the proposition has no businessto make part of the argumentation. In the same way they say thatthat which those other men call the assumption, and the proof of theassumption, appears to them to be assumption only. And the result is, that the whole argumentation being treated in the same way, appears tosome susceptible of five divisions, and to others of only three; sothat the difference does not so much affect the practice of speaking, as the principles on which the rules are to be laid down. 

But to us that arrangement appears to be more convenient which dividesit under five heads; and that is the one which all those who come fromthe school of Aristotle, or of Theophrastus, have chiefly followed. For as it is chiefly Socrates and the disciples of Socrates who haveemployed that former sort of argumentation which goes on induction, so this which is wrought up by ratiocination has been exceedinglypractised by Aristotle, and the Peripatetics, and Theophrastus; andafter them by those rhetoricians who are accounted the most elegantand the most skilful. And it seems desirable to explain why thatarrangement is more approved of by us, that we may not appear to haveadopted it capriciously; at the same time we must be brief in theexplanation, that we may not appear to dwell on such subjects longerthan the general manner of laying down rules requires. 

XXXVI. If in any sort of argumentation it is sufficient to use aproposition by itself, and if it is not requisite to add proof to theproposition; but if in any sort of argumentation a proposition is ofno power unless proof be added to it; then proof is something distinctfrom the proposition. For that which can be joined to a thing orseparated from it, cannot possibly be the same thing with that towhich it is joined or from which it is separated. But there is acertain kind of argumentation in which the proposition does notrequire confirmatory proof, and also another kind in which it is ofno use at all without such proof, as we shall show. Proof, then, is athing different from a proposition. And we will demonstrate that pointwhich we have promised to show in this way:--The proposition whichcontains in itself something manifest, because it is unavoidable thatthat should be admitted by all men, has no necessity for our desiringto prove and corroborate it. 

It is a sort of statement like this:--"If on the day on which thatmurder was committed at Rome, I was at Athens, I could not have beenpresent at that murder. " Because this is manifestly true, there is noneed to adduce proof of it; wherefore, it is proper at once to assumethe fact, in this way:--"But I was at Athens on that day. " If this isnot notorious, it requires proof; and when the proof is furnished theconclusion must follow:--"Therefore I could not have been present atthe murder. " There is, therefore, a certain kind of proposition whichdoes not require proof. For why need one waste time in proving thatthere is a kind which does require proof; for that is easily visibleto all men. And if this be the case, from this fact, and from thatstatement which we have established, it follows that proof issomething distinct from a proposition. And if it is so, it isevidently false that argumentation is susceptible of only threedivisions. 

In the same manner it is plain that there is another sort of proofalso which is distinct from assumption. For if in some sort ofargumentation it is sufficient to use assumption, and if it is notrequisite to add proof to the assumption; and if, again, in some sortof argumentation assumption is invalid unless proof be added to it;then proof is something separate and distinct from assumption. Butthere is a kind of argumentation in which assumption does not requireproof; and a certain other kind in which it is of no use withoutproof; as we shall show. Proof, then, is a thing distinct fromassumption. And we will demonstrate that which we have promised to inthis manner. 

That assumption which contains a truth evident to all men has no needof proof. That is an assumption of this sort:--"If it be desirableto be wise, it is proper to pay attention to philosophy. " Thisproposition requires proof. For it is not self-evident. Nor is itnotorious to all men, because many think that philosophy is of noservice at all, and some think that it is even a disservice. Aself-evident assumption is such as this:--"But it is desirable to bewise. " And because this is of itself evident from the simple fact, andis at once perceived to be true, there is no need that it be proved. Wherefore, the argumentation may be at once terminated:--"Thereforeit is proper to pay attention to philosophy. " There is, therefore, acertain kind of assumption which does not stand in need of proof; forit is evident that is a kind which does. Therefore, it is false thatargumentation is susceptible of only a threefold division. 

XXXVII. And from these considerations that also is evident, that thereis a certain kind of argumentation in which neither proposition norassumption stands in need of proof, of this sort, that we may adducesomething undoubted and concise, for the sake of example. "If wisdomis above all things to be desired, then folly is above all things tobe avoided; but wisdom is to be desired above all things, thereforefolly is above all things to be avoided. " Here both the assumption andthe proposition are self-evident, on which account neither of themstands in need of proof. And from all these facts it is manifest thatproof is at times added, and at times is not added. From which itis palpable that proof is not contained in a proposition, nor in anassumption, but that each being placed in its proper place, has itsown peculiar force fixed and belonging to itself. And if that is thecase, then those men have made a convenient arrangement who havedivided argumentation into five parts. 

Are there five parts of that argumentation which is carried on byratiocination? First of all, proposition, by which that topic isbriefly explained from which all the force of the ratiocination oughtto proceed. Then the proof of the proposition, by which that which hasbeen briefly set forth being corroborated by reasons, is made moreprobable and evident. Then assumption, by which that is assumed which, proceeding from the proposition, has its effect on proving the case. Then the proof of the assumption, by which that which has been assumedis confirmed by reasons. Lastly, the summing up, in which that whichresults from the entire argumentation is briefly explained. So theargumentation which has the greatest number of divisions consists ofthese five parts. 

The second sort of argumentation has four divisions; the third hasthree. Then there is one which has two; which, however, is a disputedpoint. And about each separate division it is possible that somepeople may think that there is room for a discussion. 

XXXVIII. Let us then bring forward some examples of those matterswhich are agreed upon. And in favour of those which are doubtful, letus bring forward some reasons. Now the argumentation which is dividedinto five divisions is of this sort:--It is desirable, O judges, torefer all laws to the advantage of the republic, and to interpret themwith reference to the general advantage, and according to the strictwording according to which they are drawn up. For our ancestors weremen of such virtue and such wisdom, that when they were drawing uplaws, they proposed to themselves no other object than the safety andadvantage of the republic; for they were neither willing themselves todraw up any law which could be injurious; and if they had drawn up oneof such a character, they were sure that it would be rejected when itstendency was perceived. For no one wishes to preserve the laws for thesake of the laws, but for the sake of the republic; because all menbelieve that the republic is best managed by means of laws. It isdesirable, therefore, to interpret all written laws with reference tothat cause for the sake of which it is desirable that the laws shouldbe preserved. That is to say, since we are servants of the republic, let us interpret the laws with reference to the advantage and benefitof the republic. For as it is not right to think that anything resultsfrom medicine except what has reference to the advantage of the body, since it is for the sake of the body that the science of medicine hasbeen established; so it is desirable to think that nothing proceedsfrom the laws except what is for the advantage of the republic, sinceit is for the sake of the republic that laws were instituted. 

Therefore, while deciding on this point, cease to inquire about thestrict letter of the law, and consider the law (as it is reasonable todo) with reference to the advantage of the republic. For what was moreadvantageous for the Thebans than for the Lacedaemonians to be putdown? What object was Epaminondas, the Theban general, more boundto aim at than the victory of the Thebans? What had he any right toconsider more precious or more dear to him, than the great glory thenacquired by the Thebans, than such an illustrious and magnificenttrophy? Surely, disregarding the letter of the law, it became him toconsider the intention of the framer of the law. And this now has beensufficiently insisted on, namely, that no law has ever been drawnup by any one, that had not for its object the benefit of thecommonwealth. He then thought that it was the very extremity ofmadness, not to interpret with reference to the advantage of therepublic, that which had been framed for the sake of the safety of therepublic. And it is right to interpret all laws with reference to thesafety of the republic; and if he was a great instrument of the safetyof the republic, certainly it is quite impossible that he by one andthe same action should have consulted the general welfare, and yetshould have violated the laws. 

XXXIX. But argumentation consists of four parts, when we eitheradvance a proposition, or claim an assumption without proof. That itis proper to do when either the proposition is understood by its ownmerits, or when the assumption is self-evident and is in need of noproof. If we pass over the proof of the proposition, the argumentationthen consists of four parts, and is conducted in this manner:--"Ojudges, you who are deciding on your oaths, in accordance with thelaw, ought to obey the laws; but you cannot obey the laws unlessyou follow that which is written in the law. For what more certainevidence of his intention could the framer of a law leave behind him, than that which he himself wrote with great care and diligence? But ifthere were no written documents, then we should be very anxious forthem, in order that the intention of the framer of the law might beascertained; nor should we permit Epaminondas, not even if he werebeyond the power of this tribunal, to interpret to us the meaning ofthe law; much less will we now permit him, when, the law is at hand, to interpret the intention of the lawgiver, not from that which ismost clearly written, but from that which is convenient for his owncause. But if you, O judges, are bound to obey the laws, and if youare unable to do so unless you follow what is written in the law; whatcan hinder your deciding that he has acted contrary to the laws?"

But if we pass over the proof of the assumption, again theargumentation will be arranged under four heads, in thismanner:--"When men have repeatedly deceived us, having pledged theirfaith to us, we ought not to give credit to anything that they say forif we receive any injury; in consequence of their perfidy, there willbe no one except ourselves whom we shall have any right to accuse. Andin the first place, it is inconvenient to be deceived, in thenext place, it is foolish, thirdly, it is disgraceful. But theCarthaginians have before this deceived us over and over again. It istherefore the greatest insanity to rest any hopes on their good faith, when you have been so often deceived by their treachery. "

When the proof both of the proposition and of the assumption is passedover, the argumentation becomes threefold only, in this way--"We musteither live in fear of the Carthaginians if we leave them with theirpower undiminished, or we must destroy their city. And certainly it isnot desirable to live in fear of them. The only remaining alternativethen is to destroy their city. "

XL But some people think that it is both possible and advisable attimes to pass over the summing up altogether, when it is quite evidentwhat is effected by ratiocination. And then if that be done theyconsider that the argumentation is limited to two divisions, in thisway--"If she has had a child she is not a virgin. But she has had achild. " In this case they say it is quite sufficient to state theproposition and assumption, since it is quite plain that the matterwhich is here stated is such as does not stand in need of summing up. But to us it seems that all ratiocination ought to be terminated inproper form and that that defect which offends them is above allthings to be avoided namely, that of introducing what is self evidentinto the summing up. 

But this will be possible to be effected if we come to a rightunderstanding of the different kinds of summing up. For we shalleither sum up in such a way as to unite together the proposition andthe assumption, in this way--"But if it is right for all laws to bereferred to the general advantage of the republic, and if this manensured the safety of the republic, undoubtedly he cannot by oneand the same action have consulted the general safety and yet haveviolated the laws, "--or thus, in order that the opinion we advocatemay be established by arguments drawn from contraries, in thismanner--"It is then the very greatest madness to build hopes on thegood faith of those men by whose treachery you have been so repeatedlydeceived, "--or so that that inference alone be drawn which is alreadyannounced, in this manner--"Let us then destroy their city, "--or sothat the conclusion which is desired must necessarily follow from theassertion which has been established, in this way--"If she has had achild, she has laid with a man. But she has had a child. " This then isestablished. "Therefore she has lain with a man. " If you are unwillingto draw this inference, and prefer inferring what follows, "Thereforeshe has committed incest, " you will have terminated your argumentationbut you will have missed an evident and natural summing up. 

Wherefore in long argumentations it is often desirable to drawinfluences from combinations of circumstances, or from contraries. Andbriefly to explain that point alone which is established, and inthose in which the result is evident, to employ arguments drawn fromconsequences. But if there are any people who think that argumentationever consists of one part alone they will be able to say that it isoften sufficient to carry-on an argumentation in this way. --"Sinceshe has had a child, she has lain with a man. " For they say thatthis assertion requires no proof, nor assumption, nor proof of anassumption, nor summing up. But it seems to us that they are misledby the ambiguity of the name. For argumentation signifies two thingsunder one name, because any discussion respecting anything which iseither probable or necessary is called argumentation, and so also isthe systematic polishing of such a discussion. 

When then they bring forward any statement of this kind, --"Since shehas had a child, she has lain, with a man, " they bring forward a plainassertion, not a highly worked up argument, but we are speaking of theparts of a highly worked up argument. 

XLI. That principle then has nothing to do with this matter. And withthe help of this distinction we will remove other obstacles which seemto be in the way of this classification, if any people think that itis possible that at times the assumption may be omitted, and at othertimes the proposition, and if this idea has in it anything probableor necessary, it is quite inevitable that it must affect the hearer insome great degree. And if it were the only object in view, and ifit made no difference in what manner that argument which had beenprojected was handled, it would be a great mistake to suppose thatthere is such a vast difference between the greatest orators andordinary ones. 

But it will be exceedingly desirable to infuse variety into ourspeech, for in all cases sameness is the mother of satiety. That willbe able to be managed if we not always enter upon our argumentationin a similar manner. For in the first place it is desirable todistinguish our orations as to their kinds, that is to say, at onetime to employ induction, and at another ratiocination. In the nextplace, in the argumentation itself, it is best not always to beginwith the proposition, nor in every case to employ all the fivedivisions, nor always to work up the different parts in the samemanner, but it is permissible sometimes to begin with the assumption, sometimes with one or other of the proofs, sometimes with both, sometimes to employ one kind of summing up, and sometimes another. Andin order that this variety may be seen, let us either write, or in anyexample whatever let us exercise this same principle with respect tothose things which we endeavour to prove, that our task may be as easyas possible. 

And concerning the parts of the argumentation it seems to us thatenough has been said. But we wish to have it understood that we holdthe doctrine that argumentations are handled in philosophy in manyother manners, and those too at times obscure ones, concerning which, however, there is still some definite system laid down. But stillthose methods appear to us to be inconsistent with the practice of anorator. But as to those things which we think belong to orators, wedo not indeed undertake to say that we have attended to them morecarefully than others have, but we do assert that we have written onthem with more accuracy and diligence. At present let us go on inregular order to the other points, as we originally proposed. 

XLII. Reprehension is that by means of which the proof adduced by theopposite party is invalidated by arguing, or is disparaged, or isreduced to nothing. And this sort of argument proceeds from the samesource of invention which confirmation employs, because whatever thetopics may be by means of which any statement can be confirmed, thevery same may be used in order to invalidate it. For nothing is tobe considered in all these inventions, except that which has beenattributed to persons or to things. Wherefore it will be necessarythat the invention and the high polish which ought to be given toargumentation must be transferred to this part of our oration alsofrom those rules which have been already laid down. But in order thatwe may give some precepts with reference to this part also, we willexplain the different methods of reprehension, and those who observethem will more easily be able to do away with or invalidate thosestatements which are made on the opposite side. 

All argumentation is reprehended when anything, whether it be onething only, or more than one of those positions which are assumed, isnot granted, or if, though they are granted, it is denied that theconclusion legitimately follows from them, or if it is shown that thevery kind of argumentation is faulty, or if in opposition to oneform and reliable sort of argumentation another is employed which isequally firm and convincing. Something of those positions which havebeen assumed is not granted when either that thing which the oppositeparty says is credible is denied to be such, or when what they thinkadmits of a comparison with the present case is shown to be unlikeit, or when what has been already decided is either turned asideas referring to something else, or is impeached as having beenerroneously decided, or when that which the opposite party have calleda proof is denied to be such, or if the summing up is denied insome one point or in every particular, or if it is shown that theenumeration of matters stated and proved is incorrect, or if thesimple conclusion is proved to contain something false. For everythingwhich is assumed for the purpose of arguing on, whether as necessaryor as only probable, must inevitably be assumed from these topics, aswe have already pointed out. 

XLIII. What is assumed as something credible is invalidated, if it iseither manifestly false, in this way:--"There is the one who would notprefer riches to wisdom. " Or on the opposite side something crediblemay be brought against it, in this manner--"Who is there who is notmore desirous of doing his duty than of acquiring money?" Or it may beutterly and absolutely incredible, as if some one, who it is notoriousis a miser, were to say that he had neglected the acquisition of somelarge sum of money for the sake of performing some inconsiderableduty. Or if that which happens in some circumstances, and to somepersons, were asserted to happen habitually in all cases and toeverybody, in this way. --'Those men who are poor have a greater regardfor money than for duty. ' 'It is very natural that a murder shouldhave been committed in that which is a desert place. ' How could a manbe murdered in a much frequented place? Or if a thing which is doneseldom is asserted never to be done at all, as Curius asserts in hisspeech in behalf of Fulvius, where he says, "No one can fall in loveat a single glance, or as he is passing by. "

But that which is assumed as a proof may be invalidated by arecurrence to the same topics as those by which it is sought to beestablished. For in a proof the first thing to be shown is that it istrue, and in the next place, that it is one especially affecting thematter which is under discussion, as blood is a proof of murder in thenext place, that that has been done which ought not to have been, orthat has not been done which ought to have been and last of all, thatthe person accused was acquainted with the law and usages affectingthe matter which is the subject of inquiry. For all these circumstanceare matters requiring proof, and we will explain them more carefully, when we come to speak about conjectural statements separately. Therefore, each of these points in a reprehension of the statement ofthe adversary must be laboured, and it must be shown either that suchand such a thing is no proof, or that it is an unimportant proof, orthat it is favourable to oneself rather than to the adversary, or thatit is altogether erroneously alleged, or that it may be diverted so asto give grounds to an entirely different suspicion. 

XLIV. But when anything is alleged as a proper object of comparison, since that is a class of argument which turns principally onresemblance, in reprehending the adversity it will be advisable todeny that there is any resemblance at all to the case with which it isattempted to institute the comparison. And that may be done if itbe proved to be different in genus or in nature, or in power, orin magnitude, or in time or place, or with reference to the personaffected, or to the opinions generally entertained of it. And if itbe shown also in what classification that which is brought forward onaccount of the alleged resemblance and in what place too the wholegenus with reference to which it is brought forward, ought to beplaced. After that it will be pointed out how the one thing differsfrom the other, from which we shall proceed to show that a differentopinion ought to be entertained of that which is brought forward byway of comparison, and of that to which it is sought to be compared. And this sort of argument we especially require when that particularargumentation which is carried on by means of induction is to bereprehended. If any previous decision be alleged, since these are thetopics by which it is principally established, the praise of those whohave delivered such decision, the resemblance of the matter which isat present under discussion to that which has already been the subjectof the decision referred to, that not only the decision is not foundfault with because it is mentioned, but that it is approved of byevery one, and by showing too, that the case which has been alreadydecided is a more difficult and a more important one than that whichis under consideration now. It will be desirable also to invalidateit by arguments drawn from the contrary topics, if either truth orprobability will allow us to do so. And it will be necessary to takecare and notice whether the matter which has been decided has any realconnexion with that which is the present subject of discussion, andwe must also take care that no case is adduced in which any error hasbeen committed, so that it should seem that we are passing judgment onthe man himself who has delivered the decision referred to. 

It is desirable further to take care that they do not bring forwardsome solitary or unusual decision when there have been many decisionsgiven the other way. For by such means as this the authority of thedecision alleged can be best invalidated. And it is desirable thatthose arguments which are assumed as probable should be handled inthis way. 

XLV. But those which are brought forward as necessary, if they areonly imitations of a necessary kind of argumentation and are not so inreality, may be reprehended in this manner. In the first place, thesumming up, which ought to take away the force of the admissions youhave made if it be a correct one, will never be reprehended, if itbe an incorrect one it may be attacked by two methods, either byconversion or by the invalidating one portion of it. By conversion, inthis way. 

 "For if the man be modest, why should you Attack so good a man? And if his heart And face be seats of shameless impudence, Then what avails your accusation Of one who views all fame with careless eye?"

In this case, whether you say that he is a modest man or that he isnot, he thinks that the unavoidable inference is that you should notaccuse him. But that may be reprehended by conversion thus--"Butindeed, he ought to be accused, for if he be modest, accuse him, forhe will not treat your imputations against him lightly, but if he hasa shameless disposition of mind, still accuse him, for in that case heis not a respectable man. "

And again, the argument may be reprehended by an invalidating ofthe other part of it--"But if he is a modest man, when he hasbeen corrected by your accusation he will abandon his error. " Anenumeration of particulars is understood to be faulty if we either saythat something has been passed over which we are willing to admit, orif some weak point has been included in it which can be contradicted, or if there is no reason why we may not honestly admit it. Somethingis passed over in such an enumeration as this. --"Since you havethat horse, you must either have bought it, or have acquired it byinheritance, or have received it as a gift, or he must have been bornon your estate, or, if none of these alternatives of the case, youmust have stolen it. But you did not buy it, nor did it come to you byinheritance, nor was it foaled on your estate, nor was it given to youas a present, therefore you must certainly have stolen it. "

This enumeration is fairly reprehended, if it can be alleged that thehorse was taken from the enemy, as that description of booty is notsold. And if that be alleged, the enumeration is disproved, since thatmatter has been stated which was passed over in such enumeration. 

XLVI. But it will also be reprehended in another manner, if anycontradictory statement is advanced; that is to say, just by way ofexample, if, to continue arguing from the previous case, it can beshown that the horse did come to one by inheritance, or if it shouldnot be discreditable to admit the last alternative, as if a person, when his adversaries said, --"You were either laying an ambush againstthe owner, or you were influenced by a friend, or you were carriedaway by covetousness, " were to confess that he was complying with theentreaties of his friend. 

But a simple conclusion is reprehended if that which follows does notappear of necessity to cohere with that which has gone before. Forthis very proposition, "If he breathes, he is alive, " "If it is day, it is light, " is a proposition of such a nature that the latterstatement appears of necessity to cohere with the preceding one. Butthis inference, "If she is his mother, she loves him, " "If he has everdone wrong, he will never be chastised, " ought to be reprehended insuch a manner as to show that the latter proposition does not ofnecessity cohere with the former. 

Inferences of this kind, and all other unavoidable conclusions, andindeed all argumentation whatever, and its reprehension too, containssome greater power and has a more extensive operation than is hereexplained. But the knowledge of this system is such that it cannotbe added to any portion of this art, not that it does of itselfseparately stand in need of a long time, and of deep and arduousconsideration. Wherefore those things shall be explained by us atanother time, and when we are dealing with another subject, ifopportunity be afforded us. At present we ought to be contented withthese precepts of the rhetoricians given for the use of orators. When, therefore, any one of these points which are assumed is not granted, the whole statement is invalidated by these means. 

XLVII. But when, though these things are admitted, a conclusion isnot derived from them, we must consider these points too, whether anyother conclusion is obtained, or whether anything else is meant, inthis way, --If, when any one says that he is gone to the army, and anyone chooses to use this mode of arguing against him, "If you had cometo the army you would have been seen by the military tribunes, but youwere not seen by them, therefore you did not go to the army. " On thiscase, when you have admitted the proposition, and the assumption, youhave got to invalidate the conclusion, for some other inference hasbeen drawn, and not the one which was inevitable. 

And at present, indeed, in order that the case might be more easilyunderstood, we have brought forward an example pregnant with amanifest and an enormous error; but it often happens that an errorwhen stated obscurely is taken for a truth; when either you do notrecollect exactly what admissions you have made, or perhaps you havegranted something as certain which is extremely doubtful. If you havegranted something which is doubtful on that side of the question whichyou yourself understand, then if the adversary should wish to adaptthat part to the other part by means of inference, it will bedesirable to show, not from the admission which you have made, butfrom what he has assumed, that an inference is really established; inthis manner:--"If you are in need of money, you have not got money. Ifyou have not got money, you are poor. But you are in need of money, for if it were not so you would not pay attention to commerce;therefore you are poor. " This is refuted in this way:--"When you said, if you are in need of money you have not got money, I understood youto mean, 'If you are in need of money from poverty, then you havenot got money;' and therefore I admitted the argument. But when youassumed, 'But you are in need of money, ' I understood you to mean, 'But you wish to have more money. ' But from these admissions thisresult, 'Therefore you are poor, ' does not follow. But it would followif I had made this admission to you in the first instance, that anyone who wished to have more money, had no money at all. "

XLVIII. But many often think that you have forgotten what admissionsyou made, and therefore an inference which does not followlegitimately is introduced into the summing up as if it did follow; inthis way:--"If the inheritance came to him, it is probable that hewas murdered by him. " Then they prove this at considerable length. Afterwards they assume, But the inheritance did come to him. Then theinference is deduced; Therefore he did murder him. But that doesnot necessarily follow from what they had assumed. Wherefore it isnecessary to take great care to notice both what is assumed, and whatnecessarily follows from those assumptions. But the whole descriptionof argumentation will be proved to be faulty on these accounts; ifeither there is any defect in the argumentation itself, or if it isnot adapted to the original intention. And there will be a defect inthe argumentation itself, if the whole of it is entirely false, orcommon, or ordinary, or trifling, or made up of remote suppositions;if the definition contained in it be faulty, if it be controverted, if it be too evident, if it be one which is not admitted, ordiscreditable, or objected to, or contrary, or inconstant, or adverseto one's object. 

That is false in which there is evidently a lie; in thismanner:--"That man cannot be wise who neglects money. But Socratesneglected money; therefore he was not wise. " That is common which doesnot make more in favour of our adversaries than of ourselves; inthis manner:--"Therefore, O judges, I have summed up in a few words, because I had truth on my side. " That is ordinary which, if theadmission be now made, can be transferred also to some other casewhich is not easily proved; in this manner:--"If he had not truth onhis side, O judges, he would never have risked committing himself toyour decision. " That is trifling which is either uttered after theproposition, in this way:--"If it had occurred to him, he would nothave done so;" or if a man wishes to conceal a matter manifestlydisgraceful under a trifling defence, in this manner:--

 "Then when all sought your favour, when your hand Wielded a mighty sceptre, I forsook you; But now when all fly from you, I prepare Alone, despising danger, to restore you. "

XLIX. That is remote which is sought to a superfluous extent, in thismanner:--"But if Publius Scipio had not given his daughter Cornelia inmarriage to Tiberius Gracchus, and if he had not had the two Gracchiby her, such terrible seditions would never have arisen. So that allthis distress appears attributable to Scipio. " And like this is thatcelebrated complaint--

 "Oh that the woodman's axe had spared the pine That long on Pelion's lofty summit grew. "[57]

For the cause is sought further back than is at all necessary. Thatis a bad definition, when it either describes common things in thismanner:--"He is seditious who is a bad and useless citizen;" for thisdoes not describe the character of a seditious man more than of anambitious one, --of a calumniator, than of any wicked man whatever, in short. Or when it says anything which is false; in thismanner:--"Wisdom is a knowledge how to acquire money. " Or when itcontains something which is neither dignified nor important; in thisway:--"Folly is a desire of inordinate glory. " That, indeed, is onefolly; but this is defining folly by a species, not by its wholegenus. It is controvertible when a doubtful cause is alleged, for thesake of proving a doubtful point; in this manner:--

 "See how the gods who rule the realms above And shades below, and all their motions sway, Themselves are all in tranquil concord found. "

That is self-evident, about which there is no dispute at all. As ifany one while accusing Orestes were to make it quite plain that hismother had been put to death by him. That is a disputable definition, when the very thing which we are amplifying is a matter in dispute. As if any one, while accusing Ulysses, were to dwell on this pointparticularly, that it is a scandalous thing that the bravest ofmen, Ajax, should have been slain by a most inactive man. That isdiscreditable which either with respect to the place in which it isspoken, or to the man who utters it, or to the time at which it isuttered, or to those who hear it, or to the matter which is thesubject of discussion, appears scandalous on account of the subjectbeing a discreditable one. That is an offensive one, which offends theinclinations of those who hear it; as if any one were to praise thejudiciary law of Caepio before the Roman knights, who are themselvesdesirous of acting as judges. 

L. That is a contrary definition, which is laid down in opposition tothe actions which those who are the hearers of the speech have done;as if any one were to be speaking before Alexander the Great againstsome stormer of a city, and were to say that nothing was more inhumanthan to destroy cities, when Alexander himself had destroyed Thebes. That is an inconsistent one, which is asserted by the same man indifferent senses concerning the same case; as if any one, after he hassaid that the man who has virtue is in need of nothing whatever forthe purpose of living well, were afterwards to deny that any one couldlive well without good health; or that he would stand by a friend indifficulty out of good-will towards him, for that then he would hopethat some good would accrue to himself by so doing. 

That is an adverse definition, which in some particular is an actualinjury to one's own cause; as if any one were to extol the power, andresources, and prosperity of the enemy, while encouraging his ownsoldiers to fight. If some part of the argumentation is not adapted tothe object which is or ought to be proposed to one, it will be foundto be owing to some one of these defects. If a man has promised agreat many points and proved only a few; or if, when he is bound toprove the whole, he speaks only of some portion; in this way:--Therace of women is avaricious; for Eriphyle sold the life of her husbandfor gold. Or if he does not speak in defence of that particular pointwhich is urged in accusation; as if any one when accused of corruptionwere to defend himself by the statement that he was brave; as Amphiondoes in Euripides, and so too in Pacuvius, who, when his musicalknowledge is found fault with, praises his knowledge of philosophy. Or if a part of conduct be found fault with on account of the badcharacter of the man; as if any one were to blame learning on accountof the vices of some learned men. Or if any one while wishing topraise somebody were to speak of his good fortune, and not of hisvirtue; or if any one were to compare one thing with another in sucha manner as to think that he was not praising the one unless he wasblaming the other; or if he were to praise the one in such a manner asto omit all mention of the other. 

Or if, when an inquiry is being carried on respecting one particularpoint, the speech is addressed to common topics; as if any one, whilemen are deliberating whether war shall be waged or not, were to devotehimself wholly to the praises of peace, and not to proving that thatparticular war is inexpedient. Or if a false reason for anything bealleged, in this way:--Money is good because it is the thing which, above all others, makes life happy. Or if one is alleged which isinvalid, as Plautus says:--

 "Sure to reprove a friend for evident faults Is but a thankless office; still 'tis useful, And wholesome for a youth of such an age, And so this day I will reprove my friend, Whose fault is palpable. "--_Plautus, Frinummus_, Act i. Sc. 2, l. 1. 

Or in this manner, if a man were to say, "Avarice is the greatestevil; for the desire of money causes great distress to numbers ofpeople. " Or it is unsuitable, in this manner:--"Friendship is thegreatest good for there are many pleasures in friendship. "

LI. The fourth manner of reprehension was stated to be that by which, in opposition to a solid argumentation, one equally, or still moresolid, has been advanced. And this kind of argumentation is especiallyemployed in deliberations when we admit that something which is saidin opposition to us is reasonable, but still prove that that conductwhich we are defending is necessary; or when we confess that the lineof conduct which they are advocating is useful, and prove that whatwe ourselves are contending for is honourable. And we have thought itnecessary to say thus much about reprehension; now we will lay downsome rules respecting the conclusion. 

Hermagoras places digression next in order, and then the ultimateconclusion. But in this digression he considers it proper to introducesome inferential topics, unconnected with the cause and with thedecision itself, which contain some praise of the speaker himself, orsome vituperation of the adversary, or else may lead to some othertopic from which he may derive some confirmation or reprehension, notby arguing, but by expanding the subject by some amplification orother. If any one thinks that this is a proper part of an oration, hemay follow Hermagoras. For precepts for embellishing, and praising, and blaming, have partly been already given by us, and partly will begiven hereafter in their proper place. But we do not think it rightthat this part should be classed among the regular divisions of aspeech, because it appears improper that there should be digressions, except to some common topics, concerning which subject we must speaksubsequently. But it does not seem desirable to handle praise andvituperation separately, but it seems better that they should beconsidered as forming part of the argumentation itself. At present wewill treat of the conclusion of an oration. 

LII. The conclusion is the end and terminating of the whole oration. It has three parts, --enumeration, indignation, and complaint. Enumeration is that by which matters which have been related in ascattered and diffuse manner are collected together, and, for the sakeof recollecting them, are brought under our view. If this is alwaystreated in the same manner, it will be completely evident to every onethat it is being handled according to some artificial system; but ifit be done in many various ways, the orator will be able to escapethis suspicion, and will not cause such weariness. Wherefore it willbe desirable to act in the way which most people adopt, on account ofits easiness; that is, to touch on each topic separately, and in thatmanner briefly to run over all sorts of argumentation; and also (whichis, however, more difficult) to recount what portions of the subjectyou previously mentioned in the arrangement of the subject, as thosewhich you promised to explain; and also to bring to the recollectionof your hearers the reasonings by which you established each separatepoint, and then to ask of those who are hearing you what it is whichthey ought to wish to be proved to them; in this way:--"We provedthis; we made that plain;" and by this means the hearer will recoverhis recollection of it, and will think that there is nothing besideswhich he ought to require. 

And in these kinds of conclusions, as has been said before, it willbe serviceable both to run over the arguments which you yourself haveemployed separately, and also (which is a matter requiring stillgreater art) to unite the opposite arguments with your own; and toshow how completely you have done away with the arguments which werebrought against you. And so, by a brief comparison, the recollectionof the hearer will be refreshed both as to the confirmation which youadduced, and as to the reprehension which you employed. And it will beuseful to vary these proceedings by other methods of pleading also. But you may carry on the enumeration in your own person, so as toremind your hearers of what you said, and in what part of your speechyou said each thing; and also you may bring on the stage some othercharacter, or some different circumstance, and then make your wholeenumeration with reference to that. If it is a person, in thisway:--"For if the framer of the law were to appear, and were toinquire of you why you doubted, what could you say after this, andthis, and this has been proved to you?" And in this case, as also inour own character, it will be in our power to run over all kinds ofargumentation separately: and at one time to refer all separate generato different classes of the division, and at another to ask of thehearer what he requires, and at another to adopt a similar course by acomparison of one's own arguments and those of the opposite party. 

But a different class of circumstance will be introduced if anenumerative oration be connected with any subject of this sort, --law, place, city, or monument, in this manner. --"What if the lawsthemselves could speak? Would not they also address this complaint toyou? What more do you require, O judges when this, and this, and thishas been already made plain to you?" And in this kind of argument itis allowable to use all these same methods. But this is given as acommon precept to guide one in framing an enumeration, that out ofevery part of the argument, since the whole cannot be repeated overagain, that is to be selected which is of the greatest weight, andthat each point is to be run over as briefly as possible, so thatit shall appear to be only a refreshing of the recollection of thehearers, not a repetition of the speech. 

LIII. Indignation is a kind of speech by which the effect produced is, that great hatred is excited against a man, or great dislike of someproceeding is originated. In an address of this kind we wish to havethis understood first, that it is possible to give vent to indignationfrom all those topics which we have suggested in laying down preceptsfor the confirmation of a speech. For any amplifications whatever, and every sort of indignation may be expressed, derived from thosecircumstances which are attributed to persons and to things, butstill we had better consider those precepts which can be laid downseparately with respect to indignation. 

The first topic is derived from authority, when we relate what a greatsubject of anxiety that affair has been to the immortal gods, or tothose whose authority ought to carry the greatest weight with it. And that topic will be derived from prophecies, from oracles, fromprophets, from tokens, from prodigies, from answers, and from otherthings like these. Also from our ancestors, from kings, from states, from nations from the wisest men, from the senate, the people, theframers of laws. The second topic is that by which it is shownwith amplification, by means of indignation, whom that affairconcerns, --whether it concerns all men or the greater part of men, (which is a most serious business, ) or whether it concerns the higherclasses, such as those men are on whose authority the indignationwhich we are professing is grounded, (which is most scandalous, ) orwhether it affects those men who are one's equals in courage, andfortune, and personal advantages, (which is most iniquitous, ) orwhether it affects our inferiors, (which is most arrogant). 

The third topic is that which we employ when we are inquiring what islikely to happen, if every one else acts in the same manner. And atthe same time we point out if this man is permitted to act thus, thatthere will be many imitators of the same audacity, and then from thatwe shall be able to point out how much evil will follow. 

The fourth topic is one by the use of which we show that many men areeagerly looking out to see what is decided, in order that they may beable to see by the precedent of what is allowed to one, what will beallowed to themselves also in similar circumstances. 

The fifth topic is one by the use of which we show that everythingelse which has been badly managed, as soon as the truth concerningthem is ascertained, may be all set right, that this thing, however, is one which, if it be once decided wrongly, cannot be altered by anydecision, nor set right by any power. 

The sixth topic is one by which the action spoken of is proved to havebeen done designedly and on purpose, and then we add this argument, that pardon ought not to be granted to an intentional crime. 

The seventh topic is one which we employ when we say that any deedis foul, and cruel, and nefarious, and tyrannical; that it has beeneffected by violence or by the influence of riches--a thing whichis as remote as possible from the laws and from all ideas of equaljustice. 

LIV. An eighth topic is one of which we avail ourselves to demonstratethat the crime which is the present subject of discussion is nota common one, --not one such as is often perpetrated. And, that isforeign to the nature of even men in a savage state, of the mostbarbarous nations, or even of brute beasts. Actions of this nature aresuch as are wrought with cruelty towards one's parents, or wife, orhusband, or children, or relations, or suppliants; next to them, if anything has been done with inhumanity towards a man'selders, --towards those connected with one by ties of hospitality, --towards one's neighbours or one's friends, --to those withwhom one has been in the habit of passing one's life, --to thoseby whom one has been brought up, --to those by whom one has beentaught, --to the dead, --to those who are miserable and deserving ofpity, --to men who are illustrious, noble, and who have been investedwith honours and offices, --to those who have neither had power toinjure another nor to defend themselves, such as boys, old men, women:by all which circumstances indignation is violently excited, and willbe able to awaken the greatest hatred against a man who has injuredany of these persons. 

The ninth topic is one by which the action which is the subject of thepresent discussion is compared with others which are admitted on allhands to be offences. And in that way it is shown by comparison howmuch more atrocious and scandalous is the action which is the presentsubject of discussion. 

The tenth topic is one by which we collect all the circumstances whichhave taken place in the performance of this action, and which havefollowed since that action, with great indignation at and reproach ofeach separate item, and by our description we bring the case as far aspossible before the eyes of the judge before whom we are speaking, sothat that which is scandalous may appear quite as scandalous to him asif he himself had been present to see what was done. 

The eleventh topic is one which we avail ourselves of when we aredesirous to show that the action has been done by him whom of all menin the world it least became to do it, and by whom indeed it ought tohave been prevented if any one else had endeavoured to do it. 

The twelfth topic is one by means of which we express our indignationthat we should be the first people to whom this has happened, and thatit has never occurred in any other instance. 

The thirteenth topic is when insult is shown to have been addedto injury, and by this topic we awaken hatred against pride andarrogance. 

The fourteenth topic is one which we avail ourselves of to entreatthose who hear us to consider our injuries as if they affectedthemselves; if they concern our children, to think of their own, ifour wives have been injured, to recollect their own wives, if it isour aged relations who have suffered, to remember their own fathers orancestors. 

The fifteenth topic is one by which we say that those things whichhave happened to us appear scandalous even to foes and enemies, andas a general rule, indignation is derived from one or other of thesetopics. 

LV. But complaint will usually take its origin from things of thiskind. Complaint is a speech seeking to move the pity of the hearers. In this it is necessary in the first place to render the dispositionof the hearer gentle and merciful, in order that it may the moreeasily be influenced by pity. And it will be desirable to produce thateffect by common topics, such as those by which the power of fortuneover all men is shown, and the weakness of men too is displayed, and if such an argument is argued with dignity and with impressivelanguage, then the minds of men are greatly softened, and prepared tofeel pity, while they consider their own weakness in the contemplationof the misfortunes of another. 

Then the first topic to raise pity is that by which we show how greatthe prosperity of our clients was, and how great their present miseryis. 

The second is one which is divided according to different periods, according to which it is shown in what miseries they have been, andstill are, and are likely to be hereafter. 

The third topic is that by which each separate inconvenience isdeplored, as, for instance, in speaking of the death of a man's son, the delight which the father took in his childhood, his love for him, his hope of him, the comfort he derived from him, the pains he tookin his bringing up, and all other instances of the same sort, may bementioned so as to exaggerate the complaint. 

The fourth topic is one in which all circumstances which arediscreditable or low or mean are brought forward, all circumstanceswhich are unworthy of a man's age, or both, or fortune, or formerhonours or services, all the disasters which they have suffered or areliable to suffer. 

The fifth topic is that by using which all disadvantages we broughtseparately before the eyes of the hearer, so that he who hears of themmay seem to see them, and by the very facts themselves, and not onlyby the description of them, may be moved to pity as if he had beenactually present. 

The sixth topic is one by which the person spoken of is shown to bemiserable, when he had no reason to expect any such fate; and thatwhen he was expecting something else, he not only failed to obtain it, but fell into the most terrible misfortunes. 

The seventh is one by which we suppose the fact of a similar mischancebefalling the men who are listening to us, and require of them whenthey behold us to call to mind their own children, or their parents, or some one for whom they are bound to entertain affections. 

The eighth is one by which something is said to have been done whichought not to have been done; or not to have been done which ought tohave been. In this manner:--"I was not present, I did not see him, I did not hear his last words, I did not receive his last breath. Moreover, he died amid his enemies, he lay shamefully unburied in anenemy's country, being torn to pieces by wild beasts, and was deprivedin death of even that honour which is the due of all men. "

The ninth is one by which our speech is made to refer to things whichare void both of language and sense; as if you were to adapt yourdiscourse to a horse, a house, or a garment; by which topics the mindsof those who are hearing, and who have been attached to any one, aregreatly moved. 

The tenth is one by which want, or weakness, or the desolate conditionof any one is pointed out. 

The eleventh is one in which is contained a recommendation to buryone's children, or one's parents, or one's own body, or to do anyother such thing. 

The twelfth is one in which a separation is lamented when you areseparated from any one with whom you have lived most pleasantly, --asfrom a parent, a son, a brother, an intimate friend. 

The thirteenth is one used when we complain with great indignationthat we are ill-treated by those by whom above all others we leastought to be so, --as by our relations, or by friends whom we haveserved, and whom we have expected to be assistants to us; or by whomit is a shameful thing to be ill-treated, --as by slaves, or freedmen, or clients, or suppliants. 

The fourteenth is one which is taken as an entreaty, in which thosewho hear us are entreated, in a humble and suppliant oration, to havepity on us. 

The fifteenth is one in which we show that we are complaining not onlyof our own fortunes, but of those who ought to be dear to us. 

The sixteenth is one by using which we show that our hearts are fullof pity for others; and yet give tokens at the same time that it willbe a great and lofty mind, and one able to endure disaster if any suchshould befall us. For often virtue and splendour, in which there isnaturally great influence and authority, have more effect in excitingpity than humility and entreaties. And when men's minds are moved itwill not be right to dwell longer on complaints; for, as Apolloniusthe rhetorician said, "Nothing dries quicker than a tear. "

But since we have already, as it seems, said enough of all thedifferent parts of a speech, and since this volume has swelled to agreat size, what follows next shall be stated in the second book. 

 * * * * *

THE SECOND BOOK OF THE RHETORIC, OR OF THE TREATISE ON RHETORICALINVENTION, OF M. T. CICERO. 

I. Some men of Crotona, when they were rich in all kinds of resources, and when they were considered among the most prosperous people inItaly, were desirous to enrich the temple of Juno, which they regardedwith the most religious veneration, with splendid pictures. Thereforethey hired Zeuxis of Heraclea at a vast price, who was at that timeconsidered to be far superior to all other painters, and employedhim in that business. He painted many other pictures, of which someportion, on account of the great respect in which the temple is held, has remained to within our recollection; and in order that one of hismute representations might contain the preeminent beauty of the femaleform, he said that he wished to paint a likeness of Helen. And the menof Crotona, who had frequently heard that he excelled all other men inpainting women, were very glad to hear this; for they thought that ifhe took the greatest pains in that class of work in which he had thegreatest skill, he would leave them a most noble work in that temple. 

Nor were they deceived in that expectation: for Zeuxis immediatelyasked of them what beautiful virgins they had; and they immediatelyled him into the palaestra, and there showed him numbers of boys ofthe highest birth and of the greatest beauty. For indeed, there was atime when the people of Crotona were far superior to all other citiesin the strength and beauty of their persons; and they brought homethe most honourable victories from the gymnastic contests, with thegreatest credit. While, therefore, he was admiring the figures of theboys and their personal perfection very greatly; "The sisters, " saythey, "of these boys are virgins in our city, so that how great theirbeauty is you may infer from these boys. " "Give me, then, " said he, "I beg you, the most beautiful of these virgins, while I paint thepicture which I promised you, so that the reality may be transferredfrom the breathing model to the mute likeness. " Then the citizens ofCrotona, in accordance with a public vote, collected the virgins intoone place, and gave the painter the opportunity of selecting whom hechose. But he selected five, whose names many poets have handed downto tradition, because they had been approved by the judgment of theman who was bound to have the most accurate judgment respectingbeauty. For he did not think that he could find all the componentparts of perfect beauty in one person, because nature has made nothingof any class absolutely perfect in every part. Therefore, as if naturewould not have enough to give to everybody if it had given everythingto one, it balances one advantage bestowed upon a person by anotherdisadvantage. 

II. But since the inclination has arisen in my mind to write atreatise on the art of speaking, we have not put forth any singlemodel of which every portion was necessarily to be copied by us, ofwhatever sort they might be; but, having collected together all thewriters on the subject into one place, we have selected what eachappears to have recommended which may be most serviceable, and we havethus culled the flower from various geniuses. For of those who areworthy of fame or recollection, there is no one who appears either tohave said nothing well, or everything admirably. So that it seemedfolly either to forsake the sensible maxims brought forward by anyone, merely because we are offended at some other blunder of his, or, on the other hand, to embrace his faults because we have been temptedby some sensible precept which he has also delivered. 

But if in other pursuits also men would select all that was found mostsensible from many sources, instead of devoting themselves to onefixed leader, they would err less on the side of arrogance; theywould not persist so much in error, and they would make less enormousmistakes through ignorance. And if we had as deep an acquaintance withthis art as he had with that of painting, perhaps this work of oursmight appear as admirable in its kind as his picture did. For we havehad an opportunity of selecting from a much more copious store ofmodels than he had. He was able to make his selection from one city, and from that number of virgins only which existed at that time andplace; but we have had opportunity of making our selection from allthe men who have ever lived from the very first beginning of thisscience, being reduced to a system up to the present day, and takingwhatever we thought worth while from all the stores which lay openbefore us. 

And Aristotle, indeed, has collected together all the ancient writerson this art, from the first writer on the subject and inventor of it, Tisias, and has compiled with great perspicuity the precepts of eachof them, mentioning them by name, after having sought them out withexceeding care; and he has disentangled them with great diligenceand explained their difficulties; and he has so greatly excelled theoriginal writers themselves in suavity and brevity of diction, that noone is acquainted with their precepts from their own writings, but allwho wish to know what maxims they have laid down, come back to him asto a far more agreeable expounder of their meaning. 

And he himself has set before us himself and those too who had livedbefore his time, in order that we might be acquainted with the methodof others, and with his own. And those who have followed him, althoughthey have expended a great deal of labour on the most profound andimportant portions of philosophy, as he himself also, whose examplethey were following, had done, have still left us many precepts on thesubject of speaking. And other masters of this science have also comeforward, taking their rise, as it were in other springs, who have alsobeen of great assistance in eloquence, as far at least as artificialrules can do any good. For there lived at the same time as Aristotle, a great and illustrious rhetorician, named Isocrates, though we havenot entirely discovered what his system was. 

But we have found many lessons respecting their art from his pupilsand from those who proceeded immediately afterwards from this school. 

III. From these two different families, as it were, the one of which, while it was chiefly occupied with philosophy, still devoted someportion of its attention to the rhetorical science, and the other waswholly absorbed in the study and teaching of eloquence, but both kindsof study were united by their successors, who brought to the aid oftheir own pursuits those things which appeared to have been profitablysaid by either of them, and those and the others their predecessorsare the men whom we and all our countrymen have proposed to ourselvesas models, as far as we were able to make them so, and we have alsocontributed something from our own stores to the common stock. 

But if the things which are set forth in these books deserved tobe selected with such great eagerness and care as they were, thencertainly, neither we ourselves nor others will repent of ourindustry. But if we appear either rashly to have passed over somedoctrine of some one worth noticing, or to have adopted it withoutsufficient elegance, in that case when we are taught better by someone, we will easily and cheerfully change our opinion. For what isdiscreditable is, not the knowing little, but the persisting foolishlyand long in what one does not understand, because the one thing isattributed to the common infirmity of man, but the other to theespecial fault of the individual. 

Wherefore we, without affirming anything positively, but makinginquiry at the same time, will advance each position with some doubt, lest while we gain this trifling point of being supposed to havewritten this treatise with tolerable neatness, we should lose thatwhich is of the greater importance, the credit, namely, of notadopting any idea rashly and arrogantly. But this we shall endeavourto gain both at present and during the whole course of our life withgreat care, as far as our abilities will enable us to do so. But atpresent, lest we should appear to be too prolix, we will speak of theother points which it seems desirable to insist on. 

Therefore, while we were explaining the proper classification of thisart, and its duties, and its object, and its subject matter, and itsdivisions, the first book contained an account of the different kindsof disputes, and inventions, and statements of cases, and decisions. After that, the parts of a speech were described, and all necessaryprecepts for all of them were laid down. So that we not only discussedother topics in that book with tolerable distinctness, we spokeat that same time in a more scattered manner of the topics ofconfirmation and reprehension; and at present we think it best to givecertain topics for confirming and reprehending, suited to every classof causes. And because it has been explained with some diligence inthe former book, in what manner argumentations ought to be handled, inthis book it will be sufficient to set forth the arguments which havebeen discovered for each kind of subject simply, and without anyembellishment, so that, in this book, the arguments themselves may befound, and in the former, the proper method of polishing them. So thatthe reader must refer the precepts which are now laid down, to thetopics of confirmation and reprehension. 

IV. Every discussion, whether demonstrative, or deliberative, orjudicial, must be conversant with some kind or other of statement ofthe case which has been explained in the former book; sometimes withone, sometimes with several. And though this is the case, still assome things can be laid down in a general way respecting everything, there are also other rules and different methods separately laid downfor each particular kind of discussion. For praise, or blame, or thestatement of an opinion, or accusation, or denial, ought all to effectdifferent ends. In judicial investigations the object of inquiry is, what is just, in demonstrative discussion the question is what ishonourable, in deliberations, in our opinion, what we inquire is, whatis honourable and at the same time expedient. For the other writerson this subject have thought it right to limit the consideration ofexpediency to speeches directed to persuasion or dissuasion. 

Those kinds of discussions then whose objects and results aredifferent, cannot be governed by the same precepts. Not that we aresaying now that the same statement of the case is not admissible inall of them, but some kinds of speech arise from the object and kindof the discussion, if it refers to the demonstration of some kind oflife, or to the delivery of some opinion. Wherefore now, in explainingcontroversies, we shall have to deal with causes and precepts of ajudicial kind, from which many precepts also which concern similardisputes will be transferred to other kinds of causes without muchdifficulty. But hereafter we will speak separately of each kind. 

At present we will begin with the conjectural statement of a caseof which this example may be sufficient to be given--A man overtookanother on his journey as he was going on some commercial expedition, and carrying a sum of money with him, he, as men often do entered intoconversation with him on the way, the result of which was, that theyboth proceeded together with some degree of friendship, so that whenthey had arrived at the same inn, they proposed to sup together and tosleep in the same apartment. Having supped, they retired to rest inthe same place. But when the innkeeper (for that is what is said tohave been discovered since, after the man had been detected in anothercrime) had taken notice of one of them, that is to say, of him who hadthe money, he came by night, after he had ascertained that they wereboth sound asleep, as men usually are when tired, and took from itssheath the sword of the one who had not the money, and which sword hehad lying by his side and slew the other man with it and took awayhis money, and replaced the bloody sword in the sheath, and returnedhimself to his bed. 

But the man with whose sword the murder had been committed, roselong before dawn and called over and over again on his companion; hethought that he did not answer because he was overcome with sleep; andso he took his sword and the rest of the things which he had with him, and departed on his journey alone. The innkeeper not long afterwardsraised an outcry that the man was murdered, and in company with someof his lodgers pursued the man who had gone away. They arrest him onhis journey, draw his sword out of its sheath, and find it bloody, theman is brought back to the city by them, and put on his trial. On thiscomes the allegation of the crime, "You murdered him, " and the denial, "I did not murder him, " and from this is collected the statement ofthe case. The question in the conjectural examination is the same asthat submitted to the judges, "Did he murder him, or not?"

V. Now we will set forth the topics one portion of which applies toall conjectural discussion. But it will be desirable to take notice ofthis in the exposition of these topics and of all the others, and toobserve that they do not all apply to every discussion. For as everyman's name is made up of some letters, and not of every letter, so itis not every store of arguments which applies to every argumentation, but some portion which is necessary applies to each. All conjecture, then, must be derived either from the cause of an action, or from theperson, or from the case itself. 

The cause of an action is divided into impulsion and ratiocination. Impulsion is that which without thought encourages a man to act insuch and such a manner, by means of producing some affection ofthe mind, as love, anger, melancholy, fondness for wine, or indeedanything by which the mind appears to be so affected as to be unableto examine anything with deliberation and care, and to do what it doesowing to some impulse of the mind, rather than in consequence of anydeliberate purpose. 

But ratiocination is a diligent and careful consideration of whetherwe shall do anything or not do it. And it is said to have been inoperation, when the mind appears for some particular definite reasonto have avoided something which ought not to have been done, or tohave adopted something which ought to have been done, so that ifanything is said to have been done for the sake of friendship, or ofchastising an enemy, or under the influence of fear, or of a desirefor glory or for money, or in short, to comprise everything underone brief general head, for the sake of retaining, or increasing, orobtaining any advantage; or, on the other hand, for the purpose ofrepelling, or diminishing, or avoiding any disadvantage;--for thoseformer things must fall under one or other of those heads, if eitherany inconvenience is submitted to for the purpose of avoiding anygreater inconvenience, or of obtaining any more important advantage;or if any advantage is passed by for the sake of obtaining someother still greater advantage, or of avoiding some more importantdisadvantage. 

This topic is as it were a sort of foundation of this statement of thecase; for nothing that is done is approved of by any one unless somereason be shown why it has been done. Therefore the accuser, when hesays that anything has been done in compliance with some impulse, ought to exaggerate that impulse, and any other agitation or affectionof the mind, with all the power of language and variety of sentimentsof which he is master, and to show how great the power of love is, howgreat the agitation of mind which arises from anger, or from any oneof those causes which he says was that which impelled any one to doanything. And here we must take care, by an enumeration of examples ofmen who have done anything under the influence of similar impulse, andby a collation of similar cases, and by an explanation of the way inwhich the mind itself is affected, to hinder its appearing marvellousif the mind of a man has been instigated by such influence to somepernicious or criminal action. 

VI. But when the orator says that any one has done such and suchan action, not through impulse, but in consequence of deliberatereasoning, he will then point out what advantage he has aimed at, or what inconvenience he has avoided, and he will exaggerate theinfluence of those motives as much as he can, so that as far aspossible the cause which led the person spoken of to do wrong, mayappear to have been an adequate one. If it was for the sake of glorythat he did so and so, then he will point out what glory he thoughtwould result from it; again, if he was influenced by desire of power, or riches, or by friendship, or by enmity; and altogether whatever themotive was, which he says was his inducement to the action, he willexaggerate as much as possible. 

And he is bound to give great attention to this point, not only whatthe effect would have been in reality, but still more what it wouldhave been in the opinion of the man whom he is accusing. For it makesno difference that there really was or was not any advantage ordisadvantage, if the man who is accused believed that there would orwould not be such. For opinion deceives men in two ways, when eitherthe matter itself is of a different kind from that which it isbelieved to be, or when the result is not such as they thought itwould be. The matter itself is of a different sort when they thinkthat which is good bad, or, on the other hand, when they think thatgood which is bad. Or when they think that good or bad which isneither good nor bad, or when they think that which is good or badneither bad nor good. 

Now that this is understood, if any one denies that there is any moneymore precious or sweeter to a man than his brother's or his friend'slife, or even than his own duty, the accuser is not to deny that; forthen the blame and the chief part of the hatred will be transferred tohim who denies that which is said so truly and so piously. But whathe ought to say is, that the man did not think so; and that assertionmust be derived from those topics which relate to the person, concerning whom we must speak hereafter. 

VII. But the result deceives a person, when a thing has a differentresult from that which the persons who are accused are said to havethought it would have. As when a man is said to have slain a differentperson from him whom he intended to slay, either because he wasdeceived by the likeness or by some suspicion, or by some falseindication; or that he slew a man who had not left him his heir in hiswill, because he believed that he had left him his heir. For it is notright to judge of a man's belief by the result, but rather to considerwith what expectation, and intention, and hope he proceeded to sucha crime; and to recollect that the matter of real importance is toconsider with what intention a man does a thing, and not what theconsequence of his action turns out to be. 

And in this topic this will be the great point for the accuser, if heis able to show that no one else had any reason for doing so at all. And the thing next in importance will be to show that no one else hadsuch great or sufficient reason for doing so. But if others appearalso to have had a motive for doing so, then we must show that theyhad either no power, or no opportunity, or no inclination to do it. They had no power if it can be said that they did not know it, or werenot in the place, or were unable to have accomplished it; they had noopportunity, if it can be proved that any plan, any assistants, anyinstruments, and all other things which relate to such an action, werewanting to them. They had no inclination, if their disposition can besaid to be entirely alien to such conduct, and unimpeachable. Lastly, whatever arguments we allow a man on his trial to use in his defence, the very same the prosecutor will employ in delivering others fromblame. But that must be done with brevity, and many arguments must becompressed into one, in order that he may not appear to be accusingthe man on his trial for the sake of defending some one else, but tobe defending some one else with a view to strengthen his accusationagainst him. 

VIII. And these are for the most part the things which must be doneand considered by an accuser. But the advocate for the defence willsay, on the other hand, either that there was no motive at all, or, ifhe admits that there was, he will make light of it, and show that itwas a very slight one, or that such conduct does not often proceedfrom such a motive. And with reference to this topic it will benecessary to point out what is the power and character of that motive, by which the person on his trial is said to have been induced tocommit any action; and in doing this it is requisite to adduceinstances and examples of similar cases, and the actual nature ofsuch a motive is to be explained as gently as possible, so that thecircumstance which is the subject of the discussion may be explainedaway, and instead of being considered as a cruel and disorderly act, may be represented as something more mild and considerate, and stillthe speech itself may be adapted to the mind of the hearer, and to asort of inner feeling, as it were, in his mind. 

But the orator will weaken the suspicions arising from theratiocination, if he shall say either that the advantage intimated hadno existence, or a very slight one, or that it was a greater one toothers, or that it was no greater advantage to himself than to others, or that it was a greater disadvantage than advantage to himself. So that the magnitude of the advantage which is said to have beendesired, was not to be compared with the disadvantage which was reallysustained, or with the danger which was incurred. And all those topicswill be handled in the same manner in speaking of the avoiding ofdisadvantage. 

But if the prosecutor has said that the man on his trial was pursuingwhat appeared to him to be an advantage, or was avoiding that whichappeared to him to be a disadvantage, even though he was mistaken inthat opinion, then the advocate for the defence must show that no onecan be so foolish as to be ignorant of the truth in such an affair. And if that be granted, then the other position cannot be granted, that the man ever doubted at all what the case was, but that he, without the least hesitation, considered what was false as false, and what was true as true. But if he doubted, then it was a proof ofabsolute insanity for a man under the influence of a doubtful hope toincur a certain danger. 

But as the accuser when he is seeking to remove the guilt from othersmust use the topics proper to an advocate for the defence; so the manon his trial must use those topics which have been allotted to anaccuser, when he wishes to transfer an accusation from his ownshoulders to those of others. 

IX. But conjectures will be derived from the person, if those thingswhich have been attributed to persons are diligently considered, allof which we have mentioned in the first book; for sometimes somesuspicion arises from the name. But when we say the name, we mean alsothe surname. For the question is about the particular and peculiarname of a man, as if we were to say that a man is called Caldusbecause he is a man of a hasty and sudden disposition; or thatignorant Greeks have been deceived by men being called Clodius, orCaecilius, or Marcus. 

And we may also derive some suspicious circumstances from nature; forall these questions, whether it is a man or a woman, whether he is ofthis state or that one, of what ancestors a man is descended, who arehis relations, what is his age, what is his disposition, what bodilystrength, or figure, or constitution he has, which are all portionsof a man's nature, have much influence in leading men to formconjectures. 

Many suspicions also are engendered by men's way of life, when theinquiry is how, and by whom, and among whom a man was brought up andeducated, and with whom he associates, and what system and habits ofdomestic life he is devoted to. 

Moreover, argumentation often arises from fortune; when we considerwhether a man is a slave or a free man, rich or poor, noble orignoble, prosperous or unfortunate; whether he now is, or has been, or is likely to be a private individual or a magistrate; or, in fact, when any one of those circumstances is sought to be ascertained whichare attributable to fortune. But as habit consists in some perfectand consistent formation of mind or body, of which kind are virtue, knowledge, and their contraries; the fact itself, when the wholecircumstances are stated, will show whether this topic affords anyground for suspicion. For the consideration of the state of aman's mind is apt to give good grounds for conjecture, as of hisaffectionate or passionate disposition, or of any annoyance to whichhe has been exposed; because the power of all such feelings andcircumstances is well understood, and what results ensue after any oneof them is very easy to be known. 

But since study is an assiduous and earnest application of the mindto any particular object with intense desire, that argument which thecase itself requires will easily be deduced from it. And again, some suspicion will be able to be inferred from the intention;for intention is a deliberate determination of doing or not doingsomething. And after this it will be easy to see with respect tofacts, and events, and speeches, which are divided into three separatetimes, whether they contribute anything to confirming the conjecturesalready formed in the way of suspicion. 

X. And those things indeed are attributed to persons, which when theyare all collected together in one place, it will be the business ofthe accuser to use them as inducing a disapprobation of the person;for the fact itself has but little force unless the disposition of theman who is accused can be brought under such suspicion as to appearnot to be inconsistent with such a fault. For although there is nogreat advantage in expressing disapprobation of any one's disposition, when there is no cause why he should have done wrong, still it is buta trifling thing that there should be a motive for an offence, if theman's disposition is proved to be inclined to no line of conduct whichis at all discreditable. Therefore the accuser ought to bring intodiscredit the life of the man whom he is accusing, by reference tohis previous actions, and to show whether he has ever been previouslyconvicted of a similar offence. And if he cannot show that, he mustshow whether he has ever incurred the suspicion of any similar guilt;and especially, if possible, that he has committed some offence orother of some kind under the influence of some similar motive to thiswhich is in existence here, in some similar case, or in an equallyimportant case, or in one more important, or in one less important. As, if with respect to a man who he says has been induced by money toact in such and such a manner, he were able to show that any otheraction of his in any case had been prompted by avarice. 

And again it will be desirable in every cause to mention the nature, or the manner of life, or the pursuits, or the fortune, or some one ofthose circumstances which are attributed to persons, in connexion withthat cause which the speaker says was the motive which induced the manon his trial to do wrong; and also, if one cannot impute anything tohim in respect of an exactly corresponding class of faults, to bringthe disposition of one's adversary into discredit by reference to somevery dissimilar class. As, if you were to accuse him of having doneso and so, because he was instigated by avarice; and yet, if you areunable to show that the man whom you accuse is avaricious, you mustshow that other vices are not wholly foreign to his nature, and thaton that account it is no great wonder if a man who in any affair hasbehaved basely, or covetously, or petulantly, should have erred inthis business also. For in proportion as you can detract fromthe honesty and authority of the man who is accused, in the sameproportion has the force of the whole defence been weakened. 

If it cannot be shown that the person on his trial has been everbefore implicated in any previous guilt, then that topic will comeinto play which we are to use for the purpose of encouraging thejudges to think that the former character of the man has no bearingon the present question; for that he has formerly concealed hiswickedness, but that he is now manifestly convicted; so that it is notproper that this case should be looked at with reference to his formerlife, but that his former life should now be reproved by this conductof his, and that formerly he had either no opportunity of doing wrong, or no motive to do so. Or if this cannot be said, then we must haverecourse to this last assertion, --that it is no wonder if he now doeswrong for the first time, for that it is necessary that a man whowishes to commit sin, must some time or other commit it for the firsttime. If nothing whatever is known of his previous life, then it isbest to pass over this topic, and to state the reason why it is passedover, and then to proceed at once to corroborate the accusation byarguments. 

XI. But the advocate for the defence ought in the first place to show, if he can, that the life of the person who is accused has always beenas honourable as possible. And he will do this best by recounting anywell known services which he has rendered to the state in general, or any that he has done to his parents, or relations, or friends, orkinsmen, or associates, or even any which are more remarkable or moreunusual, especially if they have been done with any extraordinarylabour, or danger, or both, or when there was no absolute necessity, purely because it was his duty, or if he has done any great benefit tothe republic, or to his parents, or to any other of the people whom Ihave just mentioned, and if, too, he can show that he has never beenso influenced by any covetousness as to abandon his duty, or to commitany error of any description. And this statement will be the moreconfirmed, if when it is said that he had an opportunity of doingsomething which was not quite creditable with impunity, it can beshown at the same time that he had no inclination to do it. 

But this very kind of argument will be all the stronger if the personon his trial can be shown to have been unimpeachable previously inthat particular sort of conduct of which he is now accused, as, forinstance, if he be accused of having done so and so for the sakeof avarice, and can be proved to have been all his life utterlyindifferent to the acquisition of money. On this indignation may beexpressed with great weight, united with a complaint that it is a mostmiserable thing, and it may be argued that it is a most scandalousthing, to think that that was the man's motive, when his dispositionduring the whole of his life has been as unlike it as possible. Such amotive often harries audacious men into guilt, but it has no power toimpel an upright man to sin. It is unjust, moreover, and injurious toevery virtuous man, that a previously well-spent life should not be ofthe greatest possible advantage to a man at such a time, but that adecision should be come to with reference only to a sudden accusationwhich can be got up in a hurry, and with no reference to a man'sprevious course of life, which cannot be extemporised to suit anoccasion, and which cannot be altered by any means. 

But if there have been any acts of baseness in his previous life, orif they be said to have undeservedly acquired such a reputation, or ifhis actions are to be attributed by the envy, or love of detraction, or mistaken opinion of some people, either to ignorance, or necessity, or to the persuasion of young men, or to any other affection of mindin which there is no vice, or if he has been tainted with errors ofa different kind, so that his disposition appears not entirelyfaultless, but still far remote from such a fault, and if hisdisgraceful or infamous course of life cannot possibly be mitigated byany speech, --then it will be proper to say that the inquiry does notconcern his life and habits, but is about that crime for which he isnow prosecuted, so that, omitting all former actions, it is properthat the matter which is in hand should be attended to. 

XII. But suspicions may be derived from the fact itself, if theadministration of the whole matter is examined into in all its parts;and these suspicions will arise partly from the affair itself whenviewed separately, and partly from the persons and the affairs takentogether. They will be able to be derived from the affair, if wediligently consider those circumstances which have been attributedto such affairs. And from them all the different genera, and mostsubordinate species, will appear to be collected together in thisstatement of the case. 

It will therefore be desirable to consider in the first place whatcircumstances there are which are united to the affair itself, --thatis to say, which cannot be separated from it, and with reference tothis topic it will be sufficient to consider what was done before theaffair in question took place from which a hope arose of accomplishingit, and an opportunity was sought of doing it, what happened withrespect to the affair itself, and what ensued afterwards. In the nextplace, the execution of the whole affair must be dealt with for thisclass of circumstances which have been attributed to the affair hasbeen discussed in the second topic. 

So with reference to this class of circumstances we must have aregard to time, place, occasion, and opportunity, the force of eachparticular of which has been already carefully explained when we werelaying down precepts for the confirmation of an argument. Wherefore, that we may not appear to have given no rules respecting these things, and that we may not, on the other hand, appear to have repeated thesame things twice over, we will briefly point out what it is propershould be considered in each part. In reference to place, then, opportunity is to be considered; and in reference to time, remoteness;and in reference to occasion, the convenience suitable for doinganything; and with reference to facility, the store and abundanceof those things by means of which anything is done more easily, orwithout which it cannot be done at all. 

In the next place we must consider what is added to the affair, thatis to say, what is greater, what is less, what is equally great, whatis similar. And from these topics some conjecture is derived, ifproper consideration is given to the question how affairs of greaterimportance, or of less, or of equal magnitude, or of similarcharacter, are usually transacted. And in this class of subjects theresult also ought to be examined into; that is to say, what usuallyensues as the consequence of every action must be carefullyconsidered; as, for instance, fear, joy, trepidation. 

But the fourth part was a necessary consequence from thosecircumstances which we said were attendant on affairs. In it thosethings are examined which follow the accomplishment of an affair, either immediately or after an interval. And in this examination weshall see whether there is any custom, any action, any system, orpractice, or habit, any general approval or disapproval on the part ofmankind in general, from which circumstance some suspicion at timesarises. 

XIII. But there are some suspicions which are derived from thecircumstances which are attributed to persons and things takentogether. For many circumstances arising from fortune, and fromnature, and from the way of a man's life, and from his pursuitsand actions, and from chance, or from speeches, or from a person'sdesigns, or from his usual habit of mind or body, have reference tothe same things which render a statement credible or incredible, andwhich are combined with a suspicion of the fact. 

For it is above all things desirable that inquiry should be made inthis way, of stating the case first of all, whether anything could bedone; in the next place, whether it could have been done by any oneelse; then we consider the opportunity, on which we have spokenbefore; then whether what has been done is a crime which one isbound to repent of; we must inquire too whether he had any hope ofconcealing it; then whether there was any necessity for his doing so;and as to this we must inquire both whether it was necessary that thething should be done at all, or that it should be done in that manner. And some portion of these considerations refer to the design, whichhas been already spoken of as what is attributed to persons; as in theinstance of that cause which we have mentioned. These circumstanceswill be spoken of as before the affair, --the facts, I mean, of hishaving joined himself to him so intimately on the march, of his havingsought occasion to speak with him, of his having lodged with him, and supped with him. These circumstances were a part of theaffair, --night, and sleep. These came after the affair, --the factof his having departed by himself; of his having left his intimatecompanion with such indifference; of his having a bloody sword. 

Part of these things refer to the design. For the question is asked, whether the plan of executing this deed appears to have been onecarefully devised and considered, or whether it was adopted so hastilythat it is not likely that any one should have gone on to crime sorashly. And in this inquiry we ask also whether the deed could havebeen done with equal ease in any other manner; or whether it couldhave happened by chance. For very often if there has been a want ofmoney, or means, or assistants, there would not appear to have beenany opportunity of doing such a deed. If we take careful noticein this way, we shall see that all these circumstances which areattributed to things, and those too which are attributed to persons, fit one another. In this case it is neither easy nor necessary, as itis in the former divisions, to draw distinctions as to how the accuserand how the advocate for the defence ought to handle each topic. Itis not necessary, because, when the case is once stated, thecircumstances themselves will teach those men, who do not expect tofind everything imaginable in this treatise, what is suitable for eachcase; and they will apply a reasonable degree of understanding to therules which are here laid down, in the way of comparing them with thesystems of others. And it is not easy, because it would be an endlessbusiness to enter into a separate explanation with respect to everyportion of every case; and besides, these circumstances are adapted toeach part of the case in different manners on different occasions. 

XIV. Wherefore it will be desirable to consider what we have now setforth. And our mind will approach invention with more ease, if itoften and carefully goes over both its own relation and that ofthe opposite party, of what has been done; and if, eliciting whatsuspicions each part gives rise to, it considers why, and with whatintention, and with what hopes and plans, each thing was done. Why itwas done in this manner rather than in that; why by this man ratherthan by that; why it was done without any assistant, or why with thisone; why no one was privy to it, or why somebody was, or why thisparticular person was; why this was done before; why this was not donebefore; why it was done in this particular instance; why it was doneafterwards; what was done designedly, or what came as a consequence ofthe original action; whether the speech is consistent with the factsor with itself; whether this is a token of this thing, or of thatthing, or of both this and that, and which it is a token of most; whathas been done which ought not to have been done, or what has not beendone which ought to have been done. 

When the mind considers every portion of the whole business with thisintention, then the topics which have been reserved, will come intouse, which we have already spoken of; and certain arguments willbe derived from them both separately and unitedly. Part of whicharguments will depend on what is probable, part on what is necessary;there will be added also to conjecture questions, testimony, reports. All of which things each party ought to endeavour by a similar use ofthese rules to turn to the advantage of his own cause. For it will bedesirable to suggest suspicions from questions, from evidence, andfrom some report or other, in the same manner as they have beenderived from the cause, or the person, or the action. 

Wherefore those men appear to us to be mistaken who think that thiskind of suspicion does not need any regular system, and so do thosewho think that it is better to give rules in a different manner aboutthe whole method of conjectural argument. For all conjecture must bederived from the same topics; for both the cause of every rumour andthe truth of it will be found to arise from the things attributed tohim who in his inquiry has made any particular statement, and to himwho has done so in his evidence. But in every cause a part of thearguments is joined to that cause alone which is expressed, and it isderived from it in such a manner that it cannot be very convenientlytransferred from it to all other causes of the same kind; but partof it is more rambling, and adapted either to all causes of the samekind, or at all events to most of them. 

XV. These arguments then which can be transferred to many causes, we call common topics. For a common topic either contains someamplification of a well understood thing, --as if any one were desirousto show that a man who has murdered his father is worthy of the veryextremity of punishment; and this topic is not to be used except whenthe cause has been proved and is being summed up;--or of a doubtfulmatter which has some probable arguments which can be produced on theother side of the question also; as a man may say that it is right toput confidence in suspicions, and, on the contrary, that it is notright to put confidence in suspicions. And a portion of the commontopics is employed in indignation or in complaint, concerning which wehave spoken already. A part is used in urging any probable reason oneither side. 

But an oration is chiefly distinguished and made plain by a sparingintroduction of common topics, and by giving the hearers actualinformation by some topics, and by confirming previously usedarguments in the same way. For it is allowable to say something commonwhen any topic peculiar to the cause is introduced with care; and whenthe mind of the hearer is refreshed so as to be inclined to attend towhat follows, or is reawakened by everything which has been alreadysaid. For all the embellishments of elocution, in which there is agreat deal both of sweetness and gravity, and all things, too, whichhave any dignity in the invention of words or sentences, are bestowedupon common topics. 

Wherefore there are not as many common topics for orators as there arefor lawyers. For they cannot be handled with elegance and weight, astheir nature requires, except by those who have acquired a great flowof words and ideas by constant practice. And this is enough for us tosay in a general way concerning the entire class of common topics. 

XVI. Now we will proceed to explain what common topics are usuallyavailable in a conjectural statement of a case. As for instance--thatit is proper to place confidence in suspicions, or that it is notproper, that it is proper to believe witnesses, or that it is notproper, that it is proper to believe examinations, or that it is notproper, that it is proper to pay attention to the previous course of aman's life, or that it is not proper, that it is quite natural that aman who has done so and so should have committed this crime also, orthat it is not natural, that it is especially necessary to considerthe motive, or that it is not necessary. And all these common topics, and any others which arise out of any argument peculiar to the causein hand, may be turned either way. 

But there is one certain topic for an accuser by which he exaggeratesthe atrocity of an action, and there is another by which he says thatit is not necessary to pity the miserable. That, too, is a topic foran advocate for the defence by which the false accusations of theaccusers are shown up with indignation, and that by which pity isendeavoured to be excited by complaints. These and all other commontopics are derived from the same rules from which the other systemsof arguments proceed, but those are handled in a more delicate, andacute, and subtle manner, and these with more gravity, and moreembellishment, and with carefully selected words and ideas. For inthem the object is, that that which is stated may appear to be true. In these, although it is desirable to preserve the appearance oftruth, still the main object is to give importance to the statement. Now let us pass on to another statement of the case. 

XVII. When there is a dispute as to the name of a thing because themeaning of a name is to be defined by words, it is called a definitivestatement. By way of giving an example of this, the following case maybe adduced. Caius Flaminius, who as consul met with great disasters inthe second Punic war, when he was tribune of the people, proposed, ina very seditious manner, an agrarian law to the people, against theconsent of the senate, and altogether against the will of all thenobles. While he was holding an assembly of the people, his own fatherdragged him from the temple. He is impeached of treason. The chargeis--"You attacked the majesty of the people in dragging down a tribuneof the people from the temple. " The denial is--"I did not attack themajesty of the people. " The question is--"Whether he attacked themajesty of the people or not?" The argument is--"I only used the powerwhich I legitimately had over my own son. " The denial of this argumentis--"But a man who, by the power belonging to him as a father, that isto say, as a private individual, attacks the power of a tribune of thepeople, that is to say, the power of the people itself, attacks themajesty of the people. " The question for the judges is--"Whether a manattacks the majesty of the people who uses his power as a father inopposition to the power of a tribune?" And all the arguments must bebrought to bear on this question. 

And, that no one may suppose by any chance that we are not aware thatsome other statement of the case may perhaps be applicable to thiscause, we are taking that portion only for which we are going to giverules. But when all parts have been explained in this book, any one, if he will only attend diligently, will see every sort of statementin every sort of cause, and all their parts, and all the discussionswhich are incidental to them. For we shall mention them all. 

The first topic then for an accuser is a short and plain definition, and one in accordance with the general opinion of men, of that name, the meaning of which is the subject of inquiry. In this manner--"Toattack the majesty of the people is to detract from the dignity, orthe rank, or the power of the people, or of those men to whom thepeople has given power. " This definition being thus briefly set forthin words, must be confirmed by many assertions and reasons and mustbe shown to be such as you have described it. Afterwards it will bedesirable to add to the definition which you have given, the actionof the man who is accused, and to add it too with reference to thecharacter which you have proved it to have. Take for instance--"toattack the majesty of the people. " You must show that the adversarydoes attack the majesty of the people, and you must confirm this wholetopic by a common topic, by which the atrocity or indignity of thefact, and the whole guilt of it, and also our indignation at it, maybe increased. 

After that it will be desirable to invalidate the definition of theadversaries, but that will be invalidated if it be proved to be false. This proof must be deduced from the belief of men concerning it, when we consider in what manner and under what circumstances menare accustomed to use that expression in their ordinary writing ortalking. It will also be invalidated if the proof of that descriptionbe shown to be discreditable or useless, and if it be shown whatdisadvantages will ensue if that position be once admitted. Andit will be derived from the divisions of honour and usefulness, concerning which we will give rules when we lay down a systemof deliberations. And if we compare the definition given by ouradversaries with our own definition, and prove our own to be true, andhonourable, and useful, and theirs to be entirely different. But weshall seek out things like them in an affair of either greater, orless, or equal importance, from which our description will be proved. 

XVIII Now, if there be more matters to be defined, --as for instance, if we inquire whether he is a thief or a sacrilegious person who hasstolen sacred vessels from a private house, --we shall have to employmany definitions, and then the whole cause will have to be dealt withon a similar principle. But it is a common topic to dwell on thewickedness of that man who endeavours to wrest to his own purposes notonly the effect of things, but also the meaning of words, in orderboth to do as he pleases, and to call what he does by whatever name helikes. 

Then the first topic to be used by an advocate for the defence, isalso a brief and plain definition of a name, adopted in accordancewith the opinion of men. In this way--To diminish the majesty of thepeople is to usurp some of the public powers when you are not investedwith any office. And then the confirmation of this definition isderived from similar instances and similar principles. Afterwardscomes the separation of one's own action from that definition. Thencomes the common topic by which the expediency or honesty of theaction is increased. 

Then comes the reprehension of the definition of the opposite party, which is also derived from all the same topics as those which we haveprescribed to the accuser. And afterwards other arguments will beadduced besides the common topic. But that will be a common topicfor the advocate of the defence to use, by which he will expressindignation that the accuser not only alters facts in order to bringhim into danger, but that he attempts also to alter words. Forthose common topics which are assumed either for the purpose ofdemonstrating the falsehood of the accusations of the prosecutor, orfor exciting pity, or for expressing indignation at an action, or forthe purpose of deterring people from showing pity, are derived fromthe magnitude of the danger, not from the nature of the cause. Wherefore they are incidental not to every cause, but to everydescription of cause. We have made mention of them in speaking of theconjectural statement of a case, but we shall use induction when thecause requires. 

XIX But when the pleading appears to require some translation, or toneed any alteration, either because he is not pleading who ought todo so, or he is not pleading with the man he ought, or before the menwhom he ought to have for hearers, or in accordance with the properlaw, or under liability to the proper punishment, or in reference tothe proper accusation, or at the proper time, it is then called atransferable statement of the case. We should require many examples ofthis if we were to inquire into every sort of translation, but becausethe principle on which the rules proceed is similar, we have no needof a superfluity of instances. And in our usual practice it happensfrom many causes that such translations occur but seldom. For manyactions are prevented by the exceptions allowed by the praetors, andwe have the civil law established in such a way that that man is sureto lose his cause who does not conduct it as he ought. So thatthose actions greatly depend on the state of the law. For there theexceptions are demanded, and an opportunity is allowed of conductingthe cause in some manner, and every formula of private actions isarranged. But in actual trials they occur less frequently, and yet, ifthey ever do occur at all, they are such that by themselves they haveless strength, but they are confirmed by the assumption of some otherstatement in addition to them. As in a certain trial which took place"When a certain person had been prosecuted for poisoning, and, becausehe was also accused of parricide, the trial was ordered to proceedout of its regular order, when in the accusation some charges werecorroborated by witnesses and arguments, but the parricide was barelymentioned, it was proper for the advocate for the defence to dwellmuch and long on this circumstance, as, nothing whatever was provedrespecting the death of the accused person's parent, and thereforethat it was a scandalous thing to inflict that punishment on him whichis inflicted on parricides, but that that must inevitably be the caseif he were convicted, since that it is added as one of the counts ofthe indictment, and since it is on that account that the trial hasbeen ordered to be taken out of its regular order. Therefore if it isnot right that that punishment should be inflicted on the criminal, itis also not right that he should be convicted, since that punishmentmust inevitably follow a conviction. " Here the advocate for thedefence, by bringing the commutation of the punishment into hisspeech, according to the transferable class of topics, will invalidatethe whole accusation. But he will also confirm the alteration by aconjectural statement of the case when employed in defending hisclient on the other charges. 

XX But we may give an example of translation in a cause, in thisway--When certain armed men had come for the purpose of committingviolence, and armed men were also prepared on the other side, and whenone of the armed men with his sword cut off the hand of a certainRoman knight who resisted his violence, the man whose hand had beencut off brings an action for the injury. The man against whom theaction is brought pleads a demurrer before the praetor, without therebeing any prejudice to a man on trial for his life. The man who bringsthe action demands a trial on the simple fact, the man against whomthe action is brought says that a demurrer ought to be added. Thequestion is--"Shall the demurrer be allowed or not?" The reasonis--"No, for it is not desirable in an action for damages that thereshould be any prejudged decision of a crime, such as is the subject ofinquiry when assassins are on their trial. " The arguments intended toinvalidate this reason are--"The injuries are such that it is a shamethat a decision should not be come to as early as possible. " Thething to be decided is--"Whether the atrocity of the injuries is asufficient reason why, while that point is before the tribunal, aprevious decision should be given concerning some greater crime, concerning which a tribunal is prepared. " And this is the example. Butin every cause the question ought to be put to both parties, by whom, and by whose agency, and how, and when it is desirable that the actionshould be brought, or the decision given; or what ought to be decidedconcerning that matter. 

That ought to be assumed from the divisions of the law, concerningwhich we must speak hereafter; and we then ought to argue as to whatis usually done in similar cases, and to consider whether, in thisinstance, out of wickedness, one course is really adopted and anotherpretended; or whether the tribunal has been appointed and the actionallowed to proceed through folly or necessity, because it could not bedone in any other manner, or owing to an opportunity which offered foracting in such a manner; or whether it has been done rightly withoutany interruption of any sort. But it is a common topic to urge againstthe man who seeks to avail himself of a demurrer to an action, thathe is fleeing from a decision and from punishment, because he hasno confidence in the justice of his cause. And that, owing to thedemurrer, everything will be in confusion, if matters are notconducted and brought into court as they ought to be; that is tosay, if it is either pleaded against a man it ought not, or with animproper penalty, or with an improper charge, or at an improper time;and this principle applies to any confusion of every sort of tribunal. Those three statements of cases then, which are not susceptible of anydecisions, must be treated in this manner. At present let us considerthe question and its divisions on general principles. 

XXI. When the fact and the name of the action in question is agreedupon, and when there is no dispute as to the character of the actionto be commenced; then the effect, and the nature, and the character ofthe business is inquired into. We have already said, that there appearto be two divisions of this; one which relates to facts and one whichrelates to law. It is like this: "A certain person made a minor hisheir, but the minor died before he had come into the property whichwas under the care of guardians. A dispute has arisen concerningthe inheritance which came to the minor, between those who are thereversionary heirs of the father of the minor, --the possession belongsto the reversionary heirs. " The first statement is that of the next ofkin--"That money, concerning which he, whose next of kin we are, saidnothing in his will, belongs to us. " The reply is--"No, it belongsto us who are the reversionary heirs according to the will of hisfather. " The thing to be inquired into is--To whom does it rightfullybelong? The argument is--"For the father made a will for himself andfor his son as long as the latter was a minor, wherefore it isquite clear that the things which belonged to the son are now ours, according to the will of the father. " The argument to upset thisis--"Aye, the father made his own will, and appointed you asreversionary heir, not to his son, but himself. Wherefore, nothingexcept what belonged to him himself can be yours by his will. " Thepoint to be determined is, whether any one can make a will to affectthe property of his son who is a minor, or, whether the reversionaryheirs of the father of the family himself, are not the heirs of hisson also as long as he is a minor. And it is not foreign to thesubject, (in order that I may not, on the one hand, omit to mentionit, or, on the other, keep continually repeating it, ) to mention athing here which has a bearing on many questions. There are causeswhich have many reasons, though the grounds of the cause are simple, and that is the case when what has been done, or what is beingdefended, may appear right or natural on many different accounts, asin this very cause. For this further reason may be suggested by theheirs--"For there cannot be more heirs than one of one property, forcauses quite dissimilar, nor has it ever happened, that one man washeir by will, and another by law, of the same property. " This, again, is what will be replied, in order to invalidate this--"It is not oneproperty only; because one part of it was the adventitious property ofthe minor, whose heir no one had been appointed by will at that time, in the case of anything happening to the minor, and with respect tothe other portion of the property, the inclination of the father, evenafter he was dead, had the greatest weight, and that, now that theminor is dead, gives the property to his own heirs. "

The question to be decided is, "Whether it was one property?" Andthen, if they employ this argument by way of invalidating the other, "That there can be many heirs of one property for quite dissimilarcauses, " the question to be decided arises out of that argument, namely "Whether there can be more heirs than one, of different classesand character, to one property?"

XXII Therefore, in one statement of the case, it has been understoodhow there are more reasons than one, more topics than one toinvalidate such reasons, and besides that, more questions than one forthe decision of the judge. Now let us look to the rules for this classof question. We must consider in what the rights of each party, or ofall the parties (if there are many parties to the suit), consist. Thebeginning, then, appears derived from nature; but some things seem tohave become adopted in practice for some consideration of expediencywhich is either more or less evident to us. But afterwards thingswhich were approved of, or which seemed useful, either through habit, or because of their truth, appeared to have been confirmed by laws, and some things seem to be a law of nature, which it is not anyvague opinion, but a sort of innate instinct that implants in us, as religion, piety, revenge for injuries, gratitude, attention tosuperiors, and truth. They call religion, that which is conversantwith the fear of, and ceremonious observance paid to the gods; theycall that piety, which warns us to fulfil our duties towards ourcountry, our parents, or others connected with us by ties of blood, gratitude is that which retains a recollection of honours and benefitsconferred on one, and acts of friendship done to one, and which showsitself by a requital of good offices, revenge for injuries is that bywhich we repel violence and insult from ourselves and from those whoought to be dear to us, by defending or avenging ourselves, and bymeans of which we punish offences, attention to superiors, they callthe feeling under the influence of which we feel reverence for and payrespect to those who excel us in wisdom or honour or in any dignity, truth, they style that habit by which we take care that nothing hasbeen or shall be done in any other manner than what we state. And thelaws of nature themselves are less inquired into in a controversy ofthis sort, because they have no particular connexion with the civillaw of which we are speaking and also, because they are somewhatremote from ordinary understandings. Still it is often desirable tointroduce them for the purpose of some comparison, or with a view toadd dignity to the discussion. 

But the laws of habit are considered to be those which without anywritten law, antiquity has sanctioned by the common consent of allmen. And with reference to this habit there are some laws which arenow quite fixed by their antiquity. Of which sort there are many otherlaws also, and among them far the greatest part of those laws whichthe praetors are in the habit of including in their edicts. But somekinds of law have already been established by certain custom, such asthose relating to covenants, equity, formal decisions. A covenantis that which is agreed upon between two parties, because it isconsidered to be so just that it is said to be enforced by justice, equity is that which is equal to all men, a formal decision is that bywhich something has been established by the declared opinion of someperson or persons authorized to pronounce one. As for regular laws, they can only be ascertained from the laws. It is desirable, then, bytrying over every part of the law, to take notice of and to extractfrom these portions of the law whatever shall appear to arise out ofthe case itself, or out of a similar one, or out of one of greater orless importance. But since, as has been already said, there are twokinds of common topics, one of which contains the amplification of adoubtful matter, and the other of a certain one, we must consider whatthe case itself suggests, and what can be and ought to be amplified bya common topic. For certain topics to suit every possible case cannotbe laid down, and perhaps in most of them it will be necessary attimes to rely on the authority of the lawyers, and at times to speakagainst it. But we must consider, in this case and in all cases, whether the case itself suggests any common topics besides those whichwe have mentioned. 

Now let us consider the juridical kind of inquiry and its differentdivisions. XXIII The juridical inquiry is that in which the nature ofjustice and injustice, and the principle of reward or punishment, isexamined. Its divisions are two, one of which we call the absoluteinquiry, and the other the one which is accessory. That is theabsolute inquiry which itself contains in itself the question of rightand not right, not as the inquiry about facts does, in an overhand andobscure manner, but openly and intelligibly. It is of this sort. --Whenthe Thebans had defeated the Lacedaemonians in war, as it was nearlyuniversal custom among the Greeks, when they were waging war againstone another, for those who were victorious to erect some trophyon their borders, for the sake only of declaring their victory atpresent, not that it might remain for ever as a memorial of the war, they erected a brazen trophy. They are accused before the Amphictyons, that is, before the common council of Greece. The charge is, "Theyought not to have done so. " The denial is, "We ought. " The questionis, "Whether they ought. " The reason is, "For we gained such gloryby our valour in that war, that we wished to leave an everlastingmemorial of it to posterity. " The argument adduced to invalidate thisis, "But still it is not right for Greeks to erect an eternal memorialof then enmity to Greeks. " The question to be decided is, "As for thesake of celebrating their own excessive valour Greeks have erected animperishable monument of their enmity to Greeks, whether they havedone well or ill?" We, therefore, have now put this reason in themouth of the Thebans, in order that this class of cause which weare now considering might be thoroughly understood. For if we hadfurnished them with that argument which is perhaps the one whichthey actually used, "We did so because our enemies warred against uswithout any considerations of justice and piety, " we should then bedigressing to the subject of retorting an accusation, of which we willspeak hereafter. But it is manifest that both kinds of question areincidental to this controversy. And arguments must be derived forit from the same topics as those which are applicable to the causedepending on matters of fact, which has been all ready treated of. But to take many weighty common topics both from the cause itself, ifthere is any opportunity for employing the language of indignation orcomplaint, and also from the advantage and general character of thelaw, will be not only allowable, but proper, if the dignity of thecause appears to require such expedients. 

XXIV. At present let us consider the assumptive portion of thejuridical inquiry. But it is then called assumptive, when the factcannot be proved by its own intrinsic evidence, but is defended bysome argument brought from extraneous circumstances. Its divisionsare four in number: comparison, the retort of the accusation, therefutation of it as far as regards oneself, and concession. 

Comparison is when any action which intrinsically cannot be approved, is defended by reference to that for the sake of which it was done. Itis something of this sort:--"A certain general, when he was blockadedby the enemy and could not escape by any possible means, made acovenant with them to leave behind his arms and his baggage, oncondition of being allowed to lead away his soldiers in safety. And hedid so. Having lost his arms and his baggage, he saved his men, beyondthe hopes of any one. He is prosecuted for treason. " Then comes thedefinition of treason. But let us consider the topic which we are atpresent discussing. 

The charge is, "He had no business to leave behind the arms andbaggage. " The denial is, "Yes, he had. " The question is, "Whether hehad any right to do so?" The reason for doing so is, "For else hewould have lost all his soldiers. " The argument brought to invalidatethis is either the conjectural one, "They would not have been lost, "or the other conjectural one, "That was not your reason for doing so. "And from this arise the questions for decision: "Whether they wouldhave been lost?" and, "Whether that was the reason why he did so?" Orelse, this comparative reason which we want at this minute: "But itwas better to lose his soldiers than to surrender the arms and baggageto the enemy. " And from this arises the question for the decision ofthe judges: "As all the soldiers must have been lost unless they hadcome into this covenant, whether it was better to lose the soldiers, or to agree to these conditions?"

It will be proper to deal with this kind of cause by reference tothese topics, and to employ the principles of, and rules for the otherstatements of cases also. And especially to employ conjectures for thepurpose of invalidating that which those who are accused will comparewith the act which is alleged against them as a crime. And that willbe done if either that result which the advocates for the defence saywould have happened unless that action had been performed which is nowbrought before the court, be denied to have been likely to ensue; orif it can be proved that it was done with a different object and in adifferent manner from that stated by the man who is on his trial. Theconfirmation of that statement, and also the argument used by theopposite party to invalidate it, must both be derived from theconjectural statement of the case. But if the accused person isbrought before the court, because of his action coming under the nameof some particular crime, (as is the case in this instance, for theman is prosecuted for treason), it will be desirable to employ adefinition and the rules for a definition. 

XXV. And this usually takes place in this kind of examination, so thatit is desirable to employ both conjecture and definition. But ifany other kind of inquiry arises, it will be allowable on similarprinciples to transfer to it the rules for that kind of inquiry. Forthe accuser must of all things take pains to invalidate, by as manyreasons as possible, the very fact on account of which the person onhis trial thinks that it is granted to him that he was right. And itis easy to do so, if he attempts to overturn that argument by as manystatements of the case as he can employ. 

But comparison itself, when separated from the other kinds ofdiscussion, will be considered according to its own intrinsic power, if that which is mentioned in the comparison is shown, either not tohave been honourable, or not to have been useful, or not to have beennecessary, or not so greatly useful, or not so very honourable, or notso exceedingly necessary. 

In the next place it is desirable for the accuser to separate theaction which he himself is accusing, from that which the advocate forthe defence compares with it. And he will do that if he shows that itis not usually done in such a manner, and that it ought not to be doneso, and that there is no reason why this thing should be done on thisaccount; for instance, that those things which have been provided forthe sake of safety, should be surrendered to the enemy for the sake ofsafety. Afterwards it will be desirable to compare the injury with thebenefit, and altogether to compare the action which is impeached withthat which is praised by the advocate for the defence or which isattempted to be proved as what must inevitably have ensued, and then, by disparaging the one at the same time to exaggerate the importanceof the mischief caused by the other. That will be effected if itbe shown that that which the person on his trial avoided was morehonourable, more advantageous, and more necessary than that whichhe did. But the influence and character of what is honourable, anduseful, and necessary, will be ascertained in the rules given fordeliberation. 

In the next place, it will be desirable to explain that comparativekind of judicial decision as if it were a deliberative cause andthen afterwards to discuss it by the light thrown on it by rules fordeliberation. For let this be the question for judicial decision whichwe have already mentioned--"As all the soldiers would have been lostif they had not come to this agreement, was it better for the soldiersto be lost, or to come to this agreement?" It will be desirable thatthis should be dealt with with reference to the topics concerningdeliberation, as if the matter were to come to some consultation. 

XXVI. But the advocate for the defence will take the topics inaccordance with which other statements of the case are made by theaccuser, and will prepare his own defence from those topics withreference to the same statements. But all other topics which belong tothe comparison, he will deal with in the contrary manner. 

The common topics will be these, --the accuser will press his chargesagainst the man who confesses some discreditable or pernicious action, or both, but still seeks to make some defence, and will allegethe mischievous or discreditable nature of his conduct with greatindignation. The advocate for the defence will insist upon it, that noaction ought to be considered pernicious or discreditable, or, on theother hand, advantageous or creditable, unless it is ascertained withwhat intention, at what time, and on what account it was done. Andthis topic is so common, that if it is well handled in this cause itis likely to be of great weight in convincing the hearers. And thereis another topic, by means of which the magnitude of the service doneis demonstrated with very great amplification, by reference to theusefulness, or honourableness, or necessity of the action. And thereis a third topic, by means of which the matter which is expressed inwords is placed before the eyes of those men who are the hearers, sothat they think that they themselves also would have done the samethings, if the same circumstances and the same cause for doing so hadhappened to them at the same time. 

The retorting of a charge takes place, when the accused person, having confessed that of which he is accused, says that he did itjustifiably, being induced by the sin committed against him by theother party. As in this case--"Horatius, when he had slain the threeCuriatii and lost his two brothers, returned home victorious. He sawhis sister not troubled about the death of her brothers, but at thesame time calling on the name of Curiatius, who had been betrothed toher, with groans and lamentation. Being indignant, he slew the maid". He is prosecuted. 

The charge is, "You slew your sister wrongfully". The refutation is "Islew her lawfully". The question is, "Whether he slew her lawfully". The reason is, "Yes, for she was lamenting the death of enemies, andwas indifferent to that of her brothers, she was grieved that I andthe Roman people were victorious". The argument to invalidate thisreason is, "Still she ought not to have been put to death by herbrother without being convicted". On this the question for thedecision of the judges is, "Whether when Horatia was showing herindifference to the death of her brothers, and lamenting that of theenemy, and not rejoicing at the victory of her brother and of theRoman people, she deserved to be put to death by her brother withoutbeing condemned". 

XXVII For this kind of cause, in the first place, whatever is givenout of the other statements of cases ought to be taken, as has beenalready enjoined when speaking of comparison. After that, if there isany opportunity of doing so, some statement of the case ought to beemployed by which he to whom the crime is imputed may be defended. Inthe next place, we ought to argue that the fault which the accusedperson is imputing to another, is a lighter one than that which hehimself committed; in the next place, we ought to employ some portionof a demurrer, and to show by whom, and through whose agency, andhow, and when that matter ought to have been tried, or adjudged, ordecided. And at the same time, we ought to show that it was not properthat punishment should have been inflicted before any judgment waspronounced. Then we must also point out the laws and the course ofjudicial proceeding by which that offence which the accused personpunished of his own accord, might have been chastised according toprecedent, and by the regular course of justice. In the next place, itwill be right to deny that it is proper to listen to the charge whichis brought by the accused person against his victim, when he whobrings it did not choose to submit it to the decision of the judges, and it may be urged that one ought to consider that on which nodecision has been pronounced, as if it had not been done, and afterthat to point out the impudence of those men who are now beforethe judges accusing the man whom they themselves condemned withoutconsulting the judges, and are now bringing him to trial on whom theyhave already inflicted punishment. After this we may say that it isbringing irregularity into the courts of justice, and that the judgeswill be advancing further than their power authorizes them, if theypronounce judgment at the same time in the case of the accused person, and of him whom the accused person impeaches. And in the next place, we may point out if this rule is established, and if men avenge oneoffence by another offence, and one injury by another injury, whatvast inconvenience will ensue from such conduct, and that if theperson who is now the prosecutor had chosen to do so too, there wouldhave been no need of this trial at all, and that if every one elsewere to do so, there would be an end of all courts of justice. 

After that it may be pointed out, that even if the maiden who is nowaccused by him of this crime had been convicted, he would not himselfhave had any right to inflict punishment on her, so that it is ashameful thing that the man who would have had no right to punish her, even if she had been convicted, should have punished her without herbeing even brought to trial at all. And then the accused person maybe called upon to produce the law which he says justifies his havingacted in such a manner. 

After that, as we have enjoined when speaking of comparison, that thatwhich is mentioned in comparison should be disparaged by the accuseras much as possible, so, too, in this kind of argument, it will beadvantageous to compare the fault of the party on whom the accusationis retorted with the crime of the accused person who justified hisaction as having been lawfully done. And after that it is necessary topoint out that that is not an action of such a sort, that on accountof it this other crime ought to have been committed. The last point, as in the case of comparison, is the assumption of a judicialdecision, and the dilating upon it in the way of amplification, inaccordance with the rules given respecting deliberation. 

XXVIII But the advocate for the defence will invalidate what is urgedby means of other statements from those topics which have already beengiven. But the demurrer itself he will prove first of all, by dwellingon the guilt and audacity of the man to whom he imputes the crime, andby bringing it before the eyes of the judges with as much indignationas possible if the case admits of it, and also with vehementcomplaint, and afterwards by proving that the accused person chastisedthe offence more lightly than the offender deserved, by comparing thepunishment inflicted with the injury done. In the next place, it willbe desirable to invalidate by opposite arguments those topics whichare handled by the prosecutor in such a way that they are capable ofbeing refuted and retorted, of which kind are the three last topicswhich I have mentioned. But that most vehement attack of theprosecutors, by which they attempt to prove that irregularity will beintroduced into all the courts of justice if power is given to any manof inflicting punishment on a person who has not been convicted, willhave its force much weakened, first of all, if the injury be shown tobe such as appears intolerable not only to a good man but absolutelyto any freeman, and in the next place to be so manifest that it couldnot have been denied even by the person who had done it, and moreover, of such a kind that the person who did chastise it was the personwho above all others was bound to chastise it. So that it was not soproper nor so honourable for that matter to be brought before a courtof justice as for it to be chastised in that manner in which, and bythat person by whom it was chastised, and lastly, that the case wasso notorious that there was no occasion whatever for a judicialinvestigation into it. And here it will be proper to show, byarguments and by other similar means, that there are very many thingsso atrocious and so notorious, that it is not only not necessary, butthat it is not even desirable to wait for the slow proceedings of ajudicial trial. 

There is a common topic for an accuser to employ against a person, who, when he cannot deny the fact of which he is accused, stillderives some hope from his attempt to show that irregularity will beintroduced into all courts of justice by such proceedings. And herethere will come in the demonstration of the usefulness of judicialproceedings, and the complaint of the misfortune of that person whohas been punished without being condemned; and the indignation tobe expressed against the audacity and cruelty of the man who hasinflicted the punishment. There is also a topic for the advocate forthe defence to employ, in complaining of the audacity of the personwhom he chastised; and in urging that the case ought to be judgedof, not by the name of the action itself, but with reference to theintention of the person who committed it, and the cause for which, andthe time at which it was committed. And in pointing out what greatmischief will ensue either from the injurious conduct, or thewickedness of some one, unless such excessive and undisguised audacitywere chastised by him whose reputation, or parents, or children, orsomething else which either necessarily is, or at least ought to bedear to every one, is affected, by such conduct. 

XXIX. The transference of an accusation takes place when theaccusation of that crime which is imputed to one by the opposite partyis transferred to some other person or circumstance. And that is donein two ways. For sometimes the motive itself is transferred, and sometimes the act. We may employ this as an instance of thetransference of the motive:--"The Rhodians sent some men asambassadors to Athens. The quaestors did not give the ambassadors themoney for their expenses which they ought to have given them. Theambassadors consequently did not go. They are impeached. " The chargebrought against them is, "They ought to have gone. " The denial is, "They ought not. " The question is, "Whether they ought. " The reasonalleged is, "Because the money for their expenses, which is usuallygiven to ambassadors from the public treasury, was not given to themby the quaestor. " The argument brought to invalidate that reason is, "Still you ought to have discharged the duty which was entrusted toyou by the public authority. " The question for the decision of thejudges is, "Whether, as the money which ought to have been suppliedfrom the public treasury was not furnished to those men who wereappointed ambassadors, they were nevertheless bound to discharge theduties of their embassy. " In this class of inquiry, as in all theother kinds, it will be desirable to see if anything can be assumed, either from a conjectural statement of the case, or from any otherkind of statement. And after that, many arguments can be brought tobear on this question, both from comparison, and from the transferenceof the guilt to other parties. 

But the prosecutor will, in the first place, if he can, defend the manthrough whose fault the accused person says that that action was done;and if he cannot, he will declare that the fault of the other partyhas nothing to do with this trial, but only the fault of this man whomhe himself is accusing. Afterwards he will say that it is proper forevery one to consider only what is his own duty; and that if the oneparty did wrong, that was no reason for the other doing wrong too. Andin the next place, that if the other man has committed a fault, heought to be accused separately as this man is, and that the accusationof the one is not to be mixed up with the defence of the other. 

But when the advocate for the defence has dealt with the otherarguments, if any arise out of other statements of the case, he willargue in this way with reference to the transference of the charge toother parties. In the first place, he will point out to whose faultit was owing that the thing happened; and in the next place, as ithappened in consequence of the fault of some one else, he will pointout that he either could not or ought not to have done what theprosecutor says he ought: that he could not, will be considered withreference to the particulars of expediency, in which the force ofnecessity is involved; that he ought not, with reference to thehonourableness of the proceeding. We will consider each part moreminutely when talking of the deliberative kind of argument. Thenhe will say, that everything was done by the accused person whichdepended on his own power; that less was done than ought to have been, was the consequence of the fault of another person. After that, in pointing out the criminality of that other person, it will berequisite to show how great the good will and zeal of the accusedperson himself was. And that must be established by proofs of thissort--by his diligence in all the rest of the affair, by his previousactions, or by his previous expressions. And it may be well to showthat it would have been advantageous to the man himself to have donethis, and disadvantageous not to have done it, and that to have doneit would have been more in accordance with the rest of his life, thanthe not having done it, which, was owing to the fault of the otherparty. 

XXX But if the criminality is not to be transferred to some particularperson, but to some circumstance, as in this very case--"If thequaestor had been dead, and on that account the money had not beengiven to the ambassadors, " then, as the accusation of the other party, and the denial of the fault is removed, it will be desirable to employthe other topics in a similar manner, and to assume whatever issuitable to one's purpose from the divisions of admitted facts. Butcommon topics are usually nearly the same to both parties, and then, after the previous topics are taken for granted, will suit either tothe greatest certainty. The accuser will use the topic of indignationat the fact, the defender, when the guilt belongs to another and doesnot attach to himself, will urge that he does not deserve to have anypunishment inflicted on him. 

But the removal of the criminality from oneself is effected when theaccused person declares, that what is attributed to him as a crimedid not affect him or his duty, and asserts that if there was anycriminality in it, it ought not to be attributed to him. That kind ofdispute is of this sort--"In the treaty which was formerly made withthe Samnites, a certain young man of noble birth held the pig whichwas to be sacrificed, by the command of the general. But when thetreaty was disavowed by the senate, and the general surrendered to theSamnites, one of the senators asserted that the man who held the pigought also to be given up. " The charge is, "He ought to be given up. "The denial is, "He ought not. " The question is, "Whether he ought ornot. " The reason is, "For it was no particular duty of mine, nor didit depend on my power, being as young as I was, and only a privateindividual, and while the general was present with the supremeauthority and command, to take care that the treaty was solemnisedwith all the regular formalities. " The argument to invalidate thisreason is, "But since you became an accomplice in a most infamoustreaty, sanctioned with the most formal solemnities of religion, youought to be surrendered. " The question for the judges to decide is"Whether, since a man who had no official authority was present, bythe command of the general, aiding and abetting in the adopting ofthe treaty, and in that important religious ceremony, he ought to besurrendered to the enemy or not. " This kind of question is so fardifferent from the previous one, because in that the accused personadmits that he ought to have done what the prosecutor says oughtto have been done, but he attributes the cause to some particularcircumstance or person, which was a hindrance to his own intention, without having recourse to any admission. For that has greater force, which will be understood presently. But in this case a man oughtnot to accuse the opposite party, nor to attempt to transfer thecriminality to another, but he ought to show that that has not andnever has had any reference whatever to himself, either in respectof power or duty. And in this kind of cause there is this newcircumstance, that the prosecutor often works up a fresh accusationout of the topics employed, to remove the guilt from the accusedperson. As for instance, --"If any one accuses a man who, while he waspraetor, summoned the people to take up arms for an expedition, ata time when the consuls were in the city. " For as in the previousinstance the accused person showed that the matter in question hadno connexion with his duty or his power, so in this case also, theprosecutor himself, by removing the action done from the duty andpower of the person who is put on his trial, confirms the accusationby this very argument. And in this case it will be proper for eachparty to examine, by means of all the divisions of honour andexpediency, by examples, and tokens, and by arguing what is the duty, or right, or power of each individual, and whether he had that right, and duty, and power which is the subject of the present discussion, ornot. But it will be desirable for common topics to be assumed from thecase itself, if there is any room in it for expressions of indignationor complaint. 

XXI. The admission of the fact takes place, when the accused persondoes not justify the fact itself, but demands to be pardoned for it. And the parts of this division of the case are two: purgation anddeprecation. Purgation is that by which (not the action, but) theintention of the person who is accused, is defended. That has threesubdivisions, --ignorance, accident, necessity. 

Ignorance is when the person who is accused declares that he did notknow something or other. As, "There was a law in a certain nationthat no one should sacrifice a calf to Diana. Some sailors, when in aterrible tempest they were being tossed about in the open sea, made avow that if they reached the harbour which they were in sight of, theywould sacrifice a calf to the god who presided over that place. Beingignorant of the law, when they landed, they sacrificed a calf. " Theyare prosecuted. The accusation is, "You sacrificed a calf to a god towhom it was unlawful to sacrifice a calf. " The denial consists in theadmission which has been already stated. The reason is, "I was notaware that it was unlawful. " The argument brought to invalidate thatreason is, "Nevertheless, since you have done what was not lawful, youare according to the law deserving of punishment. " The question forthe decision of the judge is, "Whether, as he did what he ought not tohave done, and was not aware that he ought not to have done so, he isworthy of punishment or not. "

But accident is introduced into the admission when it is proved thatsome power of fortune interfered with his intention; as in thiscase:--"There was a law among the Lacedaemonians, that if thecontractor failed to supply victims for a certain sacrifice, he shouldbe accounted guilty of a capital offence; and accordingly, the man whohad contracted to supply them, when the day of the sacrifice was athand, began to drive in cattle from the country into the city. Ithappened on a sudden that the river Eurotus, which flows by Lacedaemon, was raised by some violent storms, and became so great and furiousthat the victims could not by any possibility be conveyed across. Thecontractor, for the sake of showing his own willingness, placed allthe victims on the bank of the river, in order that every one onthe other side of the river might be able to see them. But though, everyone was aware that it was the unexpected rise of the riverwhich hindered him from giving effect to his zeal, still some peopleprosecuted him on the capital charge. " The charge was, "The victimswhich you were bound to furnish for the sacrifice were not furnished. "The reply was an admission of the fact. The reason alleged was, "Forthe river rose on a sudden, and on that account it was impossible toconvey them across. " The argument used to invalidate that reasonwas, "Nevertheless, since what the law enjoins was not done, you aredeserving of punishment. " The question for the decision of the judgeswas, "Whether, as in that respect the contractor did not comply withthe law, being prevented by the unexpected rise of the riverwhich hindered his giving effect to his zeal, he is deserving ofpunishment. "

XXXII. But the plea of necessity is introduced when the accused personis defended as having done what he is accused of having done underthe influence of compulsion. In this way:--"There is a law among theRhodians, that if any vessel with a beak is caught in their harbour, it shall be confiscated. There was a violent storm at sea; theviolence of the winds compelled a vessel, against the will of hercrew, to take refuge in the harbour of the Rhodians. On this thequaestor claims the vessel for the people. The captain of the shipdeclared that it was not just that it should be confiscated. " Thecharge is, "A ship with a beak was caught in the harbour. " The replyis an admission of the fact. The reason given is, "We were driveninto the harbour by violence and necessity. " The argument brought toinvalidate that reason is, "Nevertheless, according to the law thatship ought to become the property of the people. " The question for thedecision of the judge is, "Whether, as the law confiscates every shipwith a beak which is found in the harbour, and as this ship, in spiteof the endeavours of her crew, was driven into the harbour by theviolence of the tempest, it ought to be confiscated. "

We have collected these examples of these three kinds of cases intoone place, because a similar rule for the arguments required for theseprevails in all of them. For in all of them, in the first place, itis desirable, if the case itself affords any opportunity of doing so, that a conjecture should be introduced by the accuser, in order thatthat which it will be stated was not done intentionally, may bedemonstrated by some suspicious circumstances, to have been doneintentionally. In the next place, it will be well to introduce adefinition of necessity, or of accident, or of ignorance, and to addinstances to that definition, in which ignorance, or accident, ornecessity appear to have operated, and to distinguish between suchinstances and the allegations put forward by the accused person, (thatis to say, to show that there is no resemblance between them, ) becausethis was a lighter or an easier matter, or one which did not admit ofany one's being ignorant respecting it, or one which gave no room foraccident or necessity. After that it must be shown that it might havebeen avoided, and, that the accused person might have prevented it ifhe had done this thing, or that thing, or that he might have guardedagainst being forced to act in such a manner. And it is desirable toprove by definitions that this conduct of his ought not to be calledimprudence, or accident, or necessity, but indolence, indifference, orfatuity. 

And if any necessity alleged appears to have in it anythingdiscreditable, it will be desirable for the opponent, by a chain ofcommon topics, to prove that it would have been better to sufferanything, or even to die, rather than to submit to a necessity of thesort. And then, from these topics, which have been already discussedwhen we spoke of the question of fact, it will be desirable to inquireinto the nature of law and equity, and, as if we were dealing withan absolute juridical question, to consider this point by itselfseparately from all other points. And in this place, if there shouldbe an opportunity, it will be desirable to employ instances in whichthere can be no room for any similar excuse, and also to institute acomparison, showing that there would have been more reason to allow itin them, and by reference to the divisions of deliberation, it may beshown that it is admitted that that action which was committed by theadversary is confessed to have been discreditable and useless, thatit is a matter of great importance, and one likely to cause greatmischief, if such conduct is overlooked by those who have authority topunish it. 

XXXIII. But the advocate for the defence will be able to convert allthese arguments, and then to use them for his own purposes. Andhe will especially dwell on the defence of his intentions, and inexaggerating the importance of that which was an obstacle to hisintentions, and he will show that he could not have done more than hedid do, and he will urge that in all things the will of the doer oughtto be regarded, and that it is quite impossible that he should bejustly convicted of not being free from guilt, and that under his namethe common powerlessness of mankind is sought to be convicted. Then, too, he will say that nothing can be more scandalous than for a manwho is free from guilt, not also to be free from punishment. But thecommon topics for the prosecutor to employ are these, one resting onthe confession of the accused person, and the other pointing out whatgreat licence for the violation of the law will follow, if it is oncelaid down that the thing to be inquired into is not the action butthe cause of the action. The common topics for the advocate for thedefence to employ are, a complaint of that calamity which has takenplace by no fault of his, but in consequence of some overruling power, and a complaint also of the power of fortune and the powerlessstate of men, and an entreaty that the judges should consider hisintentions, and not the result. And in the employment of all thesetopics it will be desirable that there should be inserted a complaintof his own unhappy condition, and indignation at the cruelty of hisadversaries. 

And no one ought to marvel, if in these or other instances he seesa dispute concerning the letter of the law added to the rest of thediscussion. And we shall have hereafter to speak of this subjectseparately, because some kinds of causes will have to be considered bythemselves, and with reference to their own independent merits, and some connect with themselves some other kind of question also. Wherefore, when everything is cleared up, it will not be difficult totransfer to each cause whatever is suitable to that particular kind ofinquiry, as in all these instances of admission of the fact, there isinvolved that dispute as to the law, which is called the question asto the letter and spirit of the law. But as we were speaking of theadmission of the fact we gave rules for it. But in another place wewill discuss the letter and the spirit of the law. At present we willlimit our consideration to the other division of the admission of thefact. 

XXXIV. Deprecation is when it is not attempted to defend the actionin question, but entreaties to be pardoned are employed. This kind oftopic can hardly be approved of in a court of justice, because, whenthe offence is admitted, it is difficult to prevail on the man whois bound to be the chastiser of offences to pardon it. So that it isallowable to employ that kind of address only when you do not rest thewhole cause on it. As for instance, if you were speaking in behalf ofsome illustrious or gallant man, who has done great services tothe republic, you might, without appearing to have recourse todeprecation, still employ it in this manner:--"But if, O judges, thisman, in return for the services which he has done you, and the zealwhich he has displayed in your cause at all times, were now, when hehimself is in such peril, to entreat you, in consideration of his manygood actions, to pardon this one error, it would only be what is dueboth to your own character for clemency, and to his virtue, O judges, for you to grant him this indulgence at his request. " Then it will beallowable to dwell upon the services which he has done, and by theuse of some common topic to lead the judges to feel an inclination topardon him. 

Wherefore, although this kind of address has no proper place injudicial proceedings, except to a certain limited extent; still, because both the portion which is allowable must be employed at times, and because it is often to be employed in all its force in the senateor in the council, we will give rules for it also. For there was along deliberation in the senate and in the council about Syphax; andthere was a long discussion before Lucius Opimius and his bench ofassessors respecting Quintus Numitorius Pullus; and in this case theentreaty for pardon had more influence than the strict inquiry intothe case. For he did not find it so easy to prove that he had alwaysbeen well affected towards the Roman people, by employing thestatement of the case founded on conjecture, as to show that it wasreasonable to pardon him on account of his subsequent services, whenhe added the topics of deprecation to the rest of his defence. 

XXXV. It will be desirable, therefore, for the man who entreats to bepardoned for what he admits that he has done, to enumerate whateverservices of his he is able to, and, if possible, to show that they aregreater than those offences which he has committed, so that it mayappear that more good than evil has proceeded from him; and then toput forward also the services done by his ancestors, if there are anysuch; and also to show that he did what he did, not out of hatred, orout of cruelty, but either through folly, or owing to the instigationof some one, or for some other honourable or probable cause; and afterthat to promise and undertake that he has been taught by this error ofhis, and confirmed in his resolution also by the kindness of those whopardon him, to avoid all such conduct in future. And besides this, hemay hold out a hope that he will hereafter be able, in some respect orother, to be of great use to those who pardon him now; he will find itserviceable to point out that he is either related to the judges, or that he has been as far back as possible an hereditary friendof theirs; and to express to them the earnestness of his good-willtowards them, and the nobility of the blood and dignity of thosemen who are anxious for his safety. And all other qualities andcircumstances which, when attributable to persons, confer honour anddignity on them, he, using no complaint, and avoiding all arrogance, will point out as existing in himself, so that he may appear todeserve some honour rather than any kind of punishment; and after thatit will be wise of him to mention other men who have been pardoned forgreater offences. 

And he will do himself a great deal of good if he shows that hehimself, when in power, was merciful and inclined to pardon others. And the offence of which he is now accused must be extenuated andmade to appear as trifling as possible; and it must be shown to bediscreditable, or at all events inexpedient, to punish such a man ashe is. After that it will be advisable to seek to move pity by use ofcommon topics, according to those rules which have been laid down inthe first book. 

XXXVI. But the adversary will exaggerate the offences; he will saythat nothing was done ignorantly, but that everything was the resultof deliberate wickedness and cruelty. He will show that the accusedperson has been pitiless, arrogant, and (if he possibly can) at alltimes disaffected, and that he cannot by any possibility be renderedfriendly. If he mentions any services done by him, he will prove thatthey were done for some private object, and not out of any good will;or else he will prove that he has conceived hatred since or else thatall those services have been effaced by his frequent offences, or elsethat his services are of less importance than his injuries, or that, as he has already received adequate honours for his services, he oughtalso to have punishment inflicted on him for the injuries which he hascommitted. In the next place, he will urge that it is discreditable orpernicious that he should be pardoned. And besides that, it will bethe very extremity of folly not to avail oneself of one's power overa man, over whom one has often wished to have power, and that it isproper to consider what feelings, or rather what hatred they ought toentertain towards him. But one common topic to be employed will beindignation at his offence, and another will be the argument, that itis right to pity those who are in distress, owing to misfortune, andnot those who are in such a plight through their own wickedness. 

Since, then, we have been dwelling so long on the general statement ofthe case, on account of the great number of its divisions, in orderto prevent any one's mind from being so distracted by the varietyand dissimilarity of circumstances, and so led into some errors, it appears right also to remind the reader of what remains to bementioned of that division of the subject, and why it remains. We havesaid, that that was the juridical sort of examination in whichthe nature of right and wrong, and the principles of reward andpunishment, were investigated. We have explained the causes in whichinquiry into right and wrong is proceeded with. It remains now toexplain the principles which regulate the distribution of rewards andpunishments. 

XXXVII. For there are many causes which consist of a demand of somereward. For there is often question before the judges of the rewardsto be conferred on prosecutors, and very often some reward is claimedfor them from the senate, or from the bench of judges. And it is notadvisable that any one should think that, when we are adducing someinstance which is under discussion in the senate, we by so doing areabandoning the class of judicial examples. For whatever is saidwith reference to approving or disapproving of a person, when theconsideration of the opinions of the judges is adapted to that form ofexpression, that, even although it is treated with reference to thelanguage in which the opinion is couched, is a deliberative argument, still, because it has especial reference to some person, it is to beaccounted also judicial. And altogether, a man who has diligentlyinvestigated the meaning and nature of all causes will perceive thatthey differ both in character and in form; but in the other divisionshe will see them all consistent with each other, and every oneconnected with the other. At present, let us consider the question ofrewards. Lucius Licinius Crassus, the consul, pursued and destroyed aband of people in the province of the Nearer Gaul, who were collectedtogether under no known or regular leader, and who had no name ornumber of sufficient importance to be entitled enemies of the Romanpeople; but still they made the province unsafe by their constantsallies and piratical outbreaks. He returns to Rome. He demands atriumph. Here, as also in the case of the employment of deprecation, it does not at all concern us to supply reasons to establish and toinvalidate such a claim, and so to come before the judges; because, unless some other statement of the case is also put forth, or someportion of such statement, the matter for the decision of the judgeswill be a simple one, and will be contained in the question itself. Inthe case of the employment of deprecation, in this manner: "Whetherso and so ought to be punished. " In this instance, in such a manner:"Whether he ought to be rewarded. "

Now we will furnish some topics suitable for the investigation intothe principles of rewards. 

XXXVIII. The principle, then, on which rewards are conferred isdistributable into four divisions: as to the services done; the personwho has done them; the kind of reward which is to be conferred; andthe means of conferring it. The services done will be considered withreference to their own intrinsic merits, and to the time, and tothe disposition of the man who did them, and to their attendantcircumstances. They will be examined with reference to their ownintrinsic merits, in this manner:--Whether they are important orunimportant; whether they were difficult or easy; whether they areof a common or extraordinary nature; whether they are consideredhonourable on true or false principles. And with reference to the timeat which they were done:--If they were done at a time when we had needof them; when other men could or would not help them; if they weredone when all other hope had failed. With reference to the dispositionof the man who did them:--If he did not do them with a view to anyadvantage of his own, but if he did everything else for the expresspurpose of being able to do this afterwards. And with reference to theattendant circumstances:--If what was done appears not to have beendone by chance, but in consequence of some deliberate design, or ifchance appears to have hindered the design. 

But, with respect to the man who did the service in question, it willbe requisite to consider in what manner he has lived, and what expenseor labour he has devoted to that object; whether he has at any timedone any other similar action; whether he is claiming a rewardfor himself for what is in reality the result of another person'sexertions, or of the kindness of the gods. Whether he has ever, in thecase of any one else, pronounced that he ought not to be rewarded forsuch a reason; or, whether he has already had sufficient honour paidto him for what he has done; or, whether what has been done is anaction of such a sort that, if he had not done it, he would have beendeserving of punishment; but that he does not deserve reward forhaving done it; or, whether he is premature in his demand for areward, and is proposing to sell an uncertain hope for a certainreward; or, whether he claims the reward in order to avoid somepunishment, by its appearing as if the case had already been decidedin his favour. 

XXXIX. But as to the question of the reward, it will be necessary toconsider what reward, how great a reward is claimed, and why it isclaimed; and also, to what reward, and to how great a reward, theconduct in question is entitled. And in the next place, it will berequisite to inquire what men had such honours paid them in the timeof our ancestors, and for what causes those honours were paid. And, inthe next place, it will be urged that they ought not to be made toocommon. And this will be one common topic for any one who speaks inopposition to a person who claims a reward;--that rewards for virtueand eminent services ought to be considered serious and holy things, and that they ought not to be conferred on worthless men, or to bemade common by being bestowed on men of no particular eminence. Andanother will be, to urge that men will become less eager to practisevirtue when the reward of virtue has been made common; for thosethings which are scarce and difficult of attainment appear honourableand acceptable to men. And a third topic is, to put the question, whether, if there are any instances of men who, in the times of ourancestors, were thought worthy of such honours on account of theireminent virtue, they will not be likely to think it some diminutionof their own glory, when they see that such men as these have suchrewards conferred on them. And then comes the enumeration of thosemen, and the comparison of them with those against whom the orator isspeaking. But the topics to be used by the man who is claiming thereward are, first of all, the exaggeration of his own action; andnext, the comparison of the actions of those men who have had rewardsconferred on them with his own; and lastly, he will urge that othermen will be repelled from the pursuit of virtue if he himself isdenied the reward to which he is entitled. 

But the means of conferring the rewards are taken into considerationwhen any pecuniary reward is asked for; for then it is necessary toconsider whether there is an abundance of land, and revenue, andmoney, or a dearth of them. The common topics are, --that it isdesirable to increase the resources of the state, not to diminishthem; and that he is a shameless man who is not content with gratitudein requital of his services, but who demands also solid rewards. But, on the other hand, it may be urged, that it is a sordid thing toargue about money, when the question is about showing gratitude to abenefactor; and that the claimant is not asking wages for a piece ofwork, but honour such as is due for an important service. 

And we have now said enough about the statements of cases; now itseems necessary to speak of those controversies which turn upon theletter of the law. 

XL. The controversy turns upon the letter of the law when some doubtarises from the consideration of the exact terms in which it is drawnup. That arises from ambiguity, from the letter of the law, from itsintention, from contrary laws, from ratiocination, and definition. Buta controversy arises from ambiguity, when it is an obscure point whatwas the intention of the writer, because the written words mean two oreven more different things. In this manner:--"The father of a family, when he was making his son his heir, left a hundredweight of silverplate to his wife, in these terms:

"Let my heir give my wife a hundredweight of silver plate, consistingof such vessels as may be chosen. After he was dead, the motherdemands of her son some very magnificent vessels of very valuablecarving. He says that he is only bound to give her those vessels whichhe himself chooses. " Here, in the first place, it is necessary to showif possible that the will has not been drawn up in ambiguous terms, because all men in ordinary conversation are accustomed to employ thatexpression, whether consisting of one word or more, in that meaning inwhich the speaker hopes to show that this is to be understood. Thenit is desirable to prove that from both the preceding and subsequentlanguage of the will, the real meaning which is being sought maybe made evident. So that if all the words, or most of them, wereconsidered separately by themselves, they would appear of doubtfulmeaning. But as for those which can be made intelligible by aconsideration of the whole document, these have no business to bethought obscure. 

In the next place, it will be proper to draw one's conclusion as tothe intentions which were entertained by the writer from all his otherwritings, and actions, and sayings, and his general disposition, andfrom the usual tenor of his life; and to scrutinise that very documentin which this ambiguous phrase is contained which is the subject ofthe present inquiry, all over, in all its parts, so as to see whetherthere is anything opposite to that interpretation which we contendfor, or contrary to that which the adversary insists on adopting. Forit will be easy to consider what it is probable that the man who drewup the document intended, from its whole tenor, and from thecharacter of the writer, and from those other circumstances which arecharacteristic of the persons concerned. In the next place, it willbe desirable to show, if the facts of the case itself afford anyopportunity for doing so, that that meaning which the opposite partycontends for, is a much more inconvenient one to adopt than that whichwe have assumed to be the proper one, because there is no possiblemeans of carrying out or complying with that other meaning; but whatwe contend for can be accomplished with great ease and convenience. 

As in this law (for there is no objection to citing an imaginaryone for the sake of giving an instance, in order to the more easycomprehension of the matter):--"Let not a prostitute have a goldencrown. If such a case exists, it must be confiscated. " Now, inopposition to a man who contended that that was to become publicproperty in accordance with this law, it might be argued, "that therecould be no way of making a prostitute public property, and there isno intelligible meaning for the law if that is what is to be adoptedas its proper construction; but as to the confiscation of anythingmade of gold, the management and the result is easy, and there is nodifficulty in it. "

XLI. And it will be desirable also to pay diligent attention to thispoint, whether if that sense is sanctioned which the opposite partycontends for, any more advantageous, or honourable, or necessaryobject appears to have been omitted by the framer of the document inquestion. That will be done if we can prove that the object whichwe are attempting to prove is either honourable, or expedient, ornecessary; and if we can also assert that the interpretation which ouradversaries insist upon, is not at all entitled to such a character. In the next place, if there is in the law itself any controversyarising from any ambiguity, it will be requisite to take great care toshow that the meaning which our adversaries adopt is provided for insome other law. But it will be very serviceable indeed to point outhow the testator would have expressed himself, if he had wished theinterpretation which the adversary puts upon his words to be carriedinto execution or understood. As for instance, in this cause, the one, I mean, in which the question is about the silver plate, the womanmight argue, "That there was no use in adding the words 'as may bechosen, ' if the matter was left to the selection of the heir; for ifno such words had been inserted, there could have been no doubt at allthat the heir might have given whatever he himself chose. So that itwas downright madness, if he wished to take precautions in favour ofhis heir, to add words which might have been wholly left out withoutsuch omission prejudicing his heir's welfare. "

Wherefore, it will be exceedingly advisable to employ this species ofargument in such causes:--"If he had written with this intention hewould not have employed that word; he would not have placed that wordin that place;" for it is from such particulars as these that it iseasiest to collect the intention of the writer. In the next place, itis necessary to inquire when the document was drawn up, in order thatit may be understood what it was likely that he should have wishedat such a time. Afterwards it will be advisable to point out, byreference to the topics furnished by the deliberative argument, whatis more useful and what more honourable to the testator to write, andto the adversary to prove; and it will be well for both parties toemploy common topics, if there is any room for extending eitherargument. 

XLII. A controversy arises with respect to the letter of the documentand to its meaning, when one party employs the very words which areset down in the paper; and the other applies all his arguments to thatwhich he affirms that the framer of the document intended. But theintention of the framer of the document must be proved by the man whodefends himself, by reference to that intention, to have always thesame object in view and the same meaning; and it must also, eitherby reference to the action or to some result, be adapted to the timewhich the inquiry concerns. It must be proved always to have the sameobject in view, in this way:--"The head of a house, at a time when hehad no children, but had a wife, inserted this clause in his will: 'IfI have a son or sons born to me, he or they is or are to be my heiror heirs. ' Then follow the ordinary provisions. After that comes thefollowing clause: 'If my son dies before he comes into the property, which is held in trust for him, then, ' says the clause, 'you shall bemy reversionary heir. ' He never has a son. His next of kin raise adispute with the man who is named as the heir, in the case of thetestator's son dying before he comes into the property which hisguardians are holding for him. " In this case it cannot be said thatthe meaning of the testator ought to be made to suit the time or someparticular result, because that intention alone is proved on which theman who is arguing against the language of the will relies, in orderto defend his own right to the inheritance. 

There is another class of topics which introduce the question as tothe meaning of expressions, in which the mere simple intention of theframer is not endeavoured to be proved, for that has the same weightwith reference to every period and every action; but it is argued thatit ought to be interpreted with reference to some particular action, or to some event happening at that particular time. And that isespecially supported by the divisions of the juridical assumptive modeof investigation. For then the comparison is instituted; as in thecase of "a man who, though the law forbad the gates to be openedby night, did open them in a certain war, and admitted somereinforcements into the town, in order to prevent their beingoverwhelmed by the enemy if they remained outside the gates; becausethe enemy were encamped close to the walls. " Then comes the retortingof the charge; as in the case of "that soldier who, when the commonlaw of all men forbad any one to kill a man, slew his own militarytribune who was attempting to offer violence to him. " Then comesthe exculpation; as in the case of "that man who, when the law hadappointed some particular days within which he was to proceed on hisembassy, did not set out because the quaestor did not furnish him withmoney for his expenses. " Then comes the admission of the fact by wayof purgation, and also by the excuse of ignorance; as "in the case ofthe sacrificing a calf;" and with reference to compulsion, as "in thecase of the beaked ship;" and with reference to accident, as "in thecase of the sudden rise of the river Eurotas. " Wherefore, it is bestthat the meaning should be introduced in such a way, as that theframer of the law should be proved to have intended some one definitething; else in such a way that he should be proved to have meant thisparticular thing, under these circumstances, and at this time. 

XLIII. He, therefore, who is defending the exact language of the law, will generally be able to use all these topics; and will always beable to use the greater part of them. First of all, he will employ apanegyric of the framer of it, and the common topic that those whoare the judges have no business to consider anything except whatis expressly stated in the law; and so much the more if any legaldocument be brought forward, that is to say, either the law itself, or some portion of the law. Afterwards--and this is a point of thegreatest importance--he will employ a comparison of the action or ofthe charge brought by the opposite party with the actual words of thelaw; he will show what is contained in the law, what has been done, what the judge has sworn. And it will be well to vary this topic inmany ways, sometimes professing to wonder in his own mind what can besaid against this argument; sometimes recurring to the duty of thejudge, and asking of him what more he can think it requisite tohear, or what further he expects; sometimes by bringing forwardthe adversary himself, as if in the position of a person making anaccusation; that is to say, by asking him whether he denies that thelaw is drawn up in that manner, or whether he denies that he himselfhas contravened it, or disputed it. If he denies either of thesepoints, then one must avow that one will say no more; if he deniesneither of them, and yet continues to urge his arguments in oppositionto one, then one must say that it is impossible for any one ever toexpect to see a more impudent man. And it will be well to dwell onthis point as if nothing besides were to be said, as if nothing couldbe said in contradiction, by reciting several times over what iswritten; by often contrasting the conduct of the adversary with whatis written; and sometimes by recurring vehemently to the topic of thejudge himself; in which one will remind the judge of what oath he hastaken, of what his conduct is bound to be; and urge that there are twocauses on account of which a judge is bound to hesitate, one if thelaw be obscurely worded, the other if the adversary denies anything. But as in this instance the wording of the law is plain, and theadversary admits every fact that is alleged, the judge has now nothingto do but to fulfil the law, and not to interpret it. 

XLIV. When this point has been sufficiently insisted on, then it willbe advisable to do away with the effect of those things which theadversary has been able to urge by way of objection. But suchobjections will be made if the framer of the law can be absolutelyproved to have meant one thing, and written another; as in thatdispute concerning the will which we mentioned just now: or someadventitious cause may be alleged why it was not possible or notdesirable to obey the written law minutely. If it is stated that theframer of the law meant one thing, and wrote another, then he whoappeals to the letter of the law will say that it is our business notto discuss the intention of a man who has left us a plain proof ofthat intention, to prevent our having any doubt about it; and thatmany inconveniences must ensue if the principle is laid down that wemay depart from the letter of the law. For that then those who framelaws will not think that the laws which they are making will remainfirm; and those who are judges will have no certain principle tofollow if once they get into the habit of departing from the letter ofthe law. But if the intention of the framer of the law is what is tobe looked at, then it is he, and not his adversaries, who relies onthe meaning of the lawgiver. For that that person comes much nearer tothe intention of the framer of a law who interprets it from his ownwritings, than he who does not look at the meaning of the framer ofthe law by that writing of his own which he has left to be as it werean image of his meaning, but who investigates it under the guidance ofsome private suspicions of his own. 

If the party who stands on the meaning of the lawgiver brings forwardany reasons, then, in the first place, it will be necessary to replyto those reasons; to urge how absurd it is for a man not to deny thathe has acted contrary to the law, but at the same time to give somereason for having acted so. Then one will say too that all things areturned upside down; that formerly prosecutors were in the habit oftrying to persuade the judges that the person who was being prosecutedbefore them was implicated in some fault, and of alleging some reasonswhich had instigated him to commit this fault; but that now theaccused person himself is giving the reasons why he has offendedagainst the laws. Then it will be proper to introduce this division, each portion of which will have many lines of argument suitable to it:in the first place, that there is no law with reference to which itis allowable to allege any reasons contrary to the law; in the nextplace, that if such a course is admissible in any law, this is such alaw that it is not admissible with respect to it; and lastly, that, even if such reasons ever might be alleged, at all events this is notsuch a reason. 

XLV. The first part of the argument is confirmed by pretty nearly thesame topics as these: that the framer of the law was not deficient ineither ability, or pains, or any faculty requisite to enable him toexpress plainly what his intention was; that it would not have beeneither displeasing or difficult to him to insert such an exception asthat which the opposite party contends for in his law, if he thoughtany exception requisite; and in fact, that those people who framelaws often do insert clauses of exceptions. After that it is well toenumerate some of the laws which have exceptional clauses attached tothem, and to take especial care to see whether in the law itself whichis under discussion there is any exception made in any chapter, orwhether the same man who framed this law has made exceptions in otherlaws, so that it may be more naturally inferred that he would havemade exceptions in this one, if he had thought exceptions requisite;and it will be well also to show that to admit of a reason forviolating the law is the same thing as abrogating the law, becausewhen once such a reason is taken into consideration it is no use toconsider it with reference to the law, inasmuch as it is not stated inthe law. And if such a principle is once laid down, then a reason forviolating the law, and a licence to do so, is given to every one, assoon as they perceive that you as judges decide the matter in a waywhich depends on the ability of the man who has violated the law, andnot with reference to the law which you have sworn to administer. Then, too, one must point out that all principles on which judges areto judge, and citizens are to live, will be thrown into confusion ifthe laws are once departed from; for the judges will not have anyrules to follow, if they depart from what is set down in the law, andno principles on which they can reprove others for having acted indefiance of the law. And that all the rest of the citizens will beignorant what they are to do, if each of them regulates all hisactions according to his own ideas, and to whatever whim or fancycomes into his head, and not according to the common statute law ofthe state. 

After that it will be suitable to ask the judges why they occupythemselves at all with the business of other people;--why they allowthemselves to be harassed in discharging the offices of the republic, when they might often spend the time in promoting their own ends andprivate interests;--why they take an oath in a certain form;--why theyassemble at a regular time and go away at a regular time;--why noone of them ever alleges any reason for being less frequent in hisdischarge of his duty to the republic, except such as is set down insome formal law as an exception. And one may ask, whether they thinkit right that they should be bound down and exposed to so muchinconvenience by the laws, and at the same time allow our adversariesto disregard the laws. After that it will be natural to put thequestion to the judges whether, when the party accused himselfendeavours to set down in the law, as an exception, that particularcase in which he admits that he has violated the law, they willconsent to it. And to ask also, whether what he has actually done ismore scandalous and more shameless than the exception which he wishesto insert in the law;--what indeed can be more shameless? Even if thejudges were inclined to make such an addition to the law, would thepeople permit it? One might also press upon them that this is even amore scandalous measure, when they are unable to make an alteration inthe language and letter of the law, to alter it in the actual facts, and to give a decision contrary to it; and besides, that it is ascandalous thing that anything should be taken from the law, or thatthe law should be abrogated or changed in any part whatever, withoutthe people having any opportunity of knowing, or approving, ordisapproving of what is done; that such conduct is calculated to bringthe judges themselves into great odium; that it is not the proper timenor opportunity for amending the laws; that this ought only to bebrought forward in an assembly of the people, and only to be done bythe people; that if they now do so, the speaker would like to knowwho is the maker of the new law, and who are to obey it; that hesees actions impending, and wishes to prevent them; that as allsuch proceedings as these are exceedingly useless and abundantlydiscreditable, the law, whatever it is like, ought, while it exists, to be maintained by the judges, and hereafter, if it is disapprovedof, to be amended by the people. Besides this, if there were nowritten law, we should take great trouble to find one; and we shouldnot place any confidence in that man, not even if he were in nopersonal danger himself; but now, when there is a written law, it isdownright insanity to attend to what that man says who has violatedthe law, rather than to the language of the law itself. By these andsimilar arguments it is proved that it is not right to admit anyexcuse which is contrary to the letter of the law. 

XLVI. The second part is that in which it is desirable to prove thatif such a proceeding is right with respect to other laws, it is notadvisable with respect to this one. This will be shown if thelaw appears to refer to matters of the greatest importance, andusefulness, and honourableness, and sanctity; so that it isdisadvantageous, or discreditable, or impious not to obey the law ascarefully as possible in such a matter. Or the law may be proved tohave been drawn up so carefully, and such great diligence may be shownto have been exercised in framing each separate provision of it, andin making every exception that was allowable, that it is not at allprobable that anything proper to be inserted has been omitted in socarefully considered a document. 

The third topic is one exceedingly necessary for a man who is arguingin defence of the letter of the law; by which it may be urged, thateven if it is decent for an excuse to be admitted contrary tothe letter of the law, still that excuse which is alleged by hisadversaries is of all others the least proper to be so alleged. Andthis topic is necessary for him on this account, --because the man whois arguing against the letter of the law ought always to have somepoint of equity to allege on his side. For it is the greatest possibleimpudence for a man who wishes to establish some point in oppositionto the exact letter of the law, not to attempt to fortify himself inso doing, with the assistance of the law. If therefore the accuser inany respect weakens the defence by this topic, he will appear inevery respect to have more justice and probability in favour ofhis accusation. For all the former part of his speech has had thisobject, --that the judges should feel it impossible, even if theywished it, to avoid condemning the accused person; but this part hasfor its object the making them wish to give such a decision, even ifit were not inevitable. 

And that result will be obtained, if we use those topics by whichguilt may be proved not to be in the man who defends himself, by usingthe topic of comparison, or by getting rid of the accusation, or byrecrimination, or by some species of confession, (concerning all whichtopics we have already written with all the precision of which we werecapable, ) and if we take those which the case will admit of for thepurpose of throwing discredit on the argument of our adversary;--orif reasons and arguments are adduced to show why or with what designthose expressions were inserted in the law or will in question, sothat our side of the question may appear established by the meaningand intention of the writer, and not only by the language which he hasemployed. Or the fact may be proved by other statements and arguments. 

XLVII. But any one who speaks against the letter of the law will firstof all introduce that topic by which the equity of the excuse isproved; or he will point out with what feelings, with what design, andon what account he did the action in question. And whatever excuse healleges he will defend according to some of the rules which I havealready given with respect to assumptions. And when he has dwelt onthis topic for some time, and set forth the principles of his conductand the equity of his cause in the most specious manner he can, hewill also add, in opposition to the arguments of his adversaries, that it is from these topics for the most part that excuses which areadmissible ought to be drawn. He will urge that there is no law whichsanctions the doing of any disadvantageous or unjust action; that allpunishments which are enacted by the laws have been enacted for thesake of chastising guilt and wickedness; that the very framer of thelaws, if he were alive, would approve of this conduct, and wouldhave done the very same thing himself if he had been in similarcircumstances. And that it is on this account that the framer of thelaw appointed judges of a certain rank and age, in order that theremight be men, not capable merely of reading out what he had written, which any boy might do, but able also to understand his thoughts andto interpret his intentions. He will add, that that framer of the law, if he had been intrusting the laws which he was drawing up to foolishmen and illiterate judges, would have set down everything with themost scrupulous diligence; but, as it is, because he was aware whatsort of men were to be the judges, he did not put down many thingswhich appeared to him to be evident; and he expected that you would benot mere readers of his writings, but interpreters of his intentions. Afterwards he will proceed to ask his adversaries--"What would yousay if I had done so and so?" "What would you think if so and so hadhappened?" "Suppose any one of those things had happened which wouldhave had a most unfailing excuse, or a most undeniable necessity, would you then have prosecuted me?" But the law has nowhere made anysuch exception. It follows, therefore, that it is not every possiblecircumstance which is mentioned in the written law but that somethings which are self-evident are guarded against by unexpressedexceptions. Then he will urge, that nothing could be carried onproperly either by the laws or by any written document whatever, oreven in daily conversation, or in the commands given in a privatehousehold, if every one chose to keep his eyes on the exact languageof the order, and not to take into consideration the intentions of himwho uttered the order. 

XLVIII. After that he will be able, by reference to the divisionsof usefulness and honour, to point out how inexpedient or howdishonourable that would have been which the opposite party say oughtto have been done, or to be done now. And on the other hand, howexpedient and how honourable that is which we have done, or demandshould be done. In the next place, he will urge that we set a value onour laws not on account of their wording, which is a slight andoften obscure indication of their intention, but on account of theusefulness of those things concerning which they are written, and thewisdom and diligence of those men who wrote them. Afterwards he willproceed to describe what the law is, so that it shall appear toconsist of meanings, not of words; and that the judge may appear to beobedient to the law, who follows its meaning and not its strict words. After that he will urge how scandalous it is that he should have thesame punishment inflicted on him who has violated the law out of somemere wickedness and audacity, as on the man who, on account of somehonourable or unavoidable reason, has departed not from the spirit ofthe law, but from its letter. And by these and similar argumentshe will endeavour to prove that the excuse is admissible, and isadmissible in this law, and that the excuse which he himself isalleging ought to be admitted. 

And, as we said that this would be exceedingly useful to the man whowas relying on the letter of the law, to detract in some degree fromthat equity which appeared to be on the side of the adversary; so alsoit will be of the greatest advantage to the man who is speaking inopposition to the letter of the law, to convert something of the exactletter of the law to his own side of the argument, or else to showthat something has been expressed ambiguously. And afterwards, totake that portion of the doubtful expression which may serve his ownpurpose, and defend it; or else to introduce some definition ofa word, and to bring over the meaning of that word which seemsunfavourable to him to the advantage of his own cause, or else, fromwhat is set down in the law to introduce something which is not setdown by means of ratiocination, which we will speak of presently. Butin whatever matter, however little probable it may be, he defendshimself by an appeal to the exact letter of the law, even when hiscase is full of equity, he will unavoidably gain a great advantage, because if he can withdraw from the cause of the opposite party thatpoint on which it principally relies, he will mitigate and take offthe effect of all its violence and energy. But all the rest of thecommon topics taken from the divisions of assumptive argument willsuit each side of the question. It will also be suitable for him whoseargument takes its stand on the letter of the law, to urge that lawsought to be looked at, not with reference to the advantage of that manwho has violated them, but according to their own intrinsic value, andthat nothing ought to be considered more precious than the laws. Onthe other side, the speaker will urge, that laws depend upon theintention of the framer of them, and upon the general advantage, not upon words, and also, how scandalous it is for equity to beoverwhelmed by a heap of letters, and defended in vain by theintention of the man who drew up the law. 

XLIX. But from contrary laws a controversy arises, when two or morelaws appear to be at variance with one another In this manner--Thereis a law, "That he who has slain a tyrant shall receive the regard ofmen who conquer at Olympia, and shall also ask whatever he pleases ofthe magistrate, and the magistrate shall grant it to him. " There isalso another law--"When a tyrant is slain, the magistrate shall alsoput to death his five nearest relations. " Alexander, who was the tyrantof Pherse, a city in Thessaly, was slain by his own wife, whose namewas Thebe, at night, when he was in bed with her, she, as a reward, demands the liberty of her son whom she had by the tyrant. Some saythat according to this law that son ought to be put to death. Thematter is referred to a court of justice. Now in a case of thiskind the same topics and the same rules will suit each side of thequestion, because each party is bound to establish his own law, andto invalidate the one contrary to it. First of all, therefore, it isrequisite to show the nature of the laws, by considering which law hasreference to more important, that is to say, to more honourable andmore necessary matters. From which it results, that if two or more, or ever so many laws cannot all be maintained, because they are atvariance with one another, that one ought to be considered the mostdesirable to be maintained, which appears to have reference to themost important matters. Then comes the question also, which law waspassed last; for the newest law is the most important. And also, whichlaw enjoins anything, and which merely allows it; for that which isenjoined is necessary, that which is allowed is optional. Also onemust consider by which law a penalty is appointed for the violationof it; or which has the heaviest penalty attached to it; for that lawmust be the most carefully maintained which is sanctioned by the mostsevere penalties. Again, one must inquire which law enjoins, and whichforbids anything; for it often happens that the law which forbidssomething appears by some exception as it were to amend the law whichcommands something. Then, too, it is right to consider which lawcomprehends the entire class of subjects to which it refers, and whichembraces only a part of the question; which may be applied generallyto many classes of questions, and which appears to have been framed toapply to some special subject. For that which has been drawn up withreference to some particular division of a subject, or for somespecial purpose, appears to come nearer to the subject underdiscussion, and to have more immediate connexion with the presentaction. Then arises the question, which is the thing which accordingto the law must be done immediately; which will admit of some delay orslackness in the execution. For it is right that that should be donefirst which must be done immediately. In the next place, it is well totake pains that the law one is advocating shall appear to depend onits own precise language; and that the law with a contrary senseshould appear to be introduced with a doubtful interpretation, or bysome ratiocination or definition, in order that that law which isexpressed in plain language may appear to be the more solemn andefficient. After that it will be well to add the meaning of the lawwhich is on one's own side according to the strict letter of it; andalso to explain the opposite law so as to make it appear to haveanother meaning, in order that, if possible, they may not seem to beinconsistent with one another. And, last of all, it will be a goodthing, if the cause shall afford any opportunity for so doing, to takecare that on our principles both the laws may seem to be upheld, butthat on the principle contended for by our adversaries one of themmust be put aside. It will be well also to consider all the commontopics and those which the cause itself furnishes, and to take themfrom the most highly esteemed divisions of the subjects of expediencyand honour, showing by means of amplification which law it is mostdesirable to adhere to. 

L. From ratiocination there arises a controversy when, from whatis written somewhere or other, one arrives at what is not writtenanywhere; in this way:--"If a man is mad, let those of his family andhis next of kin have the regulation of himself and of his property. "And there is another law--"In whatever manner a head of a family hasmade his will respecting his family and his property, so let it be. "And another law--"If a head of a family dies intestate, his familyand property shall belong to his relations and to his next of kin. " Acertain man was convicted of having murdered his father. Immediately, because he was not able to escape, wooden shoes were put upon hisfeet, and his mouth was covered with a leathern bag, and bound fast, then he was led away to prison, that he might remain there while a bagwas got ready for him to be put into and thrown into a river. Inthe meantime some of his friends bring tablets to the prison, andintroduce witnesses also; they put down those men as his heirs whom hehimself desires; the will is sealed; the man is afterwards executed. There is a dispute between those who are set down as his heirs in thewill, and his next of kin, about his inheritance. In this instancethere is no positive law alleged which takes away the power of makinga will from people who are in such a situation. But from other laws, both those which inflict a punishment of this character on a manguilty of such a crime, and those, too, which relate to a man's powerof making a will, it is possible to come by means of ratiocination toa conclusion of this sort, that it is proper to inquire whether he hadthe power of making a will. 

But we think that these and such as these are the common topicssuitable to an argument of this description. In the first place, apanegyric upon, and a confirmation of that writing which you areproducing. Then a comparison of the matter which is the subject ofdiscussion, with that which is a settled case, in such a manner thatthe case which is under investigation may appear to resemble thatabout which there are settled and notorious rules. After that, onewill express admiration, (by way of comparison), how it can happenthat a man who admits that this is fair, can deny that other thing, which is either more equitable still, or which rests on exactlysimilar principles; then, too, one will contend that the reason whythere is no precise law drawn up for such a case, is because, as therewas one in existence applicable to the other case, the framer of thatlaw thought that no one could possibly entertain a doubt in this case;and afterwards it will be well to urge that there are many cases notprovided for in many laws, which beyond all question were passed overmerely because the rule as to them could be so easily collected outof the other cases which were provided for; and last of all, it isnecessary to point out what the equity of the case requires, as isdone in a plain judicial case. 

But the speaker who is arguing on the other side is bound to try andinvalidate the comparison instituted, which he will do if he can showthat that which is compared is different from that with which it iscompared in kind, in nature, in effect, in importance, in time, insituation, in character, in the opinion entertained of it; if it isshown also in what class that which is adduced by way of comparisonought to stand, and in what rank that also ought to be considered, forthe sake of which the other thing is mentioned. After that, it will bewell to point out how one case differs from the other, so that it doesnot seem that any one ought to have the same opinion of both of them. And if he himself also is able to have recourse to ratiocination, hemust use the same ratiocination which has been already spoken of. Ifhe cannot, then he will declare that it is not proper to consideranything except what is written; that all laws are put in danger ifcomparisons are once allowed to be instituted; that there is hardlyanything which does not seem somewhat like something else; that whenthere are many circumstances wholly dissimilar, still there areseparate laws for each individual case; and that all things can beproved to be like or unlike to each other. The common topics derivedfrom ratiocination ought to arrive by conjecture from that which iswritten to that which is not written; and one may urge that no one canembrace every imaginable case in a written law, but that he frames alaw best who takes care to make one thing understood from another. Onemay urge, too, that in opposition to a ratiocination of this sort, conjecture is no better than a divination, and that it would be asign of a very stupid framer of laws not to be able to provide foreverything which he wished to. 

LI. Definition is when a word is set down in a written document, whoseexact meaning is inquired into, in this manner:--There is a law, "Whoever in a severe tempest desert their ship shall be deprived ofall their property; the ship and the cargo shall belong to those menwho remain by the ship. " Two men, when they were sailing on the opensea, and when the ship belonged to one of them and the cargo toanother, noticed a shipwrecked man swimming and holding out his handsto them. Being moved with pity they directed the ship towards him, andtook the man into their vessel. A little afterwards the storm began totoss them also about very violently, to such a degree that the ownerof the ship, who was also the pilot, got into a little boat, and fromthat he guided the ship as well as he could by the rope by which theboat was fastened to the ship, and so towed along; but the man to whomthe cargo belonged threw himself on his sword in despair. On thisthe shipwrecked man took the helm and assisted the ship as far as hecould. But after the waves went down and the tempest abated, the shiparrived in harbour. But the man who had fallen on his sword turned outto be but slightly wounded, and easily recovered of his wound. Andthen every one of these three men claimed the ship and cargo for hisown. Every one of them relies on the letter of the law to supporttheir claim, and a dispute arises as to the meaning of the words. For they seek to ascertain by definitions what is the meaning of theexpressions "to abandon the ship, " "to stand by the ship, " and evenwhat "the ship" itself is. And the question must be dealt with withreference to all the same topics as are employed in a statement of thecase which turns upon a definition. 

Now, having explained all those argumentations which are adapted tothe judicial class of causes, we will proceed in regular order togive topics and rules for the deliberative and demonstrative classof arguments; not that there is any cause which is not at all timesconversant with some statement of the case or other; but because thereare nevertheless some topics peculiar to these causes, not separatedfrom the statement of the case, but adapted to the objects which aremore especially kept in view by these kinds of argumentation. 

For it seems desirable that in the judicial kind the proper endis equity; that is to say, some division of honesty. But in thedeliberative kind Aristotle thinks that the proper object isexpediency; we ourselves, that it is expediency and honesty combined. In the demonstrative kind it is honesty only. Wherefore, in this kindof cause also, some kinds of argumentation will be handled in a commonmanner, and in similar ways to one another. Some will be discussedmore separately with reference to their object, which is what we mustalways keep in view in every kind of speech. And we should have noobjection to give an example of each kind of statement of the case, ifwe did not see that, as obscure things are made more plain by speakingof them, so also things which are plain are sometimes made moreobscure by a speech. At present let us go on to precepts ofdeliberation. 

LII. Of matters to be aimed at there are three classes; and on theother hand there is a corresponding number of things to be avoided. For there is something which of its own intrinsic force draws us toitself, not catching us by any idea of emolument, but alluring us byits own dignity. Of this class are virtue, science, truth. And thereis something else which seems desirable, not on account of its ownexcellence or nature, but on account of its advantage and of theutility to be derived from it--such as money. There are also somethings formed of parts of these others in combination, which allure usand draw us after them by their own intrinsic character and dignity, and which also hold out some prospect of advantage to us, to induceus to seek it more eagerly, as friendship, and a fair reputation;and from these their opposites will easily be perceived, without oursaying anything about them. 

But in order that the principle may be explained in the more simpleway, the rules which we have laid down shall be enumerated briefly. For those which belong to the first kind of discussion are calledhonourable things; those which belong to the second, are called usefulthings; but this third thing, because it contains some portion of whatis honourable, and because the power of what is honourable is the moreimportant part, is perceived to be altogether a compound kind, made upof a twofold division; still it derives its name from its better part, and is called honourable. From this it follows, that there are theseparts in things which are desirable, --what is honourable, and what isuseful. And these parts in things which are to be avoided, --what isdishonourable, and what is useless. Now to these two things thereare two other important circumstances to be added, --necessity andaffection: the one of which is considered with reference to force, theother with reference to circumstances and persons. Hereafter we willwrite more explicitly about each separately. At present we willexplain first the principles of what is honourable. 

LIII. That which either wholly or in some considerable portion of itis sought for its own sake, we call honourable: and as there are twodivisions of it, one of which is simple and the other twofold, let usconsider the simple one first. In that kind, then, virtue has embracedall things under one meaning and one name; for virtue is a habitof the mind, consistent with nature, and moderation, and reason. Wherefore, when we have become acquainted with all its divisions, itwill be proper to consider the whole force of simple honesty. 

It has then four divisions--prudence, justice, fortitude, andtemperance. Prudence is the knowledge of things which are good, orbad, or neither good nor bad. Its parts are memory, intelligence, and foresight. Memory is that faculty by which the mind recovers theknowledge of things which have been. Intelligence is that by which itperceives what exists at present. Foresight is that by which anythingis seen to be about to happen, before it does happen. Justice is ahabit of the mind which attributes its proper dignity to everything, preserving a due regard to the general welfare. Its first principlesproceed from nature. Subsequently some practices became established byuniversal custom, from a consideration of their utility; afterwardsthe fear of the laws and religion sanctioned proceedings whichoriginated in nature, and had been approved of by custom. 

Natural law is that which has not had its origin in the opinions ofmen, but has been implanted by some innate instinct, like religion, affection, gratitude, revenge, attention to one's superiors, truth. Religion is that which causes men to pay attention to, and to respectwith fixed ceremonies, a certain superior nature which men calldivine nature. Affection is that feeling under the influence of whichkindness and careful attention is paid to those who are united to usby ties of blood, or who are devoted to the service of their country. Gratitude is that feeling in which the recollection of friendship, and of the services which we have received from another, and theinclination to requite those services, is contained. Revenge is thatdisposition by which violence and injury, and altogether everythingwhich can be any injury to us, is repelled by defending oneself fromit, or by avenging it. Attention is that feeling by which men obeywhen they think those who are eminent for worth or dignity, worthy ofsome special respect and honour. Truth is that by which those thingswhich are, or which have been previously, or which are about tohappen, are spoken of without any alteration. 

LIV. Conventional law is a principle which has either derived itsorigin in a slight degree from nature, and then has been strengthenedby habit, like religion; or, if we see any one of those things whichwe have already mentioned as proceeding from nature strengthened byhabit; or, if there is anything to which antiquity has given theforce of custom with the approbation of everybody: such as covenants, equity, cases already decided. A covenant is that which is agreed uponbetween two parties; equity is that which is equally just for everyone; a case previously decided is one which has been settled by theauthoritative decision of some person or persons entitled to pronounceit. 

Legal right is that which is contained in that written form which isdelivered to the people to be observed by them. 

Fortitude is a deliberate encountering of danger and enduring oflabour. Its parts are magnificence, confidence, patience, andperseverance. Magnificence is the consideration and management ofimportant and sublime matters with a certain wide-seeing and splendiddetermination of mind. Confidence is that feeling by which the mindembarks in great and honourable courses with a sure hope and trust initself. Patience is a voluntary and sustained endurance, for thesake of what is honourable or advantageous, of difficult and painfullabours. Perseverance is a steady and lasting persistence in awell-considered principle. 

Temperance is the form and well-regulated dominion of reason over lustand other improper affections of the mind. Its parts are continence, clemency, and modesty. Continence is that by which cupidity is keptdown under the superior influence of wisdom. Clemency is that by whichthe violence of the mind, when causelessly excited to entertain hatredagainst some one else, is restrained by courtesy. Modesty is thatfeeling by which honourable shame acquires a valuable and lastingauthority. And all these things are to be sought for themselves, evenif no advantage is to be acquired by them. And it neither concerns ourpresent purpose to prove this, nor is it agreeable to our object ofbeing concise in laying down our rules. 

But the things which are to be avoided for their own sake, are notthose only which are the opposites to these; as indolence is tocourage, and injustice to justice; but those also which appear tobe near to and related to them, but which, in reality, are very farremoved from them. As, for instance, diffidence is the opposite toconfidence, and is therefore a vice; audacity is not the opposite ofconfidence, but is near it and akin to it, and, nevertheless, is alsoa vice. And in this manner there will be found a vice akin to everyvirtue, and either already known by some particular name--as audacity, which is akin to confidence; pertinacity, which is bordering onperseverance; superstition, which is very near religion, --or insome cases it has no fixed name. And all these things, as being theopposites of what is good, we class among things to be avoided. Andenough has now been said respecting that class of honourable thingswhich is sought in every part of it for itself alone. 

LV. At present it appears desirable to speak of that in whichadvantage is combined with honour, and which still we style simplyhonourable. There are many things, then, which allure us both by theirdignity and also by the advantage which may be derived from them:such as glory, dignity, influence, friendship. Glory is the fact ofa person's being repeatedly spoken of to his praise; dignity is thehonourable authority of a person, combined with attention and honourand worthy respect paid to him. Influence is a great abundance ofpower or majesty, or of any sort of resource. Friendship is a desireto do service to any one for the sake of the person himself to whomone is attached, combined with a corresponding inclination on his parttowards oneself. At present, because we are speaking of civil causes, we add the consideration of advantage to friendship, so that itappears a thing to be sought for the sake of the advantage also:wishing to prevent those men from blaming us who think that we areincluding every kind of friendship in our definition. 

But although there are some people who think that friendship is onlyto be desired on account of the advantage to be derived from it; somethink it is to be desired for itself alone; and some, that it is to bedesired both for its own sake and for the sake of the advantage to bederived from it. And which of these statements is the most true, therewill be another time for considering. At present it may be laid down, as far as the orator is concerned, that friendship is a thing to bedesired on both accounts. But the consideration of the differentkinds of friendship, (since they are partly formed on religiousconsiderations, and partly not; and because some friendships are old, and some new; and because some originated in kindness shown by ourfriends to us, and some in kindness shown by ourselves to them; andbecause some are more advantageous, and others less, ) must havereference partly to the dignity of the causes in which it originates, partly to the occasion when it arises, and also to the services done, the religious motives entertained, and its antiquity. 

LVI. But the advantages consist either in the thing itself, or inextraneous circumstances; of which, however, by far the greaterportion is referable to personal advantage; as there are somethings in the republic which, so to say, refer to the person of thestate, --as lands, harbours, money, fleets, sailors, soldiery, allies;by all which things states preserve their safety and their liberty. There are other things also which make a thing more noble looking, and which still are less necessary; as the splendid decorating andenlarging of a city, or an extraordinary amount of wealth, or a greatnumber of friendships and alliances. And the effect of all thesethings is not merely to make states safe and free from injury, butalso noble and powerful. So that there appears to be two divisions ofusefulness, --safety and power. Safety is the secure and unimpairedpreservation of a sound state. Power is a possession of thingssuitable to preserving what is one's own, and to acquiring whatbelongs to another. And in all those things which have been alreadymentioned, it is proper to consider what is difficult to be done, andwhat can be done with ease. We call that a thing easy to be done, which can be done without great labour, or expense, or annoyance, orperhaps without any labour, expense, or annoyance at all, and in theshortest possible time. But that we call difficult to be done which, although it requires labour, expense, trouble and time, and has everypossible characteristic of difficulty about it, or, at all events, themost numerous and most important ones, still, when these difficultiesare encountered, can be completed and brought to an end. 

Since, then, we have now discussed what is honourable and what isuseful, it remains for us to say a little of those things which wehave said are attached to these other things; namely, affection andnecessity. 

LVII. I think, then, that necessity means that which cannot beresisted by any power; that which cannot be softened nor altered. Andthat this may be made more plain, let us examine into the meaning ofit by the light of examples, so as to see what its character and howgreat its power is. "It is necessary that anything made of wood mustbe capable of being burnt with fire. It is necessary that a mortalbody should at some time or other die. " And it is so necessary, thatthat power of necessity which we were just now describing requires it;which cannot by any force whatever be either resisted, or weakened, or altered. Necessities of this kind, when they occur in oratory, areproperly called necessities; but if any difficult circumstances arise, then we shall consider in the previous examination whether it, thething in question, be possible to be done. And it seems to me, thatI perceive that there are some kinds of necessity which admit ofadditions, and some which are simple and perfect in themselves. Forwe say in very different senses:--"It is necessary for the people ofCasilinum to surrender themselves to Hannibal;" and, "It is necessarythat Casilinum should come into the power of Hannibal. " In the onecase, that is, in the first case, there is this addition to theproposition:--"Unless they prefer perishing by hunger. " For if theyprefer that, then it is not necessary for them to surrender. But inthe latter proposition such an addition has no place; because whetherthe people of Casilinum choose to surrender, or prefer enduring hungerand perishing in that manner, still it is necessary that Casilinummust come into the power of Hannibal. What then can be effected bythis division of necessity? I might almost say, a great deal, when thetopic of necessity appears such as may be easily introduced. For whenthe necessity is a simple one, there will be no reason for our makinglong speeches, as we shall not be able by any means to weaken it; butwhen a thing is only necessary provided we wish to avoid or to obtainsomething, then it will be necessary to state what advantage or whathonour is contained in that addition. For if you will take notice, while inquiring what this contributes to the advantage of the state, you will find that there is nothing which it is necessary to do, except for the sake of some cause which we call the adjunct. And, in like manner, you will find that there are many circumstances ofnecessity to which a similar addition cannot be made; of such sortare these:--"It is necessary that mortal men should die;" withoutany addition:--"It is not necessary for men to take food;" with thisexception, --"Unless they have an objection to dying of hunger. "

Therefore, as I said before, it will be always proper to take intoconsideration the character of that exception which is added to theoriginal proposition. For it will at all times have this influence, that either the necessity must be explained with reference to what ishonourable, in this manner:--"It is necessary, if we wish to livewith honour;" or with reference to safety, in this manner:--"It isnecessary, if we wish to be safe;" or with reference to convenience, in this manner:--"It is necessary, if we are desirous to live withoutannoyance. "

LVIII. And the greatest necessity of all appears to be that whicharises from what is honourable; the next to it is that which arisesfrom considerations of safety; the third and least important is thatwhich has ideas of convenience involved in it. But this last cannever be put in comparison with the two former. But it is oftenindispensable to compare these together; so that although honour ismore precious than safety, there is still room to deliberate which oneis to consult in the greatest degree. And as to this point, it appearspossible to give a settled rule which may be of lasting application. For in whatever circumstances it can happen by any possibility thatwhile we are consulting our safety, that slight diminution of honestywhich is caused by our conduct may be hereafter repaired by virtue andindustry, then it seems proper to have a regard for our safety. Butwhen that does not appear possible, then we must think of nothing butwhat is honourable. And so in a case of that sort when we appear to beconsulting our safety, we shall be able to say with truth that weare also keeping our eyes fixed on what is honourable, since withoutsafety we can never attain to that end. And in these circumstances itwill be desirable to yield to another, or to put oneself in another'splace, or to keep quiet at present and wait for another opportunity. But when we are considering convenience, it is necessary to considerthis point also, --whether the cause, as far as it has reference tousefulness, appears of sufficient importance to justify us in takinganything from splendour or honour. And while speaking on this topic, that appears to me to be the main thing, that we should inquire whatthat is which, whether we are desirous of obtaining or avoiding it, is something necessary; that is to say, what is the character of theaddition; in order that, according as the matter is found to be, so wemay exert ourselves, and consider the most important circumstances asbeing also the most necessary. 

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

LIX. But praise and blame must be derived from those topics whichcan be employed with respect to persons, and which we have alreadydiscussed. But if any one wishes to consider them in a more separatemanner, he may divide them into the intention, and the person of thedoer, and extraneous circumstances. The virtue of the mind is thatconcerning the parts of which we have lately spoken; the virtuesof the body are health, dignity, strength, swiftness. Extraneouscircumstances are honour, money, relationship, family, friends, country, power, and other things which are understood to be of asimilar kind. And in all these, that which is of universal validityought to prevail here; and the opposites will be easily understood asto their description and character. 

But in praising and blaming, it will be desirable to consider notso much the personal character of, or the extraneous circumstancesaffecting the person of whom one is speaking, as how he has availedhimself of his advantages. For to praise his good fortune is folly, and to blame it is arrogance; but the praise of a man's naturaldisposition is honourable, and the blame of it is a serious thing. 

Now, since the principles of argumentation in every kind of cause havebeen set forth, it appears that enough has been said about invention, which is the first and most important part of rhetoric. Wherefore, since one portion of my work has been brought down to its end from theformer book; and since this book has already run to a great length, what remains shall be discussed in subsequent books. 

[_The two remaining books are lost_. ]

THE ORATOR OF M. T. CICERO. ADDRESSED TO MARCUS BRUTUS. 

This work was composed by Cicero soon after the battle of Pharsalia, and it was intended by him to contain the plan of what he himselfconsidered to be the most perfect style of eloquence. In his Epistlesto his Friends (vi. 18. ) he tells Lepta that he firmly believed thathe had condensed all his knowledge of the art of oratory in what hehad set forth in this book. 

I. I have, O Brutus, hesitated a long time and often as to whetherit was a more difficult and arduous business to refuse you, whenconstantly requesting the same favour, or to do what you desired me todo. For to refuse a man to whom I was attached above all men, and whomI knew also to be most entirely devoted to me, especially when he wasonly asking what was reasonable, and desiring what was honourable tome, appeared to me to be very harsh conduct; and to undertake a matterof such importance as was not only difficult for any man to have theability to execute in an adequate manner, but hard even to think ofin a way suited to its importance, appeared to me to be scarcelyconsistent with the character of a man who stood in awe of the reproofof wise and learned men. For what is there more important than, whenthe dissimilarity between good orators is so great, to decide which isthe best sort and as it were the best form of eloquence?

However, since you repeat your entreaties, I will attempt the task, not so much from any hope that I entertain of accomplishing it, asfrom my willingness to attempt it. For I had rather that you shouldfind fault with my prudence in thus complying with your eager desire, than with my friendship in refusing to attempt it. 

You ask me then, and indeed you are constantly asking me, what kindof eloquence I approve of in the highest degree, and which sort oforatory I consider that to which nothing can be added, and which Itherefore think the highest and most perfect kind. And in answeringthis question I am afraid lest, if I do what you wish, and give you anidea of the orator whom you are asking for, I may check the zeal ofmany, who, being discouraged by despair, will not make an attempt atwhat they have no hope of succeeding in. But it is good for all men totry everything, who have ever desired to attain any objects which areof importance and greatly to be desired. But if there be any one whofeels that he is deficient either in natural power, or in any eminentforce of natural genius, or that he is but inadequately instructed inthe knowledge of important sciences, still let him hold on his courseas far as he can. For if a man aims at the highest place, it is veryhonourable to arrive at the second or even the third rank. For inthe poets there is room not only for Homer (to confine myself to theGreeks), or for Archilochus, or Sophocles, or Pindar, but there isroom also for those who are second to them, or even below the second. Nor, indeed, did the nobleness of Plato in philosophical studies deterAristotle from writing; nor did Aristotle himself, by his admirableknowledge and eloquence, extinguish the zeal in those pursuits of allother men. 

II. And it is not only the case that eminent men have not beendeterred by such circumstances from the highest class of studies, buteven those artists have not renounced their art who have been unableto equal the beauty of the Talysus[58] which we have seen at Rhodes, or of the Coan Venus. Nor have subsequent sculptors been so faralarmed at the statue of the Olympian Jove, or of the Shield-bearer, as to give up trying what they could accomplish, or how far they couldadvance; and, indeed, there has been so vast a multitude of those men, and each of them has obtained so much credit in his own particularwalk, that, while we admire the most perfect models, we have alsoapprobation to spare for those who come short of them. 

But in the case of orators--I mean Greek orators--it is a marvellousthing how far one is superior to all the rest. And yet whenDemosthenes flourished there were many illustrious orators, and sothere were before his time, and the supply has not failed since. Sothat there is no reason why the hopes of those men, who have devotedthemselves to the study of eloquence, should be broken, or whytheir industry should languish. For even the very highest pitch ofexcellency ought not to be despaired of; and in perfect things thosethings are very good which are next to the most perfect. 

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

III. As therefore there is in forms and figures something perfect andsuperexcellent, the appearance of which is stamped in our minds sothat we imitate it, and refer to it everything which falls under oureyes; so we keep in our mind an idea of perfect eloquence, and seekfor its resemblance with our ears. 

Now Plato, that greatest of all authors and teachers, not only ofunderstanding, but also of speaking, calls those forms of thingsideas; and he affirms that they are not created, but that theyexist from everlasting, and are kept in their places by reason andintelligence: that all other things have their rising and setting, their ebb and flow, and cannot continue long in the same condition. Whatever there is, therefore, which can become a subject of discussionas to its principle and method, is to be reduced to the ultimate formand species of its class. 

And I see that this first beginning of mine is derived not from thediscussions of orators, but from the very heart of philosophy, andthat it is old-fashioned and somewhat obscure, and likely to incursome blame, or at all events to provoke some surprise. For men willeither wonder what all this has to do with that which is the subjectof our inquiry, and they will be satisfied with understanding thenature of the facts, so that it may not seem to be without reason thatwe have traced their origin so far back; or else they will blameus for hunting out for unaccustomed paths, and abandoning those inordinary use. 

But I am aware that I often appear to say things which are novel, whenI am in reality saying what is very old, only not generally known. And I confess that I have been made an orator, (if indeed I am one atall, ) or such as I am, not by the workshops of the rhetoricians, butby the walks of the Academy. For that is the school of manifold andvarious discourses, in which first of all there are imprinted thefootsteps of Plato. But the orator is to a great extent trained andassisted by his discussions and those of other philosophers. For allthat copiousness, and forest, as it were, of eloquence, is derivedfrom those men, and yet is not sufficient for forensic business;which, as these men themselves used to say, they left to more rusticmuses. Accordingly this forensic eloquence, being despised andrepudiated by philosophy, has lost many great and substantial helps;but still, as it is embellished with flowery language and well-turnedperiods, it has had some popularity among the people, and has had noreason to fear the judgment or prejudice of a few. And so populareloquence has been lost to learned men, and elegant learning toeloquent ones. 

IV. Let this then be laid down among the first principles, (and itwill be better understood presently, )--that the eloquent man whom weare looking for cannot be rendered such without philosophy. Not indeedthat there is everything necessary in philosophy, but that it is ofassistance to an orator as the wrestling-school is to an actor; forsmall things are often compared with great ones. For no one canexpress wide views, or speak fluently on many and various subjects, without philosophy. Since also, in the Phaedrus of Plato, Socrates saysthat this is what Pericles was superior to all other orators in, thathe had been a pupil of Anaxagoras the natural philosopher. And it wasowing to him, in his opinion, (though he had learnt also many othersplendid and admirable accomplishments, ) that he was so copious andimaginative, and so thoroughly aware--which is the main thing ineloquence--by what kinds of speeches the different parts of men'sminds are moved. 

And we may draw the same conclusion from the case of Demosthenes; fromwhose letters it may be gathered what a constant pupil of Plato'she was. Nor, indeed, without having studied in the schools ofphilosophers, can we discern the genus and species of everything; norexplain them by proper definitions; nor distribute them into theirproper divisions; nor decide what is true and what is false; nordiscern consequences, perceive inconsistencies, and distinguish whatis doubtful. Why should I speak of the nature of things, the knowledgeof which supplies such abundance of topics to oratory? or of life, andduty, and virtue, and manners? for what of all these things can beeither spoken of or understood without a long study of those matters?

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

Let us then, O Brutus, if we can, investigate the nature of this manwhom Antonius never beheld, or who perhaps has never even existed; andif we cannot imitate and copy him exactly, (which indeed Antonius saidwas scarcely possible for a god to do, ) still we may perhaps be ableto explain what he ought to be like. 

VI. There are altogether three different kinds of speaking, in each ofwhich there have been some eminent men; but very few (though that iswhat we are now looking for) who have been equally eminent in all. Forsome have been grandiloquent men, (if I may use such an expression, )with an abundant dignity of sentiments and majesty of language, --vehement, various, copious, authoritative; well adapted and preparedto make an impression on and effect a change in men's feelings: aneffect which some have endeavoured to produce by a rough, morose, uncivilized sort of speaking, not elaborated or wrought up with anycare; and others employ a smooth, carefully prepared, and well roundedoff style. 

On the other hand, there are men neat, acute, explaining everything, and making matters clearer, not nobler, polished up with a certainsubtle and compressed style of oratory; and in the same class thereare others, shrewd, but unpolished, and designedly resembling roughand unskilful speakers; and some who, with the same barrenness andsimplicity, are still more elegant, that is to say, are facetious, flowery, and even slightly embellished. 

But there is another class, half-way between these two, and as it werecompounded of both of them, endowed neither with the acuteness of thelast-mentioned orators, nor with the thunder of the former; as a sortof mixture of both, excelling in neither style; partaking of both, orrather indeed (if we would adhere to the exact truth) destitute of allthe qualifications of either. Those men go on, as they say, in oneuniform tenor of speaking, bringing nothing except their facility andequalness of language; or else they add something, like reliefs on apedestal, and so they embellish their whole oration, with triflingornaments of words and ideas. 

VII. Now, whoever have by themselves arrived at any power in each ofthese styles of oratory, have gained a great name among orators; butwe must inquire whether they have sufficiently effected what we want. For we see that there have been some men who have been ornate anddignified speakers, being at the same time shrewd and subtle arguers. And I wish that we were able to find a model of such an orator amongthe Latins. It would be a fine thing not to be forced to have recourseto foreign instances, but to be content with those of our own country. But though in that discourse of mine which I have published in theBrutus, I have attributed much credit to the Latins, --partlyto encourage others, and partly out of affection for my owncountrymen, --I still recollect that I by far prefer Demosthenes to allother men, inasmuch as he adapted his energy to that eloquence whichI myself feel to be such, and not to that which I have ever had anyexperience of in any actual instance. He was an orator than whomthere has never existed one more dignified, nor more wise, nor moretemperate. And therefore it is well that we should warn those menwhose ignorant conversation is getting to have some notoriety andweight, who wish either to be called Attic speakers, or who reallywish to speak in the Attic style, to fix their admiration on this manabove all others, than whom I do not think Athens itself more Attic. For by so doing they may learn what Attic means, and may measureeloquence by his power and not by their own weakness; for at presentevery one praises just that which he thinks that he himself is ableto imitate. But still I think it not foreign to my present subject toremind those who are endowed with but a weak judgment, what is thepeculiar merit of the Attic writers. 

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

X Let us then return to the subject of laying a foundation forthe orator whom we desire to see, and of furnishing him with thateloquence which Antonius had never found in any one. We are, O Brutus, undertaking a great and arduous task, but I think nothing difficult toa man who is in love. But I am and always have been in love with yourgenius, and your pursuits, and your habits. Moreover, I am every daymore and more inflamed not only with regret, --though I am worn awaywith that while I am wishing to enjoy again our meetings and our dailyassociation, and your learned discourse, --but also with the admirablereputation of your incredible virtues, which, though different intheir kind, are united by your prudence. For what is so different orremote from severity as courtesy? And yet who has ever been consideredeither more conscientious or more agreeable than you? And what isso difficult as, while deciding disputes between many people, to bebeloved by all of them? Yet you attain this end, of dismissing in acontented and pacified frame of mind the very parties against whom youdecide. Therefore, while doing nothing from motives of interestyou still contrive that all that you do should be acceptable. Andtherefore, of all the countries on earth, Gaul[59] is now the only onewhich is not affected by the general conflagration, while you yourselfenjoy your own virtues in peace, knowing that your conduct isappreciated in this bright Italy, and surrounded as you are by theflower and strength of the citizens. 

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

XI. But in everything it is very difficult to explain the form (thatwhich is called in Greek [Greek: charaktaer]) of perfection, becausedifferent things appear perfection to different people. I am delightedwith Ennius, says one person, because he never departs from theordinary use of words. I love Pacuvius, says another, all his versesare so ornamented and elaborate while Ennius is often so careless. Another is all for Attius. For there are many different opinions, asamong the Greeks, nor is it easy to explain which form is the mostexcellent. In pictures one man is delighted with what is rough harshlooking, obscure, and dark, others care only for what is neat cheerfuland brilliant. Why should you, then give any precise command orformula, when each is best in its own kind, and when there are manykinds? However, these difficulties have not repelled me from thisattempt, and I have thought that in everything there is some point ofabsolute perfection even though it is not easily seen, and, that itcan be decided on by a man who understands the matter. 

But since there are many kinds of speeches, and those different, andas they do not all fall under one form, the form of panegyric, and ofdeclamation, and of narration, and of such discourses as Isocrates hasleft us in his panegyric, and many other writers also who are calledsophists; and the form also of other kinds which have no connexionwith forensic discussion, and of the whole of that class which iscalled in Greek [Greek: epideiktikon], and which is made up as it werefor the purpose of being looked at--for the sake of amusement, Ishall omit at the present time. Not that they deserve to be entirelyneglected; for they are as it were the nursery of the orator whom wewish to draw; and concerning whom we are endeavouring to say somethingworth hearing. 

XII. From this form is derived fluency of words; from it also thecombination and rhythm of sentences derives a freer licence. Forgreat indulgence is shown to neatly turned sentences; and rhythmical, steady, compact periods are always admissible. And pains are takenpurposely, not disguisedly, but openly and avowedly, to make one wordanswer to another, as if they had been measured together and wereequal to each other. So that words opposed to one another may befrequently contrasted, and contrary words compared together, and thatsentences may be terminated in the same manner, and may give the samesound at their conclusion; which, when we are dealing with actualcauses, we do much more seldom, and certainly with more disguise. But, in his Panathenaic oration, Isocrates avows that he diligently keptthat object in view; for he composed it not for a contest in a courtof justice, but to delight the ears of his hearers. 

They say that Thrasymachus of Chalcedon, and Gorgias of Leontini, were the first men who taught this science; after him Theodorus ofByzantium, and many others whom Socrates in the Phaedrus calls [Greek:logodaidaloi]; who have said many things very tolerably clever, butwhich seem as if they had arisen at the moment, trifling, and likeanimals which change their colour, and too minutely painted. And thisis what makes Herodotus and Thucydides the more admirable; for thoughthey lived at the same time with those men whom I have named, stillthey kept aloof as far as possible from such amusements, or I shouldrather say from such follies. For one of them flows on like a tranquilriver, without any attempts at facetiousness; the other is borne onin a more impetuous course, and relates warlike deeds in a warlikespirit; and they are the first men by whom, as Theophrastus says, history was stirred up to dare to speak in a more fluent and adornedstyle than their predecessors had ventured on. 

XIII. Isocrates lived in the age next to theirs; who is at all timespraised by us above all other orators of his class, even though you, O Brutus, sometimes object in a jesting though not in an unlearnedspirit. But you will very likely agree with me when you know why Ipraise him. For as Thrasymachus appeared to him to be too concise withhis closely measured rhythm, and Gorgias also, though they are thefirst who are said to have laid down any rules at all for the harmonyof sentences; and as Thucydides was somewhat too abrupt and notsufficiently round, if I may use such an expression; he was the firstwho adopted a system of dilating his ideas with words, and fillingthem up with better sounding sentences; and as by his own practice heformed those men who were afterwards accounted the most eminent men inspeaking and writing, his house got to be reckoned a perfect schoolof eloquence. Therefore, as I, when I was praised by our friend Cato, could easily bear to be blamed by the rest; so Isocrates appears tohave a right to despise the judgment of other men, while he has thetestimony of Plato to pride himself on. For, as you know, Socrates isintroduced in almost the last page of the Phaedrus speaking in thesewords:--"At present, O Phaedrus, Isocrates is quite a young man; butstill I delight in telling the expectations which I have of him. ""What are they?" says he. "He appears to me to be a man of too loftya genius to be compared to Lysias and his orations: besides, he has agreater natural disposition for virtue; so that it will not be at allstrange if, when he has advanced in age, he will either surpass allhis contemporaries who turn their attention to eloquence, and in thiskind of oratory, to the study of which he is at present devoted, as ifthey were only boys; or, if he is not content with such a victory, hewill then feel some sort of divine inspiration prompting him to desiregreater things. For there is a deep philosophy implanted by naturein this man's mind. " This was the augury which Socrates forms of himwhile a young man. But Plato writes it of him when he has become anold man, and when he is his contemporary, and a sort of attacker ofall the rhetoricians. And Isocrates is the only one whom he admires. And let those men who are not fond of Isocrates allow me to remain inerror in the company of Socrates and Plato. 

That then is a delightful kind of oratory, free, fluent, shrewd inits sentiments, sweet sounding in its periods, which is found in thatdemonstrative kind of speaking which we have mentioned. It is thepeculiar style of sophists; more suitable for display than for actualcontest; appropriate to schools and exhibitions; but despised in anddriven from the forum. But because eloquence is first of all trainedby this sort of food, and afterwards gives itself a proper colour andstrength, it appeared not foreign to our subject to speak of what isas it were the cradle of an orator. However, all this belongs to theschools, and to display: let us now descend into the battle-field andto the actual struggle. 

XIV. As there are three things which the orator has to consider; whathe is saying; and in what place, and in what manner he is saying eachseparate thing; it seems on all accounts desirable to explain what isbest as to each separate subject, though in rather a differentmanner from that in which it is usually explained in laying down theprinciples of the science. We will give no regular rules, (for thattask we have not undertaken, ) but we will present an outline andsketch of perfect eloquence; nor will we occupy ourselves inexplaining by what means it is acquired, but only what sort of thingit appears to us to be. 

And let us discuss the two first divisions very briefly. For it isnot so much that they have not an important reference to the highestperfection, as that they are indispensable, and almost common toother studies also. For to plan and decide on what you will say areimportant points, and are as it were the mind in the body; still theyare parts of prudence rather than of eloquence; and yet what matter isthere in which prudence is not necessary? This orator, then, whom wewish to describe as a perfect one, must know all the topics suited toarguments and reasons of this class. For since whatever can possiblybe the subject of any contest or controversy, gives rise to theinquiry whether it exists, and what it is, and what sort of thing itis; while we endeavour to ascertain whether it exists, by tokens; whatit is, by definitions; what sort of thing it is, by divisions of rightand wrong; and in order to be able to avail himself of these topicsthe orator, --I do not mean any ordinary one, but the excellent onewhom I am endeavouring to depict, --always, if he can, diverts thecontroversy from any individual person or occasion. For it is in hispower to argue on wider grounds concerning a genus than concerninga part; as, whatever is proved in the universal, must inevitably beproved with respect to a part. This inquiry, then, when diverted fromindividual persons and occasions to a discussion of a universal genus, is called a thesis. This is what Aristotle trained young men in, notafter the fashion of ordinary philosophers, by subtle dissertations, but in the way of rhetoricians, making them argue on each side, in order that it might be discussed with more elegance and morecopiousness; and he also gave them topics (for that is what he calledthem) as heads of arguments, from which every sort of oration might beapplied to either side of the question. 

XV. This orator of ours then (for what we are looking for is not somedeclaimer out of a school, or some pettifogger from the forum, but amost accomplished and perfect orator), since certain topics are givento him, will run through all of them; he will use those which aresuitable to his purpose according to their class; he will learn alsofrom what source those topics proceed which are called common. Norwill he make an imprudent use of his resources, but he will weigheverything, and make a selection. For the same arguments have notequal weight at all times, or in all causes. He will, therefore, exercise his judgment, and he will not only devise what he is to say, but he will also weigh its force. For there is nothing more fertilethan genius, especially of the sort which has been cultivated bystudy. But as fertile and productive corn-fields bear not only corn, but weeds which are most unfriendly to corn, so sometimes from thosetopics there are produced arguments which are either trifling, orforeign to the subject, or useless; and the judgment of the orator hasgreat room to exert itself in making a selection from them. Otherwisehow will he be able to stop and make his stand on those argumentswhich are good and suited to his purpose? or how to soften what isharsh, and to conceal what cannot be denied, and, if it be possible, entirely to get rid of all such topics? or how will he be able tolead men's minds away from the objects on which they are fixed, orto adduce any other argument which, when opposed to that of hisadversaries, may be more probable than that which is brought againsthim?

And with what diligence will he marshal the arguments with which hehas provided himself? since that is the second of his three objects. He will make all the vestibule, if I may so say, and the approach tohis cause brilliant; and when he has got possession of the minds ofhis hearers by his first onset, he will then invalidate and excludeall contrary arguments; and of his own strongest arguments some hewill place in the van, some he will employ to bring up the rear, andthe weaker ones he will place in the centre. 

And thus we have described in a brief and summary manner what thisperfect orator should be like in the two first parts of speaking. But, as has been said before, in these parts, (although they are weightyand important, ) there is less skill and labour than in the others. 

XVI. But when he has found out what to say, and in what place he is tosay it, then comes that which is by far the most important division ofthe three, the consideration of the manner in which he is to say it. For that is a well-known saying which our friend Carneades used torepeat:--"That Clitomachus said the same things, but that Charmadassaid the same things in the same manner. " But if it is of so muchconsequence in philosophy even, how you say a thing, when it is thematter which is looked at there rather than the language, what can wethink must be the case in causes in which the elocution is all in all?And I, O Brutus, knew from your letters that you do not ask what sortof artist I think a consummate orator ought to be, as far as devisingand arranging his arguments; but you appeared to me to be askingrather what kind of eloquence I considered the best. A very difficultmatter, and, indeed, by the immortal gods! the most difficult of allmatters. For as language is a thing soft and tender, and so flexiblethat it follows wherever you turn it, so also the various naturesand inclinations of men have given rise to very different kinds ofspeaking. 

Some men love a stream of words and great volubility, placing alleloquence in rapidity of speech. Others are fond of distinct andbroadly marked intervals, and delays, and taking of breath. What canbe more different? Yet in each kind there is something excellent. Some labour to attain a gentle and equable style, and a pure andtransparent kind of eloquence; others aim at a certain harshness andseverity in their language, a sort of melancholy in their speech:and as we have just before divided men, so that some wish to appearweighty, some light, some moderate, so there are as many differentkinds of orators as we have already said that there are styles oforatory. 

XVII. And since I have now begun to perform this duty in a more amplemanner than you did require it of me, (for though the question whichyou put to me has reference only to the kind of oration, I havealso in my answer given you a brief account of the invention andarrangement of arguments, ) even now I will not speak solely of themanner of making a speech, but I will touch also on the manner ofconducting an action. And so no part whatever will be omitted: sincenothing need be said in this place of memory, for that is common tomany arts. 

But the way in which it is said depends on two things, --on actionand on elocution. For action is a sort of eloquence of the body, consisting as it does of voice and motion. Now there are as manychanges of voice as there are of minds, which are above all thingsinfluenced by the voice. Therefore, that perfect orator which ouroration has just been describing, will employ a certain tone of voiceregulated by the way in which he wishes to appear affected himself, and by the manner also in which he desires the mind of his hearer tobe influenced. And concerning this I would say more if this was theproper time for laying down rules concerning it, or if this was whatyou were inquiring about. I would speak also of gesture, with whichexpression of countenance is combined. And it is hardly possible toexpress of what importance these things are, and what use the oratormakes of them. For even people without speaking, by the mere dignityof their action, have often produced all the effect of eloquence; andmany really eloquent men, by their ungainly delivery have been thoughtineloquent. So that it was not without reason that Demosthenesattributed the first, and second, and third rank to action. For ifeloquence without action is nothing, but action without eloquence isof such great power, then certainly it is the most important part ofspeaking. 

XVIII. He, then, who aims at the highest rank in eloquence, willendeavour with his voice on the stretch to speak energetically; witha low voice, gently, with a sustained voice, gravely, and with amodulated voice, in a manner calculated to excite compassion. 

For the nature of the voice is something marvellous, for all its greatpower is derived from three sounds only, the grave sound, the sharpsound, and the moderate sound, and from these comes all that sweetvariety which is brought to perfection in songs. But there is alsoin speaking a sort of concealed singing, not like the peroration ofrhetoricians from Phrygia or Caria, which is nearly a chant, but thatsort which Demosthenes and Aeschines mean when the one reproaches theother with the affected modulation of his voice. Demosthenes says evenmore, and often declares that Aeschines had a very sweet and clearvoice. And in this that point appears to me worth noting, withreference to the study of aiming at sweetness in the voice. For natureof herself, as if she were modulating the voices of men, has placedin every one one acute tone, and not more than one, and that not morethan two syllables back from the last, so that industry may be guidedby nature when pursuing the object of delighting the ears. A goodvoice also is a thing to be desired, for it is not naturally implantedin us, but practice and use give it to us. Therefore, the consummateorator will vary and change his voice, and sometimes straining it, sometimes lowering it, he will go through every degree of tone. 

And he will use action in such a way that there shall be nothingsuperfluous in his gestures. His attitude will be erect and lofty, themotion of the feet rare, and very moderate, he will only move acrossthe tribune in a very moderate manner, and even then rarely, therewill be no bending of the neck, no clenching of the fingers, no riseor fall of the fingers in regular time, he will rather sway his wholebody gently, and employ a manly inclination of his side, throwing outhis arm in the energetic parts of his speech, and drawing it back inthe moderate ones. As to his countenance, which is of the greatestinfluence possible next to the voice, what dignity and what beautywill be derived from its expression! And when you have accomplishedthis, then the eyes too must be kept under strict command, that theremay not appear to be anything unsuitable, or like grimace. For as thecountenance is the image of the mind, so are the eyes the informers asto what is going on within it. And their hilarity or sadness will beregulated by the circumstances which are under discussion. 

XIX. But now we must give the likeness of this perfect orator and ofthis consummate eloquence, and his very name points out that he excelsin this one particular, that is to say, in oratory and that othereminent qualities are kept out of sight in him. For it is not by hisinvention, or by his power of arrangement, or by his action, thathe has embraced all these points, but in Greek he is called [Greek:raetor], and in Latin "eloquent, " from speaking. For every one claimsfor himself some share in the other accomplishments which belong to anorator, but the greatest power in speaking is allowed to be his alone. For although some philosophers have spoken with elegance, (sinceTheophrastus[60] derived his name from his divine skill in speaking, and Aristotle attacked Isocrates himself, and they say that the Musesas it were spoke by the mouth of Xenophon; and far above all men whohave ever written or spoken, Plato is preeminent both for sweetnessand dignity, ) still their language has neither the vigour nor thesting of an orator or a forensic speaker. They are conversing withlearned men whose minds they wish to tranquillize rather than toexcite, and so they speak on peaceful subjects which have no connexionwith any violence, and for the sake of teaching, not of charming, sothat even in the fact of their aiming at giving some pleasure by theirdiction, they appear to some people to be doing more than is necessaryfor them to do. 

It is not difficult, therefore, to distinguish between this kind ofspeaking and the eloquence which we are now treating of. For theaddress of philosophers is gentle, and fond of retirement, and notfurnished with popular ideas or popular expressions, not fettered byany particular rhythm, but allowed a good deal of liberty. It hasin it nothing angry, nothing envious, nothing energetic, nothingmarvellous, nothing cunning, it is as it were a chaste, modest, uncontaminated virgin. Therefore it is called a discourse rather thanan oration. For although every kind of speaking is an oration, stillthe language of the orator alone is distinguished by this name as itsown property. 

It appears more necessary to distinguish between it and the copy ofit by the sophists, who wish to gather all the same flowers which theorator employs in his causes. But they differ from him in this that, as their object is not to disturb men's minds, but rather to appeasethem, and not so much to persuade as to delight, and as they do itmore openly than we do and more frequently, they seek ideas which areneat rather than probable, they often wander from the subject, theyweave fables into their speeches, they openly borrow terms from othersubjects, and arrange them as painters do a variety of colours, theyput like things by the side of like, opposite things by the side oftheir contraries, and very often they terminate period after period insimilar manners. 

XX. Now history is akin to this side of writing, in which the authorsrelate with elegance, and often describe a legion, or a battle, and also addresses and exhortations are intermingled, but in themsomething connected and fluent is required, and not this compressedand vehement sort of speaking. And the eloquence which we are lookingfor must be distinguished from theirs nearly as much as it must fromthat of the poets. 

For even the poets have given room for the question, what the pointis in which they differ from the orators, formerly it appeared to bechiefly rhythm and versification, but of late rhythm has got a greatfooting among the orators. For whatever it is which offers the earsany regular measure, even if it be ever so far removed from verse, (for that is a fault in an oration, ) is called "number" by us, being the same thing that in Greek is called [Greek: ruthmos]. And, accordingly, I see that some men have thought that the language ofPlato and Democritus, although it is not verse, still, because itis borne along with some impetuosity and employs the most brilliantillustration that words can give, ought to be considered as poetryrather than the works of the comic poets, in which, except that theyare written in verse, there is nothing else which is different fromordinary conversation. Nor is that the principal characteristic ofa poet, although he is the more to be praised for aiming at theexcellences of an orator, when he is more fettered by verse. But, although the language of some poets is grand and ornamented, stillI think that they have greater licence than we have in makingand combining words, and I think too that they often, in theirexpressions, pay more attention to the object of giving pleasure totheir leaders than to their subject. Nor, indeed, does the fact ofthere being one point of resemblance between them, (I mean judgmentand the selection of words, ) make it difficult to perceive theirdissimilarity on other points. But that is not doubtful, and if therebe any question in the matter, still this is certainly not necessaryfor the object which is proposed to be kept in view. 

The orator, therefore, now that he has been separated from theeloquence of philosophers, and sophists, and historians, and poets, requires an explanation from us to show what sort of person he is tobe

XXI. The eloquent orator, then, (for that is what, according toAntonius, we are looking for) is a man who speaks in the forum andin civil causes in such a manner as to prove, to delight, and topersuade. To prove, is necessary for him; to delight, is a proof ofhis sweetness, to persuade, is a token of victory. For that alone ofall results is of the greatest weight towards gaining causes. Butthere are as many kinds of speaking as there are separate duties of anorator. The orator, therefore, ought to be a man of great judgment andof great ability, and he ought to be a regulator, as it were, of thisthreefold variety of duty. For he will judge what is necessary forevery one, and he will be able to speak in whatever manner the causerequires. But the foundation of eloquence, as of all other things, iswisdom. For as in life, so in a speech, nothing is more difficult thanto see what is becoming. The Greeks call this [Greek: prepon], we callit "decorum. " But concerning this point many admirable rules are laiddown, and the matter is well worth being understood. And it is owingto ignorance respecting it that men make blunders not only in life, but very often in poems, and in speeches. 

But the orator must consider what is becoming not only in hissentences, but also in his words. For it is not every fortune, norevery honour, nor every authority, nor every age, or place, or time, nor every hearer who is to be dealt with by the same character ofexpressions or sentiments. And at all times, in every part of a speechor of life, we must consider what is becoming, and that depends partlyon the facts which are the subject under discussion, and also on thecharacters of those who are the speakers and of those who are thehearers. Therefore this topic, which is of very wide extent andapplication, is often employed by philosophers in discussions on duty, not when they are discussing abstract right, for that is but one thingand the grammarians also too often employ it when criticising thepoets, to show their eloquence in every division and description ofcause. For how unseemly is it, when you are pleading before a singlejudge about a gutter, to use high sounding expressions and generaltopics, but to speak with a low voice and with subtle arguments in acause affecting the majesty of the Roman people. 

XXII. This applies to the whole genus. But some persons err as tothe character either of themselves, or of the judges, or of theiradversaries and not only in actual fact, but often in word. Althoughthere is no force in a word without a fact, still the same fact isoften either approved of, or rejected, according as this or thatexpression is employed respecting it. And in every case it isnecessary to take care how far it may be right to go, for althougheverything has its proper limit, still excess offends more thanfalling short. And that is the point in which Apelles said that thosepainters made a blunder, who did not know what was enough. 

There is here, O Brutus, an important topic, which does not escapeyour notice, and which requires another large volume. But for thepresent question this is enough, when we say that this is becoming, (an expression which we always employ in all words and actions, bothgreat and small)--when, I say, we say that this is becoming andthat that is not becoming, and when it appears to what extent eachassertion is meant to be applicable, and when it depends on somethingelse, and is quite another matter whether you say that a thing isbecoming or proper, (for to say a thing is proper, declares theperfection of duty, which we and all men are at all times to regardto say a thing is becoming, as to say that it is fit as it were, andsuitable to the time and person: which is often very important bothin actions and words, and in a person's countenance and gesturesand gait;)--and, on the other hand, when we say that a thing isunbecoming, (and if a poet avoids this as the greatest of faults, [andhe also errs if he puts an honest sentiment in the mouth of a wickedman, or a wise one in the mouth of a fool, ] or if that painter sawthat, when Calchas was sad at the sacrifice of Iphigenia, and Ulyssesstill more so, and Menelaus in mourning, that Agamemnon's headrequired to be veiled altogether, since it was quite impossible torepresent such grief as his with a paint brush; if even the actorinquires what is becoming, what must we think that the orator ought todo?) But as this is a matter of so much importance, the orator musttake care what he does in his causes, and in the different parts ofthem; that is plain, that not only the different parts of an oration, but that even whole causes are to be dealt with in different styles oforatory. 

XXIII. It follows that the characteristics and forms of each classmust be sought for. It is a great and difficult task, as we have oftensaid before; but it was necessary for us to consider at the beginningwhat we would discuss; and now we must set our sails in whatevercourse we are borne on. But first of all we must give a sketch of theman whom some consider the only orator of the Attic style. 

He is a gentle, moderate man, imitating the usual customs, differingfrom those who are not eloquent in fact rather than in any of hisopinions. Therefore those who are his hearers, even though theythemselves have no skill in speaking, still feel confident that theycould speak in that manner. For the subtlety of his address appearseasy of imitation to a person who ventures on an opinion, but nothingis less easy when he comes to try it; for although it is not a styleof any extraordinary vigour, still it has some juice, so that eventhough it is not endowed with the most extreme power, it is still, ifI may use such an expression, in perfect health. First of all, then, let us release it from the fetters of rhythm. For there is, as youknow, a certain rhythm to be observed by an orator, (and of that wewill speak presently, ) proceeding on a regular system; but though itmust be attended to in another kind of oratory, it must be entirelyabandoned in this. This must be a sort of easy style, and yet notutterly without rules, so that it may seem to range at freedom, not towander about licentiously. He should also guard against appearing tocement his words together; for the hiatus formed by a concourseof open vowels has something soft about it, and indicates a notunpleasing negligence, as if the speaker were anxious more about thematter than the manner of his speech. But as to other points, he musttake care, especially as he is allowed more licence in these two, --Imean the rounding of his periods, and the combination of his words;for those narrow and minute details are not to be dealt withcarelessly. But there is such a thing as a careful negligence; for assome women are said to be unadorned to whom that very want of ornamentis becoming, so this refined sort of oratory is delightful even whenunadorned. For in each case a result is produced that the thingappears more beautiful, though the cause is not apparent. Then everyconspicuous ornament will be removed, even pearls; even curling-ironswill be put away; and all medicaments of paint and chalk, allartificial red and white, will be discarded; only elegance andneatness will remain. The language will be pure and Latin; it will bearranged plainly and clearly, and great care will be taken to see whatis becoming. 

XXIV. One quality will be present, which Theophrastus calls the fourthin his praises of oratory;--full of ornament, sweetness, and fluency. Clever sentiments, extracted from I know not what secret store, willbe brought out, and will exert their power in the speeches of thisperfect orator. There will be a moderate use of what I may calloratorical furniture; for there is to a certain degree what I may callour furniture, consisting of ornaments partly of things and partly ofwords. But the ornaments consisting of words are twofold: one kindconsisting of words by themselves, the other consisting of them incombination. The simple embellishment is approved of in the case ofproper and commonly employed words, which either sound very well, or else are very explanatory of the subject; in words which do notnaturally belong to the subject, --it is either metaphorical, orborrowed from some other quarter; or else it is derived from thesubject, whether it is a new term, or an old one grown obsolete; buteven old and almost obsolete terms may be proper ones, only that weseldom employ them. But words when well arranged have great ornamentif they give any neatness, which does not remain if the words arealtered while the sense remains. For the embellishments of sentimentswhich remain, even if you alter the language in which they areexpressed, are many, but still there are but few of them which areworth remarking. 

Therefore a simple orator, provided he is elegant and not bold in thematter of making words, and modest in his metaphors, and sparing inhis use of obsolete terms, and humble in the rest of his ornaments ofwords and sentences, will perhaps indulge in a tolerably frequent useof that kind of metaphor which is common in the ordinary conversation, not only of city people, but even of rustics; since they too are inthe habit of saying, "that the vines sparkle with jewels, " "that thefields are thirsty, " "that the corn-fields are rejoicing, " "that thecrops are luxuriant. " Now there is not one of these expressions whichis not somewhat bold; but the thing is either like that which you usemetaphorically; or else, if it has no name of its own, the expressionwhich you use appears to have been borrowed for the sake of teaching, not of jesting. And this quiet sort of orator will use this ornamentwith rather more freedom than the rest; and yet he will not do it withas much licence as if he were practising the loftiest kind of oratory. 

XXV. Therefore that unbecomingness (and what that is may be understoodfrom the definition we have given of what is becoming) is visible herealso, when some sublime expression is used metaphorically, and is usedin a lowly style of oration, though it might have been becoming ina different one. But the neatness which I have spoken of, whichilluminates the arrangement of language by these lights which theGreeks, as if they were some gestures of the speech, call [Greek:schaemata], (and the same word is applied by them also to theembellishments of sentences, ) is employed by the refined orator (whomsome men call the Attic orator, and rightly too, if they did not meanthat he was the only one) but sparingly. For, as in the preparation ofa feast, a man while on his guard against magnificence, is desirous tobe thought not only economical but also elegant, he will choose whatis best for him to use. For there are many kinds of economy suited tothis very orator of whom I am speaking; for the ornaments which I havepreviously been mentioning are to be avoided by this acute orator, --Imean the comparing like with like, and the similarly sounding andequally measured ends of sentences, and graces hunted out as it wereby the alteration of a letter; so that it may not be visible thatneatness has been especially aimed at, and so that the orator may notbe detected in having been hunting for means of pleasing the ears ofhis audience. 

Again, if repetitions of the same expressions require a sort ofvehemence and loudness of voice, they will then be unsuited to thesimple style of oratory. The orator may use other embellishmentspromiscuously; only let him relax and separate the connexion of thewords, and use as ordinary expressions as possible, and as gentlemetaphors. Let him even avail himself of those lights of sentiments, as long as they are not too brilliant. He will not make the republicspeak; nor will he raise the dead from the shades below; nor will hecollect together a number of particulars in one heap, and so fold themin one embrace. Such deeds belong to more vigorous beings, nor arethey to be expected or required from this man of whom we are giving asketch; for he will be too moderate not only in his voice, but alsoin his style. But there are many embellishments which will suit hissimple style, although he will use even them in a strict manner; forthat is his character. 

He will have besides this, action, not tragic, nor suited to thestage, but he will move his body in a moderate degree, trusting agreat deal to his countenance; not in such a way as people call makingfaces but in a manner sufficient to show in a gentlemanlike manner inwhat sense he means what he is saying to be understood. 

XXVI. Now in this kind of speech sallies of wit are admissible, andthey carry perhaps only too much weight in an oration. Of them thereare two kinds, --facetiousness and raillery, --and the orator willemploy both; but he will use the one in relating anything neatly, andthe other in darting ridicule on his adversaries. And of this latterkind there are more descriptions than one; however, it is a differentthing that we are discussing now. Nevertheless we may give thiswarning, --that the orator ought to use ridicule in such a way asneither to indulge in it too often, that it may not seem likebuffoonery; nor in a covertly obscure manner, that it may not seemlike the wit of a comedian; nor in a petulant manner, lest it shouldseem spiteful; nor should he ridicule calamity, lest that should seeminhuman; nor crime, lest laughter should usurp the place which hatredought to occupy; nor should he employ this weapon when unsuitable tohis own character, or to that of the judges, or to the time; for allsuch conduct would come under the head of unbecoming. 

The orator must also avoid using jests ready prepared, such as do notarise out of the occasion, but are brought from home; for they areusually frigid. And he must spare friendships and dignities. He willavoid such insults as are not to be healed; he will only aim at hisadversaries, and not even always at them, nor at all of them, nor inevery manner. And with these exceptions, he will employ his sallies ofwit and his facetiousness in such a manner as I have never found anyone of those men do who consider themselves Attic speakers, thoughthere is nothing more Attic than that practice. 

This is the sketch which I conceive to be that of a plain orator, butstill of a great one, and one of a genius very kindred to the Attic;since whatever is witty or pleasant in a speech is peculiar to theAttics. Not, however, that all of them are facetious: Lysias is saidto be tolerably so, and Hyperides; Demades is so above all others. Demosthenes is considered less so, though nothing appears to me to bemore well-bred than he is; but he was not so much given to raillery asto facetiousness. And the former is the quality of a more impetuousdisposition; the latter betokens a more refined art. 

XXVII. There is another style more fertile, and somewhat moreforcible than this simple style of which we have been speaking; butnevertheless tamer than the highest class of oratory, of which I shallspeak immediately. In this kind there is but little vigour, but thereis the greatest possible quantity of sweetness; for it is fullerthan the plain style, but more plain than that other which is highlyornamented and copious. 

Every kind of ornament in speaking is suitable to this style; and inthis kind of oratory there is a great deal of sweetness. It is a stylein which many men among the Greeks have been eminent; but DemetriusPhalereus, in my opinion, has surpassed all the rest; and while hisoratory proceeds in calm and tranquil flow, it receives brilliancyfrom numerous metaphors and borrowed expressions, like stars. 

I call them metaphors, as I often do, which, on account of theirsimilarity to some other idea, are introduced into a speech forthe sake of sweetness, or to supply a deficiency in a language. Byborrowed expressions I mean those in which, for the proper word, another is substituted which has the same sense, and which is derivedfrom some subsequent fact. And though this too is a metaphoricalusage; still Ennius employed it in one manner when he said, "You areorphaning the citadel and the city;" and he would have used it in adifferent manner if he had used the word "citadel, " meaning "country. "Again, when he says that "horrid Africa trembles with a terribletumult, " he uses "Africa" for "Africans. " The rhetoricians call this"hypallage, " because one word as it were is substituted for another. The grammarians call it "metonymia, " because names are transferred. But Aristotle classes them all under metaphor, and so he does themisuse of terms which they call [Greek: katachraesis]. As when we calla mind "minute" instead of "little, " and misuse words which are nearto others in sense; if there is any necessity for so doing, or anypleasure, or any particular becomingness in doing so. When manymetaphors succeed one another uninterruptedly the sort of orationbecomes entirely changed. Therefore the Greeks call it [Greek:allaegoria], rightly as to name; but as to its class he speaksmore accurately who calls all such usages metaphors. Phalereus isparticularly fond of these usages, and they are very agreeable; andalthough there is a great deal of metaphor in his speaking, yet thereis no one who makes a more frequent use of the metonymia. 

The same kind of oratory, (I am speaking of the moderate and temperatekind), admits of all sorts of figures of expressions, and of many alsoof ideas. Discussions of wide application and extensive learningare explained in it, and common topics are treated without anyimpetuosity. In a word, orators of this class usually come from theschools of philosophers, and unless the more vigorous orator, whom Iam going to speak of presently, is at hand to be compared with them, the one whom I am now describing will be approved of. For there isa remarkable and flowery and highly-coloured and polished style oforatory, in which every possible elegance of expression and idea isconnected together. And it is from the fountain of the sophist thatall this has flowed into the forum; but still, being despised by thesubtle arguers, and rejected by dignified speakers, it has taken itsplace in the moderate kind of oratory of which I am speaking. 

XXVIII. The third kind of orator is the sublime, copious, dignified, ornate speaker, in whom there is the greatest amount of grace. For heit is, out of admiration for whose ornamented style and copiousness oflanguage nations have allowed eloquence to obtain so much influencein states; but it was only this eloquence, which is borne along in animpetuous course, and with a mighty noise, which all men looked upto, and admired, and had no idea that they themselves could possiblyattain to. It belongs to this eloquence to deal with men's minds, andto influence them in every imaginable way. This is the style whichsometimes forces its way into and sometimes steals into the senses;which implants new opinions in men, and eradicates others which havebeen long established. But there is a vast difference between thiskind of orator and the preceding ones. A man who has laboured at thesubtle and acute style, in order to be able to speak cunningly andcleverly, and who has had no higher aim, if he has entirely attainedhis object, is a great orator, if not a very great one; he is far fromstanding on slippery ground, and if he once gets a firm footing, isin no danger of falling. But the middle kind of orator, whom I havecalled moderate and temperate, if he has only arranged all his ownforces to his satisfaction, will have no fear of any doubtful oruncertain chances of oratory; and even if at any time he should not becompletely successful, which may often be the case, still he will bein no great danger, for he cannot fall far. But this orator of ours, whom we consider the first of orators, dignified, vehement, andearnest, if this is the only thing for which he appears born, or ifthis is the only kind of oratory to which he applies himself, and ifhe does not combine his copiousness of diction with those other twokinds of oratory, is very much to be despised. For the one who speakssimply, inasmuch as he speaks with shrewdness and sense, is a wiseman; the one who employs the middle style is agreeable; but thismost copious speaker, if he is nothing else, appears scarcely in hissenses. For a man who can say nothing with calmness, nothing withgentleness; who seems ignorant of all arrangement and definition anddistinctness, and regardless of wit, especially when some of hiscauses require to be treated in that matter entirely, and others in agreat degree; if he does not prepare the ears of his hearers before hebegins to work up the case in an inflammatory style, he seems like amadman among people in their senses, or like a drunken man among sobermen. 

XXIX. We have then now, O Brutus, the orator whom we are looking for;but only in our mind's eye. For if I had had hold of him in my hand, even he himself, with all his eloquence, should never have persuadedme to let him go. But, in truth, that eloquent man whom Antonius neversaw is now discovered. Who then is he? I will define him in a fewwords, and then describe him at length. For he is an eloquent man whocan speak of low things acutely, and of great things with dignity, andof moderate things with temper. 

Such a man you will say there never was. Perhaps there never was; forI am only discussing what I wish to see, and not what I have seen. And I come back to that sketch and idea of Plato's which I mentionedbefore; and although we do not see it, yet we can comprehend it inour mind. For I am not looking for an eloquent man, or for any othermortal or transitory thing; but for that particular quality whichwhoever is master of is an eloquent man; and that is nothing butabstract eloquence, which we are not able to discern with any eyesexcept those of the mind. He then will be an eloquent man, (to repeatmy former definition, ) who can speak of small things in a lowlymanner, of moderate things in a temperate manner, and of great thingswith dignity. The whole of the cause in which I spoke for Caecinarelated to the language or an interdict: we explained some veryinvolved matters by definitions; we praised the civil law; wedistinguished between words of doubtful meaning. In a discussion onthe Manilian law it was requisite to praise Pompey; and accordingly, in a temperate speech, we arrived at a copiousness of ornament. Thewhole question, of the rights of the people was contained in thecause of Rabinius; and accordingly we indulged in every conceivableamplification. But these styles require at times to be regulated andrestrained. What kind of argument is there which is not found in myfive books of impeachment of Verres? or in my speech for Avitus? or inthat for Cornelius? or in the other numerous speeches in defence ofdifferent men? I would give instances, if I did not believe them tobe well known, and that those who wanted them could select them forthemselves; for there is no effort of an orator of any kind, of whichthere is not in our speeches, if not a perfect example, at least someattempt at and sketch of. If we cannot arrive at perfection, at allevents we see what is becoming. 

Nor are we at present speaking of ourselves, but of eloquence, inwhich we are so far from having a high opinion of our own proficiency, that we are so hard to please and exacting, that even Demostheneshimself does not satisfy us. For he, although he is eminent above allmen in every description of oratory, still he does not always satisfymy ears; so greedy and capacious are they, and so unceasingly desiringsomething vast and infinite. 

XXX. But still, since you became thoroughly well acquainted with thisorator, in company with his devoted admirer Pammenes, when you wereat Athens, and as you never put him down out of your hands, though, nevertheless, you are often reading my works, you see forsooth that heaccomplishes many things, and that we attempt many things;--that hehas the power, we the will to speak in whatever manner the causerequires. But he was a great man, for he came after great men, and hehad consummate orators for his contemporaries. We should have done agreat deal if we had been able to arrive at the goal which we proposedto ourselves in a city in which, as Antonius says, no eloquent man hadbeen ever heard before. But, if Crassus did not appear to Antonius tobe eloquent, or if he did not think he was so himself, certainly Cottawould never have seemed so to him, nor Sulpicius, nor Hortensius. For Cotta never said anything sublime, Sulpicius never said anythinggently, Hortensius seldom spoke with dignity. Those former men weremuch more suited to every style; I mean Crassus and Antonius. We feel, therefore, that the ears of the city were not much accustomed to thisvaried kind of eloquence, and to an oratory so equally dividedamong all sorts of styles. And we, such as we were, and howeverinsignificant were our attempts, were the first people to turn theexceeding fondness of the people for listening to this kind ofeloquence. 

What an outcry was there when, as quite a young man I uttered thatsentence about the punishment of parricides! and even a long timeafterwards we found that it had scarcely entirely worn off. "For whatis so common, as breath to living people, the earth to the dead, thesea to people tossed about by the waves, or the shore to shipwreckedmariners?--they live while they are let live, in such a way as to beunable to breathe the air of heaven; they die so that their bones donot touch the earth; they are tossed about by the waves without everbeing washed by them; and at last they are cast up by them in such amanner, that when dead they are not allowed a resting-place even onthe rocks. " And so on. For all this is the language of a young man, extolled not on account of any real merit or maturity of judgment, asfor the hopes and expectations which he gave grounds for. From thesame turn of mind came that more polished invective, --"the wife ofher son-in-law; the mother-in-law of her son, the invader of herdaughter's bed. " Not, however, that this ardour was always visiblein us, so as to make us say everything in this manner. For that veryjuvenile exuberance of speech in defence of Roscius has many weakpassages in it, and some merry ones, such as also occur in the speechfor Avitus, for Cornelius, and many others. For no orator has ever, even in the Greek language, written as many speeches as I have. And myspeeches have the variety which I so much approve of. 

XXXI. Should I permit Homer, and Ennius, and the rest of the poets, and especially the tragic poets, to forbear displaying the samevehemence on every occasion, and constantly to change their language, and sometimes even to come near to the ordinary language of dailyconversation; and never myself descend from that fierce style ofvehement expression? But why do I cite poets of godlike genius? Wehave seen actors, than whom nothing could be more admirable of theirkind, who have not only given great satisfaction in the representationof the most different characters, and also in their own, but we haveseen even a comedian gain great applause in tragedies, and a tragedianin comedies;--and shall not I attempt the same thing? When I say I, OBrutus, I mean you also; for, as for myself, all that can be done hasbeen done. But will you plead every cause in the same manner, or arethere some kind of causes which you will reject? or will you employthe same uninterrupted vehemence in the same causes without anyalteration?

Demosthenes, indeed, whose bust of brass I lately saw between theimages of yourself and your ancestors, (a proof, I suppose, of yourfondness for him, ) when I was with you at your Tusculan villa, doesnot yield at all to Lysias in acuteness, nor in shrewdness andcleverness to Hyperides, nor in gentleness or brilliancy of languageto Aeschines. Many of his orations are very closely argued, asthat against Leptines; many are wholly dignified, as some of thePhilippics; many are of varied style, as those against Aeschines, the one about the false embassy, and the one also, against the sameAeschines in the cause of Ctesiphon. As often as he pleases he adoptsthe middle style, and, departing from his dignified tone, he indulgesin that lower one. But when he raises the greatest outcry on the partof his hearers, and makes the greatest impression by his speech, iswhen he employs the topics of dignity. 

However, let us leave Demosthenes for awhile, since it is a class thatwe are inquiring about, and not an individual. Let us rather explainthe effect and nature of the thing; that is, of Eloquence. And letus recollect what we have just said, that we are not going to sayanything for the sake of giving rules; but that we are going to speakso as to be thought people expressing an opinion rather than teaching. Though we often do advance further, because we see that you are notthe only person who will read this; you who, in fact, know all thismuch better than we ourselves who appear to be teaching you; but it isquite certain that this book will be extensively known, if not fromthe recommendation which its being my work will give it, at allevents, because of its appearing under the sanction of your name, bybeing dedicated to you. 

XXXII. I think, then, that it belongs to a perfectly eloquent man, notonly to have the ability, which is his peculiar province, of speakingcopiously and with the assertion of large principles, but also topossess its neighbouring and contiguous science of dialectics:although an oration appears one thing and a discussion another; nor istalking the same thing as speaking; though each belongs to discussing. Let then the system of discussing and talking belong to the logicians;but let the province of the orators be to speak and to embellish theirspeeches. Zeno, that great man, who founded the school of the Stoics, was in the habit of showing with his hand what was the differencebetween these arts; for when he had compressed his fingers and made afist, he said that dialectics were like that; but when he had openedhis fingers and expanded his hand, he said that eloquence was likehis open palm. And even before him Aristotle, in the beginning ofhis Rhetoric, said, that the art of eloquence in one portion of itcorresponded to dialectics; so that they differ from one another inthis, that the system of speaking is more wide, that of talking morecontracted. I wish, then, that this consummate orator should beacquainted with the entire system of talking, as far as it can beapplied to speaking; and that (as indeed you, who have a thoroughacquaintance with these arts, are well aware) has a twofold method ofteaching. For Aristotle himself has given many rules for arguing:and those who followed him, and who are called dialecticians, havedelivered many very difficult rules. Therefore I think, that the manwho is tempted by the glory of eloquence, is not utterly ignorantof those things; but that he has been brought up either in that oldschool, or in the school of Chrysippus. Let him first acquaint himselfwith the meaning and nature and classes of words, both single andcombined; then let him learn in how many ways each word is used; thenhow it is decided, whether a thing is false or true; then whatresults from each proposition; then to what argument each result isa consequence, and to what it is contrary; and, as many things arestated in an ambiguous manner, he must also learn how each of themought to be distinguished and explained. This is what must be acquiredby an orator; for those things are constantly occurring; but, becausethey are in their own nature less attractive, it is desirable toemploy some brilliancy of eloquence in explaining them. 

XXXIII. And since in all things which are taught in any regular methodand system, it is first of all necessary to settle what each thing is, (unless it is agreed by those who are discussing the point, what thething really is which is being discussed; nor otherwise is it possibleto discuss anything properly, or ever to get to the end of thediscussion, ) we must often have recourse to words to explain ourmeaning about each thing; and we must facilitate the understanding ofan involved and obscure matter by definition; since definition is akind of speech which points out in the most concise possible mannerwhat that is which is the subject of discussion. Then, as you know, when the genus of each thing has been explained, we must consider whatare the figures or divisions of that genus, so that our whole speechmay be arranged with reference to them. 

This faculty, then, will exist in the eloquent man whom we areendeavouring to describe, so that he shall be able to define a thing;and shall do it in the same close and narrow terms which are commonlyemployed in those very learned discussions; but he shall be moreexplanatory and more copious, and he shall adopt his definition moreto the ordinary judgment and usual intelligence of mankind. And again, when circumstances require it, he shall divide and arrange the wholegenus into certain species, so that none shall be omitted and nonebe superfluous. But when he shall do this, or how, is nothing tothe present question; since, as I have said before, I am here onlyexpressing an opinion, not giving a lesson. 

Nor, indeed, must he be learned only in dialectics, but he must haveall the topics of philosophy familiar to him and at his fingers' ends. For nothing respecting religion, or death, or affection, or love forone's country, or good fortune, or bad fortune, or virtues, or vices, or duty, or pain, or pleasure, or the different motions of the mind, or mistakes, all which topics frequently occur in causes, but aretreated usually in a very meagre manner, can be discussed andexplained in a dignified and lofty and copious manner without thatknowledge which I have mentioned. 

XXXIV. I am speaking at present concerning the subject matter of aspeech, not about the kind of speaking requisite. For I would ratherthat an orator should first have a subject to speak of worthy oflearned ears, before he considers in what words or in what manner heis to speak of everything; and, in order to make him grander, and insome sense loftier (as I have said above about Pericles, ) I shouldwish him not to be utterly ignorant of physical science; and then, when he descends again from heavenly matters to human affairs, he willhave all his words and sentiments of a more sublime and magnificentcharacter: and while he is acquainted with those divine laws, I do notwish him to be ignorant of those of men. He must be a master of civillaw, which forensic debates are in daily need of. For what is moreshameful than for a man to undertake the conduct of legal and civildisputes, while ignorant of the statutes and of civil law? He must beacquainted also with the history of past ages and the chronology ofold time, especially, indeed, as far as our own state is concerned;but also he must know the history of despotic governments and ofillustrious monarchs; and that toil is made easier for us by thelabours of our friend Atticus, who has preserved and made known thehistory of former times in such a way as to pass over nothing worthknowing, and yet to comprise the annals of seven hundred years in onebook. For not to know what happened before one was born, is to bea boy all one's life. For what is the life of a man unless by arecollection of bygone transactions it is united to the times ofhis predecessors? But the mention of antiquity and the citation ofexamples give authority and credit to a speech, combined with thegreatest pleasure to the hearers. 

XXXV. Let him, therefore, come to his causes prepared in this kind ofway; and he will in the first place be acquainted with the differentkinds of causes. For he will be thoroughly aware that nothing can bedoubted except when either the fact or the language gives riseto controversy. But the fact is doubted as to its truth, or itspropriety, or its name. Words give rise to dispute if they areambiguous or inconsistent. For it ever appears to be the case, thatone thing is meant and another expressed; then that is one kind ofambiguity which arises from the words which are employed; and in thiswe see that two things are meant, which is a property of all ambiguoussentences. 

As there are not many different kinds of causes, so also the rules forarguments to be used in them are few. Two kinds of topics are givenfrom which they may be derived; one from the circumstances themselves, the others assumed. The handling, then, of the matters themselvesmakes the speech better; for the matters themselves are usually easyto be acquainted with. For what remains afterwards, which at leastbelongs to art, except to begin the speech in such a manner that thehearer may be conciliated, or have his attention roused, or may bemade eager to learn? then after that to explain with brevity, andprobability, and clearness, so that it may be understood what is thequestion under discussion; to establish his own arguments; to overturnthose of the opposite party; and to do all that, not in an irregularand confused manner, but with separate arguments, concluded in sucha manner, that everything may be established which is a naturalconsequence of those principles which are assumed for the confirmationof each point: and after everything else is done, then to wind up witha peroration which shall inflame or cool the hearers, as the case mayrequire. 

Now, how the consummate orator handles each separate division of hissubject, it is hard to explain in this place; nor, indeed, are theyhandled at all times in the same manner. But since I am not seeking apupil to teach, but a model to approve of, I will begin by praisingthe man who sees what is becoming. For this is above all others thewisdom which the eloquent man wants, namely--to be the regulator oftimes and persons. For I do not think that a man ought to speak in thesame manner at all times, or before all people, or against every one, or in defence of every one, or to every one. 

XXXVI. He, then, will be an eloquent man who can adapt his speech towhatever is becoming. And when he has settled that point, then hewill say everything as it ought to be said; nor will he speak of richsubjects in a meagre manner, nor of great subjects in a petty manner, and vice versa; but his oration will be equal to, and correspondingto, his subject; his exordium will be moderate, not inflamed withexaggerated expressions, but acute in its sentiments, either in theway of exciting his hearers against his adversary, or in recommendinghimself to them. His relations of facts will be credible, explainedclearly, not in historical language, but nearly in the tone of everyday conversation. Then if his cause is but a slight one, so alsowill the thread of his argument be slight, both in asserting and inrefuting. And it will be maintained in such a way, that there will bejust as much force added to the speech as is added to the subject. But when a cause offers in which all the force of eloquence can bedisplayed, then the orator will give himself a wider scope, then hewill influence and sway men's minds, and will move them just as hepleases, that is to say, just as the nature of the cause and theoccasion requires. 

But all that admirable embellishment of his will be of a twofoldcharacter; on account of which it is that eloquence gains such greathonour. For as every part of a speech ought to be admirable, so thatno word should be let drop by accident which is not either grave ordignified; so also there are two parts of it which are especiallybrilliant and lively: one of which I place in the question of theuniversal genus, which (as I have said before) the Greeks call [GreekThesis]; the other is shown in amplifying and exaggerating matters, and is called by the same people [Greek auxaesis]. And although thatought to be spread equally over the whole body of the oration, stillit is most efficacious in dealing with common topics; which are calledcommon, because they appear to belong to many causes, but still oughtto be considered as peculiar to some individual ones. 

But that division of a speech which refers to the universal genusoften contains whole causes; for whatever that is on which there is, as it were, a contest and dispute, which in Greek is called [Greekkrinomenon], that ought to be expressed in such a manner that it maybe transferred to the general inquiry and be spoken of the wholegenus; except when a doubt is raised about the truth; which isoften endeavoured to be ascertained by conjecture. But it shall bediscussed, not in the fashion of the Peripatetics (for it is a veryelegant exercise of theirs, to which they are habituated ever sincethe time of Aristotle), but with rather more vigour; and common topicswill be applied to the subject in such a manner, that many things willbe said gently in behalf of accused persons, and harshly against theadversaries. 

But in amplifying matters, and, on the other hand, in discarding them, there is nothing which oratory cannot effect. And that must be doneamid the arguments, as often as any opportunity is afforded one, of either amplifying or diminishing: and may be done to an almostinfinite extent in summing up. 

XXXVII. There are two things, which, when well handled by an orator, make eloquence admirable. One of which is, that which the Greeks call[Greek: haethikon], adapted to men's natures, and manners, and toall their habits of life; the other is, that which they call [Greek:pathaetikon], by which men's minds are agitated and excited, whichis the especial province of oratory. The former one is courteous, agreeable, suited to conciliate good-will; the latter is violent, energetic, impetuous, by which causes are snatched out of the fire, and when it is hurried on rapidly it cannot by any means be withstood. And by the use of this kind of oratory we, who are but moderateorators, or even less than that, but who have at all times displayedgreat energy, have often driven our adversaries from every part oftheir case. That most consummate orator, Hortensius, was unable toreply to me, on behalf of one of his intimate friends; that mostaudacious of men, Catiline, was dumb when impeached in the senate byme. When Curio, the father, attempted in a private cause of graveimportance to reply to me, he suddenly sat down, and said, that he wasdeprived of his memory by poison. Why need I speak of the topics usedto excite pity? which I have employed to the greater extent, because, even if there were many of us employed in one cause, still all men atall times yielded me the task of summing up; and it was owing not somuch to my ability as to my sensibility, that I appeared to excel somuch in that part. And those qualities of mine, of whatever sort theyare, and I am ashamed that they are not of a higher class, appear inmy speeches: although my books are without that energy, on accountof which those same speeches appear more excellent when they aredelivered than when they are read. 

XXXVIII. Nor is it by pity alone that it is desirable to move theminds of the judges, (though we have been in the habit of using thattopic ourselves in so piteous a manner that we have even held aninfant child by the hand while summing up; and in another cause, whena man of noble birth was on his trial, we lifted up his little son, and filled the forum with wailing and lamentations;) but we must alsoendeavour to cause the judge to be angry, to appease him to make himfeel ill-will, and favour, to move him to contempt or admiration, tohatred or love, to inspire him with desire or disgust, with hopeor fear, with joy or pain; in all which variety the speeches ofprosecutors will supply instances of the sterner kinds, and myspeeches in defence will furnish examples of the softer ones. Forthere is no means by which the mind of the hearer can be eitherexcited or softened, which has not been tried by me; I would say, brought to perfection, if I thought it was the case; nor should I fearthe imputation of arrogance while speaking the truth. But, as Ihave said before, it is not any particular force of genius, but anexceeding energy of disposition which inflames me to such a degreethat I cannot restrain myself; nor would any one who listens to aspeech ever be inflamed, if the speech which reached his ears was notitself a fiery one. 

I would use examples from my own works if you had not read them; Iwould use them from the works of others, if I could find any; orGreek examples, if it were becoming to do so. But there are very fewspeeches of Crassus extant, and those are not forensic speeches. There is nothing extant of Antonius's, nothing of Cotta's, nothing ofSulpicius's. Hortensius spoke better than he wrote. But we must formour own opinions as to the value of this energy which we are lookingfor, since we have no instance to produce; or if we are still on thelook out for examples, we must take them from Demosthenes, and we mustcite them from that passage in the speech on the trial of Ctesiphon, where he ventures to speak of his own actions and counsels andservices to the republic. That oration in truth corresponds so muchto that idea which is implanted in our minds that no higher eloquenceneed be looked for. 

XXXIX. But now there remains to be considered the form and characterof the eloquence which we are searching for; and what it ought to belike may be understood from what has been said above. For we havetouched upon the lights of words both single and combined, in whichthe orator will abound so much that no expression which is not eitherdignified or elegant will ever fall from his mouth. And there will befrequent metaphors of every sort; because they, on account of theirresemblance to something else, move the minds of the hearers, and turnthem this way and that way; and the very agitation of thought whenoperating in quick succession is a pleasure of itself. 

And those other lights, if I may so call them, which are derived fromthe arrangement of words, are a great ornament to a speech. For theyare like those things which are called decorations in the splendidornamenting of a theatre or a forum; not because they are the onlyornaments, but because they are the most excellent ones. The principleis the same in the case of these things which are the lights, and asone may say, the decorations of oratory: when words are repeated andreiterated, or are put down with slight alterations; or when thesentences are often commenced with the same word, or end with the sameword; or both begin and end alike; or when the same word occurs in thesame place in consecutive sentences; or when one word is repeated indifferent senses; or when sentences end with similar sounds; or whencontrary circumstances are related in many contrary manners; or whenthe speech proceeds by gradations; or when the conjunctions are takenaway and each member of the sentence is uttered unconnectedly; or whenwe pass over some points and explain why we do so; or when we of ourown accord correct ourselves, as if we blamed ourselves; or if we useany exclamation of admiration, or complaint; or when the same noun isoften repeated in different cases. 

But the ornaments of sentiments are more important; and becauseDemosthenes employs them very frequently, some people think that thatis the principal thing which makes his eloquence so admirable. Andindeed there is hardly any topic treated by him without a carefularrangement of his sentences; nor indeed is speaking anything elseexcept illuminating all, or at least nearly all, one's sentences witha kind of brilliancy: and as you are thoroughly aware of all this, O Brutus, why need I quote names or instances. I only let the placewhere they occur be noted. 

XL. If then that consummate orator whom we are looking for, should saythat he often treats one and the same thing in many different manners;and dwells a long time on the same idea; and that he often extenuatessome point, and often turns something into ridicule; that heoccasionally appears to change his intention and vary his sentiments;that he proposes beforehand the points which he wishes to prove; thatwhen he has completed his argument on any subject he terminates it;that he often recals himself back, and repeats what he has alreadysaid; that he winds up his arguments with fresh reasons; that he beatsdown the adversary with questions; again, that he himself answersquestions which as it were he himself has put; that he sometimeswishes to be understood as meaning something different from what hesays; that he often doubts what he had best say, or how he had bestsay it; that he arranges what he has to say under different heads;that he leaves out or neglects some points; while there are somewhich he fortifies beforehand; that he often throws the blame on hisadversary for the very thing for which he himself is found fault with;that he often appears to enter into deliberation with his hearers, andsometimes even with his adversary; that he describes the conversationand actions of men; that he introduces some dumb things, as speaking;that he diverts men's minds from the subject under discussion; that heoften turns the discussion into mirth and laughter; that he sometimespreoccupies ground which he sees is attached; that he adducescomparisons; that he cites precedents; that he attributes one thingto one person and another to another; that he checks any one whointerrupts him; that he says that he is keeping back something; thathe adds threatening warnings of what his hearers must beware of; thathe often takes a bolder licence; that he is sometimes even angry; thathe sometimes utters reproaches, deprecates calamity, uses the languageof supplication, and does away with unfavourable impressions; that hesometimes departs a very little from his subject, to express wishes orto utter execrations, or to make himself a friend of those men beforewhom he is speaking. 

He ought also to aim at other virtues, if I may so call them, inspeaking; at brevity, if the subject requires it. He will often, also, by his speech, bring the matter before people's eyes; and often extolit beyond what appears possible; his meaning will be often morecomprehensive than his speech; he will often assume a cheerfullanguage, and often give an imitation of life and nature. 

XLI. In this kind of speaking, for you may look upon oratory as a vastwood, all the importance of eloquence ought to shine forth. But thesequalities, unless they are well arranged and as it were built uptogether and connected by suitable language, can never attain thatpraise which we wish that it should. 

And as I was aware that it would be necessary for me to speak on thispoint next, although I was influenced by the considerations whichI had mentioned before, still I was more disturbed by those whichfollow. For it occurred to me, that it was possible that men should befound, I do not mean envious men, with whom all places are full, buteven favourers of my glory, who did not think that it became a manwith reference to whose services the senate had passed such favourablevotes with the approbation of the whole Roman people, as they neverdid in the case of any one else, to write so many books about themethod of speaking. And if I were to give them no other answer thanthat I was unwilling to refuse the request of Marcus Brutus, it wouldbe a reasonable excuse, as T might well wish to satisfy a man who wasmy greatest friend and a most excellent man, and who only asked whatwas right and honourable. But if I were to profess (what I wish that Icould) that I was about to give rules, and paths, as it were, to leadto eloquence those who are inclined to study oratory, what man who seta proper value on things would find fault with me? For who has everdoubted that eloquence has at all times been of the very highestestimation in our republic, among all the accomplishments of peace, and of our domestic life in the city; and that next to it is theknowledge of the law? and that the one had in it the greatest amountof influence, and credit, and protection; and the other contains rulesfor prosecutions and defence; and this latter would often of its ownaccord beg for assistance from eloquence; but if it were refused, would scarcely be able to maintain its own rights and territories. 

Why then has it been at all times an honourable thing to teach civillaw, and why have the houses of the most eminent professors of thisscience been at all times crowded with pupils? And yet if any oneattempts to excite people to the study of oratory, or to assist theyouth of the city in that pursuit, should he be blamed? For, if it bea vicious thing to speak in an elegant manner, then let eloquence beexpelled altogether from the state. But if it not only is an ornamentto those who possess it, but the whole republic also, then why is itdiscreditable to learn what it is honourable to know; of, why shouldit be anything but glorious to teach what it is most excellent to beacquainted with?

XLII. But the one is a, common study, and the other a novel one. Iadmit that; but there is a reason for both these facts. For it wassufficient to listen to the lawyers giving their answers, so thatthey who acted as instructors set aside no particular time for thatpurpose, but were at one and the same time satisfying the wants bothof their pupils and their clients. But the other men, as they devotedall their time, when at home, to acquiring a correct understanding ofthe causes entrusted to them, and arranging the arguments which theywere to employ; all their time when in the forum to pleading thecause, and all the rest of their time in recruiting their ownstrength; what time had they for giving rules or lessons? and I do notknow whether most of our orators have not excelled more in genius thanin learning; therefore, they have been able to speak better than theycould teach, while our ability is perhaps just the contrary. 

But there is no dignity in teaching. --Certainly not, if it is done asif one kept a school; but if a man teaches by warning, by exhorting, by asking questions, by giving information, sometimes by reading withhis pupils and hearing them read, then I do not know, if by teachinganything you can sometimes make men better, why you should beunwilling to do it. Is it honourable to teach a man what are theproper words to alienate consecrated property with, and not honourableto teach him those by which consecrated property may be maintained anddefended?

"But, " men say, "many people profess law who know nothing about it;but even the very men who have acquired eloquence conceal theirattainment of it, because wisdom is a thing agreeable to men, buteloquence is suspected by them. " Is it possible then for eloquence toescape notice, or does that which a man conceals cease to exist? Or isthere any danger of any one thinking with respect to an important andglorious art that it is a discreditable thing to teach others thatwhich it was very honourable to himself to learn? But perhaps othersmay be better hands at concealment; I have always openly avowed that Ihave learnt the art. For what could I have done, having left my homewhen very young, and crossed the sea for the sake of those studies;and having had my house full of the most learned men, and when therewere perhaps some indications of learning in my conversation; and whenmy writings were a good deal read; could I then have concealed thefact of my having learnt it? How could I justify myself except byshowing that I had made some progress in those studies?

XLIII. And as this is the case still, the things which have beenalready mentioned, have had more dignity in the discussion of themthan those which have got to be discussed. For we are now to speakabout the arrangement of words, and almost about the counting andmeasuring of syllables. And, although these things are, as it appearsto me, necessary, yet there is more show in the execution than inthe teaching of them. Now that is true of everything, but it has apeculiar force with respect to this pursuit. For in the case of allgreat arts, as in that of trees, it is the height which delights us, but we take no pleasure in the roots or trunks; though the one cannotexist without the other. But as for me, whether it is that thatwell-known verse which forbids a man

"To fear to own the art he practises, "

does not allow me to conceal that I take delight in it; or whether itis your eagerness which has extorted this volume from me; still it wasworth while to make a reply to those whom I suspected of being likelyto find fault with me. 

But if the circumstances which I have mentioned had no existence, still who would be so harsh and uncivilised as not to grant me thisindulgence, so that, when my forensic labours and my public exertionswere interrupted, I might devote my time to literature rather than toinactivity of which I am incapable, or to melancholy which I resist?For it was a love of letters which formerly led me into the courts ofjustice and the senate-house, and which now delights me when I am athome. Nor am I occupied only with such subjects as are contained inthis book, but with much more weighty and important, ones; and ifthey are brought to perfection, then my private literary labours willcorrespond to my forensic exertions. However, at present let us returnto the discussion we had commenced. 

XLIV. Our words then must be arranged either so that the last may ascorrectly as possible be consistent with the first, and also so thatour first expressions may be as agreeable as possible; or so that thevery form of our sentences and their neatness may be well rounded off;or so that the whole period may end in a musical and suitable manner. And, in the first place, let us consider what kind of thing that iswhich above all things requires our diligence, so that a regularstructure as it were may be raised, and yet that this may be effectedwithout any labour. For the labour would be not only infinite, butchildish. As in Lucilius, Scaevola is represented as attacking Albuciusvery sensibly:

 "How neatly all your phrases are arranged; Like tesselated pavement, or a box Inlaid with deftly wrought mosaic. "

The care taken in the construction must not be too visible. But stilla practised pen will easily perfect this manner of arranging itsphrases. For as the eye does in reading, so in speaking, the eye willsee beforehand what follows, so that the combination of the last wordsof a sentence with the first may not leave the whole sentence eithergaping or harsh. For sentiments ever so agreeable or dignified offendthe ears if they are set down in ill-arranged sentences; for thejudgment of the ears is very fastidious. And the Latin language is soparticular on this point, that no one can be so ignorant as to leavequantities of open vowels. Though this is a point on which men blameTheopompus, because he was so ostentatious in his avoidance of suchletters, although his master Isocrates did the same; but Thucydidesdid not; nor did that other far superior writer, Plato. And he didthis not only in those conversations which are called Dialogues, whenit ought to have been done designedly; but even in that oration[61]addressed to the people, in which it is customary at Athens for thosemen to be extolled who have been slain in fighting for their country. And that oration was so greatly approved of that it was, as you know, appointed to be recited every year; and in that there is a constantsuccession of open vowels, which Demosthenes avoided in a great degreeas vicious. 

XLV. However, the Greeks must judge of that matter for themselves. Weare not allowed to use our words in that manner, not even if we wishto; and this is shown even by those unpolished speeches of Cato. It isshown by all the poets except those who sometimes had recourse to ahiatus in order to finish their verse; as Naevius--

"Vos, qui accolitis Istrum fluvium, atque Algidam. "

And again--

"Quam nunquam vobis Graii atque Barbari. "

But Ennius does so only once--

"Scipio invicte. "

And we too have written, --

"Hinc motu radiantis Etesiae in vada ponti. "

For our countrymen would not have endured the frequent use of such aliberty, though the Greeks even praise it. But why should I talk aboutvowels? even without counting vowels, they often used contractions forthe sake of brevity, so as to say--

 Multi' modis for imdtis modis. Vas' argenteis for vasis argenteis. Palmi et crinibus for palmis et crinibus. Tecti' fractis for tectis fractis. 

And what would be a greater liberty than to contract even men's names, so as to make them more suitable to verse? For as they contracted_duellum_ into _bellum_, and _duis_ into _bis_, so they called_Duellius_ (the man I mean who defeated the Carthaginians in a navalaction) _Bellius_, though his ancestors were always called _Duellii_. Moreover, they often contract words, not in obedience to anyparticular usage, but only to please the ear. For how was it thatAxilla was made Ala, except by the flight of the larger letter? and sothe elegant usage of Latin conversation takes this letter _x_ out of_maxilla_, and _taxilla_, and _vexillum_, and _paxillum_. 

They also joined words by uniting them at their pleasure; so as tosay--_sodes_ for _si audes_, _sis_ for _si vis_. And in this word_capsis_ there are no less than three[62] words. So _ain_ for _aisne, nequire_ for _non quire, malle_ for _magis velle, nolle_ for _sonvelle_. And again, we often say _dein_ for _deinde_, and _exin_ for_exinde_. Well, need I give any more instances? Cannot we see easilyfrom whence it arises that we say _cum illis_, but we do not say _cumnobis_, but _nobiscum_? because if it were said in the other way, theletters would clash in a discordant manner; as they would have clasheda minute ago if I had not put _autem_ between them. This is the originof our saying _mecum_ and _tecum_, not _cum me_, and _cum te_, so thatthey too might be like _nobiscum_ and _vobiscum_. 

XLVI. And some men find fault with all this; men who are rather latein mending antiquity; for they wish us, instead of saying _Deūm atquehominum fidem_, to say _Deorum_. Very likely it may be right, but wereour ancestors ignorant of all this, or was it usage that gave themthis liberty? Therefore the same poet who had used these uncommoncontractions--

"Patris mei mecūm factūm pudet, " for meorum factorum, and, "Texitur: exitiūm examen rapit, " for exitiorum, does not say "_liberūm_" as many of us do say in such an expression as_cupidos liberūm_, or in _liberūm loco_, but, as these men approve, "Neque tuum unquam in gremium extollas liberorum ex te genus. "

And again he says, --

"Namque aesculapi liberorum. .. . "

And another of these poets says in his Chryses, not only

"Cives, antiqui amici majorum meūm, "

which was common enough; but he says, with a much more unmusicalsound, --

"Consiliūm, auguriūm, atque extūm interpretes. "

And again he goes on--

"Postquam prodigiūm horriferūm, putentfūm pavos, "

which are not at all usual contractions in a string of words which areall neuter. Nor should I much like to say _armūm judicium_, though theexpression occurs in that same poet, --

"Nihilne ad te de judicio armūm accidit?"

instead of _armorum_. But I do venture (following the language of thecensor's returns) to say _jabrūm_ and _procūm_, instead of _fabrorum_and _procorum_. And I actually never by any chance say _duorum virorumjudicium_, or _triumvirorum capitalium_, or _decemvirorum litibusjudicandis_. 

And Attius said--

"Video sepulchra dua duorum corporam. "

And at another time he has said, --

"Mulier una duūm virūm. "

I know which is proper; but sometimes I speak according to the licenceof the present fashion, so far as to say _Proh Deūm_, or _ProhDeorum_; and at other times I speak as I am forced to, when I say_trium virūm_, not _virorum_, and _sestertiūm nummūm_, not _nummorum_;because with respect to these words there is no variety of usage. 

XLVII. What am I to say is the reason why they forbid us to say_nōsse, judicāsse_, and enjoin us to use _novisse_ and _judicavisse_?as if we did not know that in words of this kind it is quite correctto use the word at full length, and quite in accordance with usage touse it in its contracted form. And so Terence does use both forms, andsays, --

"Eho, tu cognatum tuum non nōras?"

And afterwards he has, --

"Stilphonem, inquam, noveras?"

_Siet_ is the word at full length; _sit_ is the contracted form. Onemay use either; and so we find in the same passage, --

 "Quam cara sint, quae post carendo intelligunt, Quamque attinendi magni dominatus sient. "

Nor should I find fault with

"Scripsere alii rem. "

I am aware that _scripserunt_ is the more correct form; but Iwillingly comply with a fashion which is agreeable to the ears. 

"Idem campus habet, "

says Eunius; and in another place he has given us, --

"In templis īsdem;"

but _eisdem_ would be more regular; but yet it would not have beenso musical: and _iisdem_ would have sounded ill. But custom hassanctioned our departing from strict rules for the sake ofeuphony; and I should prefer saying _pomeridianas quadrigas_ to_postmeridianas_, and _mehercule_ to _mehercules. Non scire_ alreadyappears a barbarism; _nescire_ is sweeter. The word _meridiem_ itself, why is it not _medidiem_?

I suppose because it sounded worse. There is one preposition, _abs_, which has now only an existence in account books; but in all otherconversation of every sort is changed: for we say _amovit_, and_abegit_, and _abstulit_, so that you cannot now tell whether _ab_ isthe correct form or _abs_. What shall we say if even _abfugit_ hasseemed inadmissible, and if men have discarded _abfer_ and preferred_aufer_? and that preposition is found in no word whatever exceptthese two verbs. There were the words _noti_, and _navi_, and _nari_, and when _in_ was forced to be prefixed to them, it seemed moremusical to say _ignoti, ignavi, ignari_, than to adhere to the strictrules. Men say _ex usu_ and _republicā_, because in the one phrase avowel followed the preposition, and in the other there would have beengreat harshness if you had not removed the consonant, as in _exegit, edixit, effecit, extulit, edidit_. And sometimes the preposition hassustained an alteration, regulated by the first letter of the verb towhich it is added, as _suffugit, summutavit, sustulit_. 

XLVIII. What are we to say of compound words? How neat is it tosay _insipientem_, not _insapientem_; _iniquum_, not _incequum_;_tricipitem_, not _tricapitem_; _concisum_, not concoesum! and, because of this last instance, some people wish also to say_pertisum_; but the same fashion which regulates the other changes, has not sanctioned this one. But what can be more elegant than this, which is not caused by nature, but by some regular usage?--we say_inclytus_, with the first letter short; _insanus_, with the firstletter long; _inkumanus_, with a short letter; _infelix_, with a longone: and, not to detain you with many examples, in those words inwhich the first letters are those which occur in _sapiente_ and_felice_, it is used long; in all others it is short. And so, too, wehave _composuit, consuevit, concrvpuit, confecit_. Consult the truth, it will reprove you; refer the matter to your ears, they will sanctionthe usage. Why so? Because they will say that that sound is the mostagreeable one to them; and an oration ought to consult that whichgives pleasure to the ears. Moreover, I myself, as I knew that ourancestors spoke so as never to use an aspirate except before a vowel, used to speak in this way: _pulcros, Cetegos, triumpos, Cartaginem_;when at last, and after a long time, the truth was forced upon me bythe admonition of my own ears, I yielded to the people the right ofsettling the rule of speaking; and was contented to reserve to myselfthe knowledge of the proper rules and reasons for them. Still we say_Orcivii_, and _Matones_ and _Otones, Coepiones, sepulchra, coronas, lacrymas_, because that pronunciation is always sanctioned by thejudgment of our ears. 

Ennius always used _Burrum_, never _Pyrrhum_: he says, --

"Vi patefecerunt Bruges;"

not _Phryges_; and so the old copies of his poems prove, for they hadno Greek letters in them. But now those words have two; and thoughwhen they wanted to say _Phrygum_ and _Phrygibus_, it was absurdeither to use a Greek character in the barbarous cases only, or elsein the nominative case alone to speak Greek, still we say _Phrygum_and _Phrygibus_ for the sake of harmonizing our ears. Moreover (atpresent it would seem like the language of a ploughman, thoughformerly it was a mark of politeness) our ancestors took away the lastletter of those words in which the two last letters were the same, asthey are in _optumus_, unless the next word began with a vowel. Andso they avoided offending the ear in their verse; as the modern poetsavoid it now in a different manner. For we used to say, --

"Qui est omnibu' princeps, " not "omnibus princeps;"

and--

"Vitā illā, dignu' locoquc, " not "dignus. "

But if unlettered custom is such an artist of euphony, what must wethink is required by scientific art and systematic learning?

I have put all this more briefly than if I were discussing this matterby itself; (for this topic is a very extensive one, concerning the useand nature of words;) but still I have been more prolix than the planI originally proposed to myself required. 

XLIX. But because the choice of subjects and words is in thedepartment of prudence, but of sounds and rhythm it is the ears thatare the judges; because the one is referable to one's understanding, the other only to one's pleasure; therefore in the one case it isreason and in the other sensation that has been the inventor of thesystem. For it was necessary for us either to disregard the pleasureof those men by whom we wished to be approved of; or else it wasnecessary to discover a system by which to gain their good-will. 

There are then two things which soothe the ears; _sound_ and _rhythm_. Concerning rhythm we will speak presently; at this moment we areinquiring into sound. As I said before, words must be selected whichas much as possible shall sound well; but they must not be, like thewords of a poet, sought purely for sound, but taken from ordinarylanguage. 

"Qua ponto a Helles"

is an extravagant expression; but

"Auratua aries Colehorum"

is a verse illuminated with splendid names. But the next verse ispolluted by ending with a most inharmonious letter;

"Frugifera et ferta arva Asiae tenet. "

Let us therefore use the propriety of words of our own language, rather than the brilliancy of the Greeks; unless perchance we areashamed of speaking in such a way as this--

"Quā tempestate Paris Helenam, "

and the rest of that sentence. Let us, I say, pursue that plan andavoid harshness of sound. 

 "Habeo istam ego perterricrepam. .. . Versutiloquas malitias. "

Nor is it enough to have one's words arranged in a regular system, butthe terminations of the sentences must be carefully studied, since wehave said that that is a second sort of judgment of the ears. But theharmonious end of a sentence depends on the arrangement itself, whichis so of its own accord, if I may so express myself, or on someparticular class of words in which there is a certain neatness; andwhether such words have cases the terminations of which are similar, or whether one word is matched with another which resembles it, orwhether contrary words are opposed to one another, they are harmoniousof their own nature, even if nothing has been done on purpose. In thepursuit of this sort of neatness Gorgias is reported to have been theleader; and of this style there is an example in our speech in defenceof Milo: "For this law, O judges, is not a written one, but a naturalone, one which we have not learnt, or received from others, orgathered from books; but which we have extracted, and pressed out, and imbibed from nature itself; it is one in which we have not beeneducated, but born; we have not been brought up in it, but imbued withit. For these sentences are such that, because they are referred tothe principles to which they ought to be referred, we see plainly thatharmony was not the thing that was sought in them, but that whichfollowed of its own accord. And this is also the case when contrariesare opposed to one another; as those phrases are by which not only aharmonious sentence, but even a verse is made. 

"Eam, quam nihil accusas, damnas. "

A man would say _condemnas_ if he wished to avoid making a verse. 

 "Bene quam meritam esse autumas, dicis male mereri. Id, quod scis, prodest nihil; id, quod nescis, obest. "

The very relation of the contrary effects makes a verse that would beharmonious in a narration. 

"Quod scis, nihil prodest; quod nescis, multum obest. "

These things, which the Greeks call [Greek: antitheta], as in themcontraries are opposed to contraries, of sheer necessity produceoratorical rhythm; and that too without any intention on the part ofthe orator that they should do so. 

This was a kind of speaking in which the ancients used to takedelight, even before the time of Isocrates; and especially Gorgias;in whose orations his very neatness generally produces an harmoniousrhythm. We too frequently employ this style; as in the fourth book ofour impeachment of Verres:--"Compare this peace with that war; thearrival of this praetor with the victory of that general; the debauchedretinue of this man, with the unconquerable army of the other; thelust of this man with the continence of that one; and you will saythat Syracuse was founded by the man who in reality took it; and wasstormed by this one, who in reality received it in an admirable andsettled condition. "

This sort of rhythm then must be well understood. 

L. We must now explain that third kind of an harmonious andwell-arranged speech, and say of what character it is; and what sortof ears those people have who do not understand its character, orindeed what there is in them that is like men at all, I do not know. My ears delight in a well-turned and properly finished period ofwords, and they like conciseness, and disapprove of redundancy. Whydo I say my ears? I have often seen a whole assembly raise a shout ofapproval at hearing a musical sentence. For men's ears expect thatsentences shall be strung together of well-arranged words. This wasnot the case in the time of the ancients. And indeed it was nearly theonly thing in which they were deficient: for they selected their wordscarefully, and they gave utterance to dignified and sweet soundingideas; but they paid little attention to arranging them or fillingthem up. "This is what delights me, " one of them would say. What arewe to say if an old primitive picture of few colours delights some menmore than this highly finished one? Why, I suppose, the style whichsucceeds must be studied again; and this latter style repudiated. 

People boast of the names of the ancients. But antiquity carriesauthority with it in precedents, as old age does in the lives ofindividuals; and it has indeed very great weight with me myself. Noram I more inclined to demand from antiquity that which it has not, than to praise that which it has; especially as I consider what it hasas of more importance than what it has not. For there is more good inwell chosen words and ideas in which they excel, than in the roundingoff of phrases in which they fail. It is after their time that theworking up of the termination of a sentence has been introduced; whichI think that those ancients would have employed, if it had been knownand employed in their day; as since it has been introduced we see thatall great orators have employed it. 

LI. But it looks like envy when what we call "number, " and the Greeks[Greek: ruthmos] is said to be employed in judicial and forensicoratory. For it appears like laying too many plots for the charmingof people's ears if rhythm is also aimed at by the orator in hisspeeches. And relying on this argument those critics themselves utterbroken and abrupt sentences, and blame those men who deliver wellrounded and neatly turned discourses. If they blame them because theirwords are ill adapted and their sentiments are trifling, they areright; but if their arguments are sound, their language well chosen, then why should they prefer a lame and halting oration to one whichkeeps pace with the sentiments contained in it? For this rhythm whichthey attack so has no other effect except to cause the speaker toclothe his ideas in appropriate language; and that was done by theancients also, not unusually by accident, and often by nature; andthose speeches of theirs which are exceedingly praised, are sogenerally because they are concisely expressed. And it is now nearfour hundred years since this doctrine has been established among theGreeks; we have only lately recognised it. Therefore was it allowablefor Ennius, despising the ancient examples, to say:--

 "In verses such as once the Fauns And ancient poets sang:"

and shall it not be allowed me to speak of the ancients in the samemanner? especially as I am not going to say, "Before this man . .. " ashe did; nor to proceed as he did, "We have ventured to open . .. " For Ihave read and heard of some speakers whose orations were rounded offin an almost perfect manner. And those who cannot do this are notcontent with not being despised; they wish even to be praised fortheir inability. But I do praise those men, and deservedly too, whoseimitators they profess to be; although I see something is wanting inthem. But these men I do not praise at all, who imitate nothing of theothers except their defects, and are as far removed as possible fromtheir good qualities. 

But if their own ears are so uncivilised and barbarous, will not theauthority of even the most learned men influence them? I say nothingof Isocrates, and his pupils Ephorus and Naucrates; although those menwho are themselves consummate orators ought also to be the highestauthorities on making and ornamenting a speech. But who of all menwas ever more learned, or more acute, or a more accurate judge ofthe discovery of, or decision respecting all things than Aristotle?Moreover, who ever took more pains to oppose Isocrates? Aristotlethen, while he warns us against letting verses occur in our speeches, enjoins us to attend to rhythm. His pupil Theodectes, one of the mostpolished of writers, (as Aristotle often intimates, ) and a greatartist, both felt and enjoined the same thing. And Theophrastus ismore distinct still in laying down the same rule. 

Who then can endure those men who do not agree with such authoritiesas these? Unless indeed they are ignorant that they ever gave any suchrules. And if that is the case, (and I really believe it is, ) whatthen? Have they no senses of their own to be guided by? Have they nonatural idea of what is useless? None of what is harsh, cramped, lame, or superfluous? When verses are being repeated, the whole theatreraises an outcry if there is one syllable too few or too many. Not that the mob knows anything about feet or metre; nor do theyunderstand what it is that offends them, or know why or in what itoffends them. But nevertheless nature herself has placed in our ears apower of judging of all superfluous length and all undue shortness insounds, as much as of grave and acute syllables. 

LII. Do you wish then, O Brutus, that we should give a more accurateexplanation of this whole topic, than those men themselves have donewho have delivered these and other rules to us? Or may we be contentwith those which have been delivered by them? But why do I ask whetheryou wish this? when I know from your letters, written in a mostscholar-like spirit, that you wish for it above all things. First ofall, then, the origin of a well-adapted and rhythmical oration shallbe explained, then the cause of it, then its nature, and last of allits use. 

For they who admire Isocrates above all things, place this among hisvery highest panegyrics, that he was the first person who added rhythmto prose writing. For they say that, as he perceived that orators werelistened to with seriousness, but poets with pleasure, he then aimedat rhythm so as to use it in his orations both for the sake of givingpleasure, and also that variety of sound might prevent weariness. Andthis is said by them in some degree correctly, but not wholly so. Forwe must confess that no one was ever more thoroughly skilled in thatsort of learning than Isocrates; but still the original inventor ofrhythm was Thrasymachus; all whose writings are even too carefullyrhythmical. For, as I said a little while ago, the principle of thingslike one another being placed side by side, sentence after sentencebeing ended in a similar manner, and contraries being comparedwith contraries, so that, even if one took no pains about it, mostsentences would end musically, was first discovered by Gorgias; but heused it without any moderation. And that is, as I have said beforeone of the three divisions of arrangement. Both of these men werepredecessors of Isocrates; so that it was in his moderation, not inhis invention, that he is superior to them. For he is more moderate inthe way in which he inverts or alters the sense of words; and also inhis attention to rhythm. But Gorgias is a more insatiable follower ofthis system, and (even according to his own admission) abuses theseelegances in an unprecedented way; but Isocrates (who while a youngman had heard Gorgias when he was an old man in Thessaly) put allthese things under more restraint. Moreover he himself, as he advancedin age, (and he lived nearly a hundred years, ) relaxed in his ideas ofthe exceeding necessity for rhythm; as he declares in that book whichhe wrote to Philip of Macedon, when he was a very old man, in which hesays 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 theauthors and originators of a well-adapted oration, and since itsorigin has been thus explained, we must now seek for the cause. And that is so evident, that I marvel that the ancients were notinfluenced by it; especially when, as is often the case, they often bychance made use of well-rounded and well-arranged periods. And whenthey had produced their impression on the minds and ears of men, so asto make it very plain that what chance had effected had been receivedwith pleasure, certainly they ought to have taken note of what hadbeen done, and have imitated themselves; for the ears, or the mind bythe report of the ears, contains in itself a natural measurementof all sounds. That is how it distinguishes between long and shortsounds; and always watches for well-wrought and moderate periods. Itfeels that some are mutilated and curtailed, as it were, and withthose it is offended, as if it were defrauded of its due; others itfeels to be too long, and running out to an immoderate length, andthose 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 excessis 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 inoratory, much later, indeed, but still in deference to the promptingsof 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 youplease, explain the nature of it; for that was the third division; andthat involves a discussion which has no reference to the original planof 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; andwhere it is placed; and in what it originates; and whether it is onething, or two, or more; and on what principles it is arranged; and forwhat purpose; and how and in what part it is situated, and in what wayit is employed so as to give any pleasure. 

But as in most cases, so also in this one, there are two ways oflooking 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 thereactually is any such thing as a rhythmical oration at all; (for somepersons do not think that there is, because there is not in oratoryany positive rule, as there is in verses, and because the people whoassert 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 ofrhythm it is; and whether it is of more than one kind; and whether itconsists of poetical rhythm, or of some other kind; and if it consistsof poetical rhythm, of which poetical rhythm, (for some think thatthere is but one sort of poetical rhythm, while others think there aremany kinds. ) In the next place, the question arises, whatever sorts ofrhythm there may be, whether one or more, whether they are common toevery kind of oratory, (since there is one kind used in narrating, another kind in persuading, and another in teaching, ) or whether thedifferent kinds are all adapted equally to every sort of oratory. Ifthe 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 therhythm less visible in a speech than in a verse? Besides, there is aquestion whether what is rhythmical in a speech is made so solely byrhythm, or also by some especial arrangement of words, or by the kindof words employed; or whether each division has its component parts, so that rhythm consists of intervals, arrangement of words, while thecharacter of the words themselves is visible being a sort of shapeand light of the speech; and whether arrangement is not the principalthing 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]. Butthat which is pleasant when uttered by the voice, and that which ismade perfect by careful regulation, and brilliant by the nature of thewords employed, are not one and the same thing, although they are bothakin to rhythm, because each is perfect of itself; but an arrangementdiffers from both, and is wholly dependent on the dignity or sweetnessof the language employed. 

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

LV. It is, then, not hard to know that there is a certain rhythm in aspeech: for the senses decide that. And it is absurd not to admit anevident fact, merely because we cannot find out why it happens. Andverse itself was not invented by _ą priori_ reasoning, but by natureand the senses, and these last were taught by carefully digestedreason what was the fact; and accordingly it was the careful noticingand observation of nature which produced art. 

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

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

And so on; for except when the flute-player is at hand to accompanythem, those verses are very like prose. But the iambics of the commonpoets are, on account of their likeness to ordinary conversation, veryoften in such a very low style, that sometimes it is hardly possibleto discover any metre, or even rhythm in them. And it may easily beunderstood that there is more difficulty in discovering the rhythm inan oration than in verses. 

Altogether there are two things which season oratory--the sweetness ofthe language, and the sweetness of the rhythm. In the language is thematerial, and in the rhythm the polish. But, as in other things, the older inventions are the children of necessity rather than ofpleasure; so also has it happened in this, that oratory was for manyages naked and unpolished, aiming only at expressing the meaningconceived in the mind of the speaker, before any system of rhythm forthe sake of tickling the ears was invented. 

LVI. Therefore Herodotus also, and his age, and the age preceding him, had no idea of rhythm, except at times by chance, as it seems. And thevery ancient writers have left us no rules at all about rhythm, thoughthey have given us many precepts about oratory. For that which is themore easy and the more necessary will always be the first thingknown. Therefore, words used in a metaphorical sense, or inverted, orcombined, were easily invented because they were derived from ordinaryuse, and from daily conversation. But rhythm was not drawn from aman's own house, nor had it any connexion of relationship to oratory. And therefore it was later in being noticed and observed, bringing asit did the last touch and lineaments to oratory. But if there isone style of oratory narrow and concise, and another more vague anddiffuse, that must clearly be owing, not to the nature of letters, but to the difference between long and short paragraphs; because anoration made up and compounded of these two kinds is sometimessteady, sometimes fluent, and so each character must be kept up bycorresponding rhythm. For that circuitous way of speaking, which wehave often mentioned already, goes on more impetuously, and hurriesalong, until it can arrive at its end, and come to a stop. It is quiteplain, therefore, that oratory ought to be confined to rhythm, andkept clear of metre. 

But the next question is, whether this rhythm is poetical, or whetherit is of some other kind. There is, then, no rhythm whatever thatis not poetical; because the different kinds of rhythm are clearlydefined. For all rhythm is one of three kinds. For the foot whichis employed in rhythm is divided into three classes; so that it isnecessary that one part of the foot must be either equal to the otherpart, or as large again, or half as large again. Accordingly, thedactyl is of the first class, the paeon of the last, the iambic of thesecond. And how is it possible to avoid such feet in an oration?And then when they are arranged with due consideration rhythm isunavoidably produced. 

But the question arises, what rhythm is to be employed; eitherabsolutely, or in preference to others. But that every kind of rhythmis at times suitable to oratory, may be seen from this, --that inspeaking we often make a verse without intending it, (which, however, is a great fault, but we do not notice it, nor do we hear what we sayourselves;) and as for iambics, whether regular or Hipponactean, thosewe can scarcely avoid, for our common conversation often consists ofiambics. But still the hearer easily recognises those verses, for theyare the most usual ones. But at times we unintentionally let fallothers which are less usual, but which still are verses; and that is afaulty style of oratory, and one which requires to be guarded againstwith great care. 

Hieronymus, a Peripatetic of the highest character, out of all thenumerous compositions of Isocrates, picked out about thirty verses, chiefly iambics, but some also anapaests. And what can be worse?Though in picking them out he acted in an unfair manner, for he tookaway sometimes the first syllable in the first word of a sentence; andagain, he sometimes added to the last word the first syllable of thefollowing sentence. And in this way he made that sort of anapaest whichis called the Aristophanic anapaest. And such accidents as thesecannot be guarded against, nor do they signify. But still this critic, in the very passage in which he finds this fault with him, (as Inoticed when I was examining his work very closely, ) himself makesan iambic without knowing it. This, then, may be considered as anestablished point, that there is rhythm also in prose, and thatoratorical is the same as the poetical rhythm. 

LVII. It remains, therefore, for us to consider what rhythm occursmost naturally in a well-arranged oration. For some people think thatit is the iambic rhythm, because that is the most like a speech, on which account it happens that it is most frequently employed infables, because of its resemblance to reality--because the dactylichexameter rhythm is better suited to a lofty and magniloquent subjectBut Ephorus himself, an inconsiderable orator, though coming from anexcellent school, inclines to the paeon, or dactyl, but avoids thespondee and trochee. For because the paeon has three short syllablesand the dactyl two, he thinks that the words come more trippinglyoff on account of the shortness and rapidity of utterance of thesyllables; and that a contrary effect is produced by the spondee andtrochee, because the one consists of long syllables and the other ofshort ones; so that a speech made up of the one is too much hurried, it made up of the other is too slow; and neither is well, regulated. But those accents are all in the wrong, and Ephorus is wholly infault. For those who pass over the paeon, do not perceive that a mostdelicate, and at the same time most dignified rhythm is passed over bythem. But Aristotle's opinion is very different, for he considers thatthe heroic rhythm is a grander one than is admissible in prose, andthat an iambic is too like ordinary conversation. Accordingly, he doesnot approve of a style which is lowly and abject, or of one which istoo lofty and, as it were, on stilts: but still he wishes for one fullof dignity, in order to strike those who hear it with the greateradmiration. But he calls a trochee, which occupies the same time as achoreus, [Greek: kordax], because its contracted and brief characteris devoid of dignity. Accordingly, he approves of the paeon; and saysthat all men employ it, but that all men are not themselves aware whenthey do employ it; and that there is a third or middle way betweenthose two, but that those feet are formed in such a way, that in everyone of them there is either a time, or a time and a half, or twotimes. Therefore, those men of whom I have spoken have consideredconvenience only, and disregarded dignity. For the iambic and thedactyl are those which are most usually employed in verse; and, therefore, as we avoid verses in making speeches, so also a recurrenceof these feet must be avoided. For oratory is a different thing frompoetry, nor are there any two things more contrary to one another thanthat is to verses. But the paeon is that foot which, of all others, isleast adapted to verse, on which account oratory admits it the morewillingly. But Ephorus will not even admit that the spondee, which hecondemns, is equivalent to the dactyl, which he approves of. For hethinks that feet ought to be measured by their syllables, not by theirquantity; and he does the same in regard to the trochee, which in itsquantity and times is equivalent to an iambic; but which is a fault inan oration, if it be placed at the end, because a sentence ends betterwith a long syllable. 

And all this, which is also contained in Aristotle, is said byTheophrastus and Theodectes about the paeon. But my opinion is, thatall feet ought to be jumbled together and confused, as it were, in anoration; and that we could not escape blame if we were always to usethe same feet; because an oration ought to be neither metrical, likea poem, nor inharmonious, like the conversation of the common people. The one is so fettered by rules that it is manifest that it isdesignedly arranged as we see it; the other is so loose as to appearordinary and vulgar; so that you are not pleased with the one, and youhate the other. 

Let oratory then be, as I have said above, mingled and regulated witha regard to rhythm; not prosaic, nor on the other hand sacrificedwholly to rhythm; composed chiefly of the paeon, (since that is theopinion of the wisest author on the subject, ) with many of the otherfeet which he passes over intermingled with it. 

LVIII. But what feet ought to be mingled with others, like purple, must be now explained; and we must also show to what kind of speecheach sort of foot and rhythm is the best adapted. For the iambic ismost frequent in those orations which are composed in a humble andlowly style; but the paeon is suited to a more dignified style; and thedactyl to both. Therefore, in a varied and long-continued speech thesefeet should be mingled together and combined. And in this way the factof the orator aiming at pleasing the senses, and the careful attemptto round off the speech, will be the less visible, and they will atall times be less apparent if we employ dignified expressions andsentiments. For the hearers observe these two things, and think themagreeable: (I mean, expressions and sentiments. ) And while they listento them with admiring minds, the rhythm escapes their notice; and evenif it were wholly wanting they would still be delighted with thoseother things. 

Nor indeed is the rhythm, I mean in a speech, (for the case as toverse is very different, ) so exacting that nothing may ever beexpressed except according to rule; for then it would be a poem. Butevery oration which does not halt or if I may so say, fluctuate, andwhich proceeds on with an equal and consistent pace, is consideredrhythmical. And it is considered rhythmical in the delivery; notbecause it consists wholly of some regular rhythm; but because itcomes as near to a musical rhythm as possible: on which account it ismore difficult to make a speech than to make verses; because theselast have certain definite rules which it is necessary to follow; but, in speaking, there is nothing settled, except that the speech mustnot be intemperate, or too compressed, or prosaic, or too fluent. Therefore there are no regular bars in it as a flute-player has; butthe whole principle and system of an oration is regulated by generalrules of universal application; and they are judged of on theprinciple of pleasing the ear. 

LIX. But people often ask, whether in every portion of a paragraph itis necessary to have a regard to rhythm, or whether it is sufficientto do so at the beginning and end of a sentence. For many people thinkthat it is sufficient for a sentence to end and be wound up in arhythmical manner. But although that is the main point, it is not theonly one; for the sounding of the periods is only to be laid aside, not to be thrown away. And therefore, as men's ears are always on thewatch for the end of a sentence, and are greatly influenced by that, that certainly ought never to be devoid of rhythm; but harmony oughtto pervade the whole sentence from beginning to end; and the wholeought to proceed from the beginning so naturally that the end shall beconsistent with every previous part. But that will not be difficultto men who have been trained in a good school, who have written manythings, and who have made also all the speeches which they havedelivered without written papers like written speeches. For thesentence is first composed in the mind; and then words comeimmediately: and then they are immediately sent forth by the mind, than which nothing is more rapid in its movements; so that each fallsinto its proper place. And then their regular order is settled bydifferent terminations in different sentences; and all the expressionsat the beginning and in the middle of the sentence ought to becomposed with reference to the end. For sometimes the torrent of anoration is rapid; sometimes its progress is moderate; so that from thevery beginning one can see how one wishes to come to the end. Nor isit in rhythm more than in the other embellishments of a speech that webehave exactly as poets do; though still, in an oration, we avoid allresemblance to a poem. 

LX. For there is in both oratory and poetry, first of all thematerial, then the execution. The material consists in the words, the execution in the arrangement of the words. But there are threedivisions of each, --of words there is the metaphorical, the new, andthe old-fashioned; for of appropriate words we say nothing atpresent; but of arrangement there are those which we have mentioned, composition, neatness, and rhythm. But the poets are the most freeand frequent in the use of each; for they use words in a metaphoricalsense not only more frequently, but also more daringly; and they useold-fashioned words more willingly, and new ones more freely. And thecase with respect to rhythm is the same; in which they are obligedto comply with a kind of necessity: but still these things must beunderstood as being neither too different, nor yet in any respectunited. Accordingly we find that rhythm is not the same in an orationas in a poem; and that that which is pronounced to be rhythmical in anoration is not always effected by a strict attention to the rules ofrhythm; but sometimes either by neatness, or by the casual arrangementof the words. 

Accordingly, if the question is raised as to what is the rhythm of anoration, it is every sort of rhythm; but one sort is better and moresuitable than another. If the question is, what is the place of thisrhythm? it is in every portion of the words. If you ask where it hasarisen; it has arisen from the pleasure of the ears. If the principleis sought on which the words are to be arranged; that will beexplained in another place, because that relates to practice, whichwas the fourth and last division which we made of the subject. Ifthe question is, when; always: if, in what place; it consists inthe entire connexion of the words. If we are asked, What is thecircumstance which causes pleasure? we reply, that it is the sameas in verse; the method of which is determined by art; but the earsthemselves define it by their own silent sensations, without anyreference to principles of art. 

LXI. We have said enough of the nature of it. The practice follows;and that we must discuss with greater accuracy. And in this discussioninquiry has been made, whether it is in the whole of that rounding ofa sentence which the Greeks call [Greek: periodos], and which we call"_ambitus_" or "_circuitus_, " or "_comprehensio_" or "_continuatio_"or "_circumscriptio_, " or in the beginning only, or in the end, orin both, that rhythm must be maintained? And, in the next place, asrhythm appears one thing and a rhythmical sentence another, what isthe difference between them? and again, whether it is proper forthe divisions of a sentence to be equal in every sort of rhythm, orwhether we should make some shorter and some longer; and if so, when, and why, and in what parts; whether in many or in one; whether inunequal or equal ones; and when we are to use one, and when the other;and what words may be most suitably combined together, and how; orwhether there is absolutely no distinction; and, what is most materialto the subject of all things, by what system oratory may be maderhythmical. We must also explain from whence such a form of words hasarisen; and we must explain what periods it may be becoming to make, and we must also discuss their parts and sections, if I may so callthem; and inquire whether they have all one appearance and length, ormore than one; and if many, in what place; or when we may use them, and what kinds it is proper to use; and, lastly, the utility of thewhole kind is to be explained, which indeed is of wider application;for it is adapted not to any one particular thing, but to many. 

And a man may, without giving replies on each separate point, speak ofthe entire genus in such a way that his answer may appear sufficientas to the whole matter. Leaving, therefore, the other kinds out of thequestion, we select this one, which is conversant with actions and theforum, concerning which we will speak. 

Therefore in other kinds, that is to say, in history and in that kindof argument which we call [Greek: epideiktikon], it seems goodthat everything should be said after the example of Isocrates andTheopompus, with that sort of period and rounding of a sentence thatthe oration shall run on in a sort of circle, until it stops inseparate, perfect, and complete sentences. Therefore after this_circumscriptio_, or _continuatio_, or _comprehensio_, or _ambitus_, if we may so call it, was once introduced, there was no one of anyconsideration who ever wrote an oration of that kind which wasintended only to give pleasure, and unconnected with judicialproceedings or forensic contests, who did not reduce almost all hissentences to a certain set form and rhythm. For, as his hearers aremen who have no fear that their own good faith is being attempted tobe undermined by the snare of a well-arranged oration, they are evengrateful to the orator for studying so much to gratify their ears. 

LXII. But this kind of oratory is neither to be wholly appropriatedto forensic causes, nor is it entirely to be repudiated. For ifyou constantly employ it, when it has produced weariness then evenunskilful people can recognise its character. Besides, it takes awaythe indignation which is intended to be excited by the pleading; ittakes away the manly sensibility of the pleader; it wholly puts anend to all truth and good faith. But since it ought to be employed attimes, first of all, we should see in what place; secondly, how longit is to be maintained; and lastly, in how many ways it may be varied. We must, then, employ a rhythmical oratory, if we have occasion eitherto praise anything in an ornate style, --as we ourselves spoke in thesecond book of our impeachment of Verres concerning the praise ofSicily; and in the senate, of my own consulship; or a narration mustbe delivered which requires more dignity than indignation, --as in thefourth book of that same impeachment we spoke concerning the Ceres ofEnna, the Diana of Segeste, and the situation of Syracuse. Oftenalso when employed in amplifying a case, an oration is poured forthharmoniously and volubly with the approbation of all men. That perhapswe have never quite accomplished; but we have certainly very oftenattempted it; as our perorations in many places show that we have, andindeed that we have been very eager to effect it. But this is mosteffective when the hearer is already blockaded, as it were, and takenprisoner by the speaker. For he then no longer thinks of watching andguarding against the orator, but he is already on his side; and wisheshim to proceed, admitting the force of his eloquence, and neverthinking of looking for anything with which to find fault. 

But this style is not to be maintained long; I do not mean in theperoration which it concludes, but in the other divisions of thespeech. For when the orator has employed those topics which I haveshown to be admissible, then the whole of his efforts must betransferred to what the Greeks call, I know not why, [Greek: kommata]and [Greek: kola], and which we may translate, though not verycorrectly, "incisa" and "membra. " For there cannot be well-knownnames given to things which are not known; but when we use words in ametaphorical sense, either for the sake of sweetness or because of thepoverty of the language, this result takes place in every art, thatwhen we have got to speak of that which, on account of our ignoranceof its existence, had no name at all previously, necessity compelsus either to coin a new word, or to borrow a name from somethingresembling it. 

LXIII. But we will consider hereafter in what way sentences ought tobe expressed in short clauses or members. At present we must explainin how many ways those different conclusions and terminations may bechanged. Rhythm flows in from the beginning, at first more rapidly, from the shortness of the feet employed, and afterwards more slowly asthey increase in length. Disputes require rapidity; slowness is bettersuited to explanations. But a period is terminated in many ways; oneof which has gained especial favour in Asia, which is called the_dichoreus_, when the two last feet are _chorei_, consisting each ofone long and one short syllable; for we must explain that the samefeet have different names given them by different people. Now thatdichoreus is not inherently defective as part of a clause, but in therhythm of an orator there is nothing so vicious as to have the samething constantly recurring. By itself now and then it sounds verywell, on which account we have the more reason to guard againstsatiety. I was present when Caius Carbo, the son of Caius, a tribuneof the people, uttered these words in the assembly of the people:

"O Maree Druse, patrem appello. "

Here are two clauses, each of two feet. Then he gave us some moreperiods:

"Tu dicere solebas, sacram esse rempublicam. "

Here each clause consists of three feet. Then comes the conclusion:

"Quicunque eam violavissent ab omnibus esse ei poenas persolutas. "

Here is the dichoreus;--for it does not signify whether the lastsyllable is long or short. Then comes, "Patris dictum sapiens, temeritas filii comprobavit. "

And this last dichoreus excited such an outcry as to be quitemarvellous. I ask, was it not the rhythm which caused it? Change theorder of the words; let them stand thus:

"Comprobavit filii temeritas:"

there will be no harm in that, though _temeritas_ consists of threeshort syllables and one long one; which Aristotle considers as thebest sort of word to end a sentence, in which I do not agree with him. But still the words are the same, and the meaning is the same. That isenough for the mind, but not enough for the ears. But this ought notto be done too often. For at first rhythm is acknowledged; presentlyit wearies; afterwards, when the ease with which it is produced isknown, it is despised. 

LXIV. But there are many little clauses which sound rhythmically andagreeably. For there is the cretic, which consists of a long syllable, then a short one, then a long; and there is its equivalent the paeon;which is equal in time, but longer by one syllable; and which isconsidered a very convenient foot to be used in prose, as it is of twokinds. For it consists either of one long syllable and three shortones, which rhythm is admirable at the beginning of a sentence, butlanguid at the end; or of three short syllables and then the long one, which the ancients consider the most musical foot of the two: I do notobject to it; though there are other feet which I prefer. Even thespondee is not utterly to be repudiated; although, because it consistsof two long syllables, it appears somewhat dull and slow; still ithas a certain steady march not devoid of dignity; but much more is itvaluable in short clauses and periods; for then it makes up for thefewness of the feet by its dignified slowness. But when I am speakingof these feet as occurring in clauses, I do not speak of the onefoot which occurs at the end; I add (which however is not of muchconsequence) the preceding foot, and very often even the foot beforethat. Even the iambic, which consists of one short and one longsyllable; or that foot which is equal to the choreus, having threeshort syllables, being therefore equal in time though not in thenumber of syllables; or the dactyl, which consists of one long and twoshort syllables, if it is next to the last foot, joins that foot verytrippingly, if it is a choreus or a spondee. For it never makes anydifference which of these two is the last foot of a sentence. Butthese same three feet end a sentence very badly if one of them isplaced at the end, unless the dactyl comes at the end instead of acretic; for it does not signify whether the dactyl or the cretic comesat the end, because it does not signify even in verse whether the lastsyllable of all is long or short. Wherefore, whoever said that thatpaeon was more suitable in which the last syllable was long, made agreat mistake; since it has nothing to do with the matter whether thelast syllable is long or not. And indeed the paeon, as having moresyllables than three, is considered by some people as a rhythm, andnot a foot at all. It is, as is agreed upon by all the ancients, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Theodectes, and Ephorus, the most suitableof all for an oration, either at the beginning or in the middle; theythink that it is very suitable for it at the end also; in which placethe cretic appears to me to be better. But a dochmiac consists offive syllables, one short, two long, one short, and one long; asthus:--_[)A]m[=i]c[=o]s t[)e]n[=e]s_; and is suitable for any partof the speech, as long as it is used only once. If repeated or oftenrenewed it then makes the rhythm conspicuous and too remarkable. Ifwe use these changes, numerous and varied as they are, it will not beseen how much of our rhythm is the result of study, and we shall avoidwearying our hearers. 

LXV. And because it is not only rhythm which makes a speechrhythmical, but since that effect is produced also by the arrangementof the words, and by a kind of neatness, as has been said before, itmay be understood by the arrangement when words are so placed thatrhythm does not appear to have been purposely aimed at, but to haveresulted naturally, as it is said by Crassus:--

"Nam ubi libido dominatur innocentiae leve praesidium est. "

For here the order of the words produces rhythm without any apparentdesign on the part of the orator. Therefore, the suitable andrhythmical sentences which occur in the works of the ancients, I meanHerodotus, and Thucydides, and all the writers of that age, wereproduced, not by any deliberate pursuit of rhythm, but by thearrangement of the words. For there are some forms of oratory in whichthere is so much neatness, that rhythm unavoidably follows. For whenlike is referred to like, or contrary opposed to contrary, or whenwords which sound alike are compared to other words, whatever sentenceis wound up in that manner must usually sound rhythmically. And ofthis kind of sentence we have already spoken and given instances, sothat this abundance of kinds enables a man to avoid always ending asentence in the same manner. 

Nor are these rules so strict and precise that we are unable to relaxthem when we wish to. It makes a great difference whether an orationis rhythmical--that is to say, like rhythm--or whether it consists ofnothing but rhythm. If it is the latter, that is an intolerable fault;if it is not the former, then it is unconnected, and barbarous, andlanguid. 

LXVI. But since it is not only not a frequent occurrence, but actuallyeven a rare one, that we ought to speak in compressed and rhythmicalperiods, in serious or forensic causes, it appears to follow that weought to consider what these clauses and short members which I havespoken of are. For in serious causes they occupy the greater part ofthe speech. For a full and perfect period consists of four divisions, which we call members, so as to fill the ears, and not be eithershorter or longer than is just sufficient. Although each of thosedefects does happen sometimes, or indeed often, so that it isnecessary either to stop abruptly, or else to proceed further, lestour brevity should appear to have cheated the ears of our hearers, orour prolixity to have exhausted them. But I prefer a middle course;for I am not speaking of verse, and oratory is not so much confined. Afull period, then, consists of four divisions, like hexameter verses. In each of these verses, then, there are visible the links, as itwere, of the connected series which we unite in the conclusion. But ifwe choose to speak in a succession of short clauses, we stop, and whenit is necessary, we easily and frequently separate ourselves from thatsort of march which is apt to excite dislike; but nothing ought tobe so rhythmical as this, which is the least visible and the mostefficacious. Of this kind is that sentence which was spoken byCrassus:--

"Missos faciant patronos; ipsi prodeant. "

If he had not paused before "ipsi prodeant, " he would have at onceseen that an iambic had escaped him, --"prodeant ipsi" would sound inevery respect better. But at present I am speaking of the whole kind. 

 "Cur clandestinis consiliis nos oppugnant? Cur de perfugis nostris copias comparant inter nos?"

The first two are such sentences as the Greeks call [Greek: kommata], and we "incisa. " The third is such as they term [Greek: kolon], and we"membrum. " Then comes a short clause; for a perfect conclusion is madeup of two verses, that is to say members, and falls into spondees. AndCrassus was very much in the habit of employing this termination, andI myself have a good opinion of this style of speaking. 

LXVII. But those sentiments which are delivered in short clauses, ormembers, ought to sound very harmoniously, as in a speech of mine youwill find:--

"Domus tibi deerat? at habebas. Pecunia superabat? at egebas. "

These four clauses are as concise as can be; but then come the twofollowing sentences uttered in members:--

"Incurristi amens in columnas: in alienos insanus insanīsti. "

After these clauses everything is sustained by a longer class ofsentences, as if they were erected on these as their pedestal:--

"Depressam, caecam, jacentem domum pluris, quam te, et quam fortunastuas, aestimāsti. "

It is ended with a dichoreus; but the next sentence terminates with adouble spondee. For in those feet which speakers should use at timeslike little daggers, the very brevity makes the feet more free. For weoften must use them separately, often two together, and a part of afoot may be added to each foot, but not often in combinations ofmore than three. But an oration when delivered in brief clauses andmembers, is very forcible in serious causes, especially when youare accusing or refuting an accusation, as in my second Cornelianspeech:--

"O callidos homines! O rem excogitatam! O ingenia metuenda!"

Hitherto this is spoken in members. After that we spoke in shortclauses. Then again in members:--

"Testes dare volumus. "

At last comes the conclusion, but one made up of two members, thanwhich nothing can be more concise:--

"Quem, quaeso, nostrūm fefellit, ita vos esse facturos?"

Nor is there any style of speaking more lively or more forcible thanthat which strikes with two or three words, sometimes with singlewords; very seldom with more than two or three, and among thesevarious clauses there is occasionally inserted a rhythmical period. And Hegesias, who perversely avoided this usage, while seeking toimitate Lysias, who is almost a second Demosthenes, dividing hissentences into little bits, was more like a dancer than an orator. Andhe, indeed, errs not less in his sentences than in his single words, so that a man who knows him has no need to look about for someone whom he may call foolish. But I have cited those sentences ofCrassus's and my own, in order that whoever chose might judge by hisown ears what was rhythmical even in the most insignificant portionsof a speech. And since we have said more about rhythmical oratorythan any one of those who have preceded us, we will now speak of theusefulness of that style. 

LXVIII. For speaking beautifully and like an orator is, O Brutus, nothing else (as you, indeed, know better than any one) exceptspeaking with the most excellent sentiments and in the most carefullyselected language. And there is no sentiment which produces any fruitto an orator, unless it is expressed in a suitable and polishedmanner. Nor is there any brilliancy of words visible unless theyare carefully arranged; and rhythm it is which sets off both theseexcellences. But rhythm (for it is well to repeat this frequently) isnot only not formed in a poetical manner, but even avoids poetry, andis as unlike it as possible. Not but that rhythm is the same thing, not only in the writings of orators and poets, but even in theconversation of every one who speaks, and in every imaginable soundwhich we can measure with our ears. But it is the order of the feetwhich makes that which is uttered appear like an oration or likea poem. And this, whether you choose to call it composition, orperfection, or rhythm, must be employed if a man wishes to speakelegantly, not only (as Aristotle and Theophrastus say) that thediscourse may not run on interminably like a river, but that it maycome to a stop as it ought, not because the speaker wants to takebreath, or because the copyist puts down a stop, but because it iscompelled to do so by the restrictions of rhythm, and also because acompact style has much greater force than a loose one. For as we seeathletes, and in a similar manner gladiators, act cautiously, neitheravoiding nor aiming at anything with too much vehemence, (forover-vehement motions can have no rule;) so that whatever they do ina manner advantageous for their contest, may also have a graceful andpleasing appearance; in like manner oratory does not strike a heavyblow, unless the aim was a well-directed one; nor does it avoid theattack of the adversary successfully, unless even when turning asidethe blow it is aware of what is becoming. And therefore the speechesof those men who do not end their sentences rhythmically seem to melike the motions of those whom the Greeks call [hapalaistrous]. And itis so far from being the case, (as those men say who, either from awant of proper instructors, or from the slowness of their intellect, or from an unwillingness to exert due industry, have not arrived atthis skill, ) that oratory is enervated by too much attention to thearrangement of words, that without it there can be no energy and noforce. 

LXIX. But the matter is one which requires much practice, lest weshould do anything like those men who, though they have aimed at thisstyle, have not attained it; so that we must not openly transpose ourwords in order to make our language sound better; a thing which LuciusCoelius Antipater, in the opening of his history of the Punic War, promises not to do unless it should be absolutely necessary. Oh thesimple man! to conceal nothing from us; and at the same time wise, inasmuch as he is prepared to comply with necessity. But still this isbeing too simple. But in writing or in sober discussion the excuse ofnecessity is not admissible, for there is no such thing as necessity;and if there were, it would still be necessary not to admit it. Andthis very man who demands this indulgence of Laelius, to whom he iswriting, and to whom he is excusing himself, uses this transpositionof words, and yet does not fill up and conclude his sentences any themore skilfully. Among others, and especially among the Asiatics, whoare perfect slaves to rhythm, you may find many superfluous wordsinserted, as if on purpose to fill up vacancies in rhythm. Thereare men also, who through that fault, which originated chiefly withHegesias, by breaking up abruptly, and cutting short their rhythm, have fallen into an abject style of speaking, very much like that ofthe Sicilians. There is a third kind adopted by those brothers, thechiefs of the Asiatic rhetoricians, Hierocles and Maecles, men who arenot at all to be despised, in my opinion at least. For although theydo not quite keep to the real form of oratory and to the principlesof the Attic orators, still they make amends for this fault by theirability and fluency. Still there was no variety in them, becausenearly all their sentences were terminated in one manner. 

But a man who avoids all these faults, so as neither to transposewords in such a manner that every one must see that it is done onpurpose, nor cramming in unnecessary words, as if to fill up leaks, nor aiming at petty rhythm, so as to mutilate and emasculate hissentences, and who does not always stick to one kind of rhythm withoutany variation, such a man avoids nearly every fault. For we have saida good deal on the subject of perfections, to which these manifestdefects are contrary. 

LXX. But how important a thing it is to speak harmoniously, you mayknow by experience if you dissolve the carefully-contrived arrangementof a skilful orator by a transposition of his words; for then thewhole thing would be spoilt, as in this instance of our language inthe Cornelian oration, and in all the following sentences:--

"Neque me divitiae movent, quibus omnes Africanos et Laelios milt, venalitii mercatoresque superārunt. "

Change the order a little, so that the sentence shall stand, "Multi superārunt mercatores venalitiique, "

and the whole effect is lost. And the subsequent sentences:

"Neque vestis, ant caelatum aurum et argentum, quo nostros veteresMarcellos Maximosque multi eunuchi e Syriā aegyptoque vicerunt. "

Alter the order of the words, so that they shall stand, "Vicerunt eunuchi e Syriā aegyptoque. "

Take this third sentence:--

"Neque vero ornamenta ista villarum, quibus Lucium Paullum et LuciumMummium, qui rebus his urbem Italiamque omnem referserunt, ab aliquovideo perfacile Deliaco aut Syro potuisse superari. "

Place the words thus:--

"Potuisse superari ab aliquo Syro aut Deliaco. "

Do you not see that by making this slight change in the order of thewords, the very same words (though the sense remains as it was before)lose all their effect the moment they are disjoined from those whichwere best suited to them?

Or if you take any carelessly-constructed sentence of any unpolishedorator, and reduce it into proper shape, by making a slight alterationin the order of his words, then that will be made harmonious whichwas before loose and unmethodical Come now, take a sentence from thespeech of Gracchus before the censors:--

"Obesse non potest, quin ejusdem hominis sit, probos improbare, quiimprobos probet. "

How much better would it have been if he had said, "Quin ejusdem hominis sit, qui improbos probet, probos improbare!"

No one ever had any objection to speaking in this manner; and no onewas ever able to do so who did not do it. But those who have spoken ina different manner have not been able to arrive at this excellence. And so on a sudden they have set up for orators of the Attic school. As if Demosthenes was a man of Tralles; but even his thunderboltswould not have shone so if they had not been pointed by rhythm. 

LXXI. But if there be any one who prefers a loose style of oratory, let him cultivate it; keeping in view this principle, --if any one wereto take to pieces the shield of Phidias, he would destroy the beautyof the collective arrangement, not the exquisite workmanship of eachfragment: and as in Thucydides I only miss the roundness of hisperiods; all the graces of style are there. But these men, whenthey compose a loose oration, in which there is no matter, and noexpression which is not a low one, appear to me to be taking topieces, not a shield, but, as the proverb says, (which, though but alow one, is still very apt, ) only a broom. And in order that there maybe no mistake as to their contempt of this style which I am praising, let them write something either in the style of Isocrates, or in thatwhich Aeschines or Demosthenes employs, and then I will believe thatthey have not shrunk from this style out of despair of being able toarrive at it, but that they have avoided it deliberately on account oftheir bad opinion of it: or else I will find a man myself who may bewilling to be bound by this condition, --either to say or write, inwhichever language you please, in the style which those men prefer. For it is easier to disunite what is connected than to connect what isdisjointedly strung together. 

However, the fact is, (to be brief in explaining my real opinion, ) tospeak in a well-arranged and suitable manner without good ideas is toact like a madman. But to speak in a sententious manner, without anyorder or method in one's language, is to behave like a child: butstill it is childishness of that sort, that those who employ it cannotbe considered stupid men, and indeed may often be accounted wise men. And if a man is contented with that sort of character, why let himspeak in that way. But the eloquent man, who, if his subject willallow it, ought to excite not only approbation, but admiration andloud applause, ought to excel in everything to such a degree, thathe should think it discreditable that anything should be beheld orlistened to more gladly than his speech. 

You have here, O Brutus, my opinion respecting an orator. If youapprove of it, follow it; or else adhere to your own, if you haveformed any settled opinion on the subject. And I shall not be offendedwith you, nor will I affirm that this opinion of mine which I haveasserted so positively in this book is more correct than yours; for itis possible not only that my opinion should be different from yours, but even that my own may be different at different times. And notonly in this matter, which has reference to gaining the assent of thecommon people and to the pleasure of the ears, which are two of themost unimportant points as far as judgment is concerned; but even inthe most important affairs, I have never found anything firmer to takehold of, or to guide my judgment by, than the extremity of probabilityas it appeared to me, when actual truth was hidden or obscure. 

But I wish that you, if you do not approve entirely of the thingswhich I have urged in this treatise, would believe either that Iproposed to myself a work of too great difficulty for me to accomplishproperly, or else that, while wishing to comply with your request, Iundertook the impudent task of writing this, from being ashamed torefuse you. 

THE TREATISE OF M. T. CICERO ON TOPICS, DEDICATED TO CAIUS TREBATIUS. 

 * * * * *

THE ARGUMENT. 

This treatise was written a short time before the events which gaverise to the first Philippic. Cicero obtained an honorary lieutenancy, with the intention of visiting his son at Athens; on his way towardsRhegium he spent an evening at Velia with Trebatius, where he beganthis treatise, which he finished at sea, before he arrived in Greece. It is little more than an abstract of what had been written byAristotle on the same subject, and which Trebatius had begged him toexplain to him; and Middleton says, that as he had not Aristotle'sessay with him, he drew this up from memory, and he appears to havefinished it in a week, as it was the nineteenth of July that he wasat Velia, and he sent this work to Trebatius from Rhegium on thetwenty-seventh. He himself apologizes to Trebatius in the letter whichaccompanied it, (Ep. Fam. Vii. 19, ) for its obscurity, which however, he says, was unavoidably caused by the nature of the subject. 

I. We had begun to write, O Caius Trebatius, on subjects moreimportant and more worthy of these books, of which we have published asufficient number in a short time, when your request recalled me frommy course. For when you were with me in my Tusculan villa, and wheneach of us was separately in the library opening such books as weresuited to our respective tastes and studies, you fell on a treatise ofAristotle's called the Topics; which he has explained in many books;and, excited by the title, you immediately asked me to explain to youthe doctrines laid down in those books. And when I had explained themto you, and told you that the system for the discovery of argumentswas contained in them, in order that we might arrive, without makingany mistake, at the system on which they rested by the way discoveredby Aristotle, you urged me, modestly indeed, as you do everything, but still in a way which let me plainly see your eagerness to begratified, to make you master of the whole of Aristotle's method. And when I exhorted you, (not so much for the sake of saving myselftrouble, as because I really thought it advantageous for youyourself, ) either to read them yourself, or to get the whole systemexplained to you by some learned rhetorician, you told me that you hadalready tried both methods. But the obscurity of the subject deterredyou from the books; and that illustrious rhetorician to whom you hadapplied answered you, I suppose, that he knew nothing of these rulesof Aristotle. And this I was not so much surprised at, namely, thatthat philosopher was not known to the rhetorician, inasmuch as he isnot much known even to philosophers, except to a very few. 

And such ignorance is the less excusable in them, because theynot only ought to have been allured by those things which he hasdiscovered and explained, but also by the incredible richness andsweetness of his eloquence. I could not therefore remain any longer inyour debt, since you often made me this request, and yet appeared tofear being troublesome to me, (for I could easily see that, ) lest Ishould appear unjust to him who is the very interpreter of the law. In truth, as you had often written many things for me and mine, I wasafraid that if I delayed obliging you in this, it would appear veryungrateful or very arrogant conduct on my part. But while we weretogether, you yourself are the best witness of how I was occupied; butafter I left you, on my way into Greece, when neither the republicnor any friends were occupying my attention, and when I could nothonourably remain amid the armies, (not even if I could have done sosafely, ) as soon as I came to Velia and beheld your house and yourfamily, I was reminded of this debt; and would no longer be wantingto your silent request. Therefore, as I had no books with me, I havewritten these pages on my voyage, from memory; and I have sent them toyou while on my journey, in order that by my diligence in obeying yourcommands, I might rouse you to a recollection of my affairs, althoughyou do not require a reminder. But, however, it is time to come to theobject which we have undertaken. 

II. As every careful method of arguing has two divisions, --one ofdiscovering, one of deciding, --Aristotle was, as it appears to me, thechief discoverer of each. But the Stoics also have devoted some painsto the latter, for they have diligently considered the methods ofcarrying on a discussion by that science which they call dialectics;but the art of discovering arguments, which is called topics, andwhich was more serviceable for practical use, and certainly prior inthe order of nature, they have wholly disregarded. But we, since bothparts are of the greatest utility, and since we intend to examineeach if we have time, will now begin with that which is naturally thefirst. 

As therefore the discovery of those things which are hidden is easy, if the place where they are hidden is pointed out and clearly marked;so, when we wish to examine any argument, we ought to know thetopics, --for so they are called by Aristotle, being, as it were, seats from which arguments are derived. Therefore we may give as adefinition, that a topic is the seat of an argument, and that anargument is a reason which causes men to believe a thing which wouldotherwise be doubtful. But of those topics in which arguments arecontained, some dwell on that particular point which is the subject ofdiscussion; some are derived from external circumstances. When derivedfrom the subject itself, they proceed at times from it taken as awhole, at times from its parts, at times from some sign, and at othersfrom things which are disposed in some manner or other towards thesubject under discussion; but those topics are derived from externalcircumstances which are at a distance and far removed from the samesubject. 

But a definition is employed with reference to the entire matter underdiscussion which unfolds the matter which is the subject of inquiry asif it had been previously enveloped in mystery. The formula of thatargument is of this sort: "Civil law is equity established among menwho belong to the same city, for the purpose of insuring each man inthe possession of his property and rights: and the knowledge of thisequity is useful: therefore the knowledge of civil law is useful. "Then comes the enumeration of the parts, which is dealt with in thismanner: "If a slave has not been declared free either by the censor, or by the praetor's rod, or by the will of his master, he is not free:but none of those things is the case: therefore he is not free. " Thencomes the sign; when some argument is derived from the meaning of aword, in this way:--As the Aelian Sentian law orders an assiduus[63] tosupport an assiduus, it orders a rich man to support a rich man, for arich man is an assiduus, called so, as Aelius says, from _asse dando_. 

III. Arguments are also derived from things which bear some kind ofrelation to that which is the object of discussion. But this kind isdistributed under many heads; for we call some connected with oneanother either by nature, or by their form, or by their resemblance toone another, or by their differences, or by their contrariety toone another, or by adjuncts, or by their antecedents, or by theirconsequents, or by what is opposed to each of them, or by causes, orby effects, or by a comparison with what is greater, or equal, orless. 

Arguments are said to be connected together which are derived fromwords of the same kind. But words are of the same kind which, originating from one word, are altered in various ways; as, "_sapiens, sapienter, sapientia_. " The connexion of these words is called [Greek:suxugia]; from which arises an argument of this kind: "If the land iscommon, every one has a right to feed his cattle on it. "

An argument is derived from the kind of word, thus: "Since all themoney has been bequeathed to the woman, it is impossible thatthat ready money which was left in the house should not have beenbequeathed. For the species is never separated from the genus as longas it retains its name: but ready money retains the name of money:therefore it is plain that it was bequeathed. "

An argument is derived from the species, which we may sometimes name, in order that it may be more clearly understood; in this manner: "Ifthe money was bequeathed to Fabia by her husband, on the suppositionthat she was the mother of his family; if she was not his wife, thennothing is due to her. " For the wife is the genus: there are two kindsof wife; one being those mothers of a family which become wives by_coemptio_; the other kind are those which are only considered wives:and as Fabia was one of those last, it appears that nothing wasbequeathed to her. 

An argument is derived from similarity, in this way: "If those houseshave fallen down, or got into disrepair, a life-interest in which isbequeathed to some one, the heir is not bound to restore or to repairthem, any more than he is bound to replace a slave, if a slave, alife-interest in whom has been bequeathed to some one, has died. "

An argument is derived from difference, thus: "It does not follow, ifa man has bequeathed to his wife all the money which belonged to him, that therefore he bequeathed all which was down in his books as due tohim; for there is a great difference whether the money is laid up inhis strong box, or set down as due in his accounts. "

An argument is derived from contraries, thus: "That woman to whom herhusband has left a life-interest in all his property, has no right, ifhis cellars of wine and oil are left full, to think that they belongto her; for the use of them is what has been bequeathed to her, andnot the misuse: and they are contrary to one another. "

IV. An argument is derived from adjuncts, thus: "If a woman has madea will who has never given up her liberty by marriage, it does notappear that possession ought to be given by the edict of the praetorto the legatee under that will; for it is added, that in that casepossession would seem proper to be given by that same edict, accordingto the wills of slaves, or exiles, or infants. "

Arguments are derived from antecedents, and consequents, andcontradictories, in this way. From antecedents: "If a divorce has beencaused by the fault of the husband, although the woman has demandedit, still she is not bound to leave any of her dowry for herchildren. "

From consequents: "If a woman having married a man with whom she hadno right of intermarriage, has demanded a divorce, since the childrenwho have been born do not follow their father, the father has no rightto keep back any portion of the woman's dowry. "

From contradictories: "If the head of a family has left to his wife inreversion after his son the life-interest in the female slaves, andhas made no mention of any other reversionary heir, if the son dies, the woman shall not lose her life-interest. For that which has oncebeen given to any one by will, cannot be taken away from thelegatee to whom it has been given without his consent; for it is acontradiction for any one to have a right to receive a thing, and yetto be forced to give it up against his will. "

An argument is derived from efficient causes, in this way: "All menhave a right to add to a common party wall, a wall extending its wholelength, either solid or on arches; but if any one in demolishing thecommon wall should promise to pay for any damages which may arise fromhis action, he will not be bound to pay for any damage sustained orcaused by such arches: for the damage has been done, not by the partywhich demolished the common wall, but in consequence of some fault inthe work, which was built in such a manner as to be unable to supportitself. "

An argument is derived from what has been done, in this way: "When awoman becomes the wife of a man, everything which has belonged tothe woman now becomes the property of the husband under the name ofdowry. "

But in the way of comparison there are many kinds of valid arguments;in this way: "That which is valid in a greater affair, ought to bevalid in a less: so that, if the law does not regulate the limits inthe city, still more will it not compel any one to turn off the waterin the city. " Again, on the other hand: "Whatever is valid in asmaller matter ought to be valid also in a greater one. One mayconvert the preceding example. " Also, "That which is valid in aparallel case ought to be valid in this which is a parallel case. " As, "Since the usurpation of a farm depends on a term of two years, thelaw with respect to houses ought to be the same. " But in the lawhouses are not mentioned, and so they are supposed to come under thesame class as all other things, the property in which is determined byone year's use. Equity then must prevail, which requires similar lawsin similar cases. [64]

But those arguments which are derived from external circumstancesare deduced chiefly from authority. Therefore the Greeks callargumentations of that kind [Greek: atechuoi], that is, devoid ofart. As if you were to answer in this way:--"In the case of some onebuilding a roof for the purpose of covering a common wall, PubliusScaevola asserted that there was no right of carrying that roof sofar that the water which ran off it should run on to any part of anybuilding which did not belong to the owner of the roof. This I affirmto be law. "

V. By these topics then which have been explained, a means ofdiscovering and proving every sort of argument is supplied, as if theywere elements of argument. Have we then said enough up to this point?I think we have, as far at least as you, an acute man and one deeplyskilled in law, are concerned. But since I have to deal with a man whois very greedy when the feast in question is one of learning, I willprosecute the subject so that I will rather put forth something morethan is necessary, than allow you to depart unsatisfied. As, then, each separate one of those topics which I have mentioned has its ownproper members, I will follow them out as accurately as I can; andfirst of all I will speak of the definition itself. 

Definition is a speech which explains that which is defined. But ofdefinitions there are two principal kinds: one, of those things whichexist; the other, of those which are understood. The things which Icall existing are those which can be seen or touched; as a farm, ahouse, a wall, a gutter, a slave, an ox, furniture, provisions, and soon; of which kind of things some require at times to be defined by us. Those things, again, I say have no existence, which are incapable ofbeing touched or proved, but which can be perceived by the mindand understood; as if you were to define usucaption, guardianship, nationality, or relationship; all, things which have no body, butwhich nevertheless have a certain conformation plainly marked out andimpressed upon the mind, which I call the notion of them. They oftenrequire to be explained by definition while we are arguing about them. 

And again, there are definitions by partition, and others by division:by partition, when the matter which is to be defined is separated, asit were, into different members; as if any one were to say that civillaw was that which consists of laws, resolutions of the senate, precedents, the authority of lawyers, the edicts of magistrates, custom, and equity. But a definition by division embraces every formwhich comes under the entire genus which is defined; in this way:"Alienation is the surrender of anything which is a man's privateproperty, or a legal cession of it to men who are able by law to availthemselves of such cession. "

VI. There are also other kinds of definitions, but they have noconnexion with the subject of this book; we have only got to say whatis the manner of expressing a definition. This, then, is what theancients prescribe: that when you have taken those things which arecommon to the thing which you wish to define with other things, youmust pursue them till you make out of them altogether some peculiarproperty which cannot be transferred to anything else. As this: "Aninheritance is money. " Up to this point the definition is common, forthere are many kinds of money. Add what follows: "which by somebody'sdeath comes to some one else. " It is not yet a definition, formoney belonging to the dead can be possessed in many ways withoutinheritance. Add one word, "lawfully. " By this time the matter willappear distinguished from general terms, so that the definition maystand thus:--"An inheritance is money which by somebody's death haslawfully come to some one else. " It is not enough yet. Add, "withoutbeing either bequeathed by will, or held as some one else's property. "The definition is complete. Again, take this:--"Those are _gentiles_who are of the same name as one another. " That is insufficient. "Andwho are born of noble blood. " Even that is not enough. "Who have neverhad any ancestor in the condition of a slave. " Something is stillwanting. "Who have never parted with their franchise. " This, perhaps, may do. For I am not aware that Scaevola, the pontiff, added anythingto this definition. And this principle holds good in each kind ofdefinition, whether the thing to be defined is something which exists, or something which is understood. 

VII. But we have shown now what is meant by partition, and bydivision. But it is necessary to explain more clearly whereinthey differ. In partition, there are as it were members; as of abody--head, shoulders, hands, sides, legs, feet, and so on. Indivision there are forms which the Greeks call [Greek: ideae]; ourcountrymen who treat of such subjects call them species. And it is nota bad name, though it is an inconvenient one if we want to use it indifferent cases. For even if it were Latin to use such words, Ishould not like to say _specierum_ and _speciebus_. And we have oftenoccasion to use these cases. But I have no such objection to saying_formarum_ and _formis_; and as the meaning of each word is the same, I do not think that convenience of sound is wholly to be neglected. 

Men define genus and species or form in this manner:--"Genus isa notion relating to many differences. Species is a notion, thedifference of which can be referred to the head and as it werefountain of the genus. " I mean by notion that which the Greeks callsometimes [Greek: _ennoia_], and sometimes [Greek: _enoprolaepsis_]. It is knowledge implanted and previously acquired of each separatething, but one which requires development. Species, then, are thoseforms into which genus is divided without any single one beingomitted; as if any one were to divide justice into law, custom, andequity. A person who thinks that species are the same things as parts, is confounding the art; and being perplexed by some resemblance, he does not distinguish with sufficient acuteness what ought to bedistinguished. Often, also, both orators and poets define by metaphor, relying on some verbal resemblance, and indeed not without giving acertain degree of pleasure. But I will not depart from your examplesunless I am actually compelled to do so. 

Aquillius, then, my colleague and intimate friend, was accustomed, when there was any discussion about shores, (all of which you lawyersinsist upon it are public, ) to define them to men who asked to whomthat which was shore belonged, in this way: "Wherever the wavesdashed;" that is, as if a man were to define youth as the flower ofa man's age, or old age as the setting of life. Using a metaphor, hedeparts from the words proper to the matter in hand and to his ownart. This is enough as to definition. Let us now consider the otherpoints. 

VIII. But we must employ partition in such a manner as to omit no partwhatever. As if you wish to partition guardianship, you would actignorantly if you were to omit any kind. But if you were partitioningoff the different formulas of stipulations or judicial decisions, thenit is not a fault to omit something in a matter which is of boundlessextent. But in division it is a fault; for there is a settled numberof species which are subordinate to each genus. The distribution ofthe parts is often more interminable still, like the drawing streamsfrom a fountain. Therefore in the art of an orator, when the genusof a question is once laid down, the number of its species is addedabsolutely; but when rules are given concerning the embellishments ofwords and sentences, which are called [Greek: _schaemata_], the caseis different; for the circumstances are more infinite: so that it maybe understood from this also what the difference is which we assert toexist between partition and division. For although the words appearnearly equivalent to one another still, because the things aredifferent, the expressions are also established as not synonymous toone another. 

Many arguments are also derived from observation, and that is whenthey are deduced from the meaning of a word, which the Greeks call[Greek: _etumologia_]; or as we might translate it, word for word, _veriloquium_. But we, while avoiding the novel appearance of a wordwhich is not very suitable, call this kind of argument _notatio_, because words are the notes by which we distinguish things. Andtherefore Aristotle calls the same source of argument [Greek:_sunbolou_], which is equivalent to the Latin _nota_. But when it isknown what is meant we need not be so particular about the name. Ina discussion then, many arguments are derived from words by meansof observation; as when the question is asked, what is a_postliminium_--(I do not mean what are the objects to which this wordapplies, for that would be division, which is something of this sort:"_Postliminium_ applies to a man, a ship, a mule with panniers, ahorse, a mare who is accustomed to be bridled")--but when the meaningof the word itself, _postliminium_, is asked, and when the word itselfis observed. And in this our countryman, Servius, as it seems, thinksthat there is nothing to be observed except _post_, and he insistsupon it that _liminium_ is a mere extension of the word; as in_finitimus, legitimus, ceditimus, timus_ has no more meaning than_tullius_ has in _meditullius_. 

But Scaevola, the son of Publius Scaeaevola, thinks the word is acompound one, so that it is made up of _post_ and _limen_. So thatthose things which have been alienated from us, when they have comeinto the possession of our enemies, and, as it were, departed fromtheir own threshold, then when they have returned behind that samethreshold, appear to have returned _postliminio_. By which definitioneven the cause of Mancinus may be defended by saying that he returned_postliminio_, --that he was not surrendered, inasmuch as he was notreceived. For that no surrender and no gift can be understood to havetaken place if there has been no reception of it. 

IX. We next come to that topic which is derived from those thingswhich are disposed in some way or other to that thing which is thesubject of discussion. And I said just now that it was divided intomany parts. And the first topic is derived from combination, which theGreeks call [Greek: sizugia], being a kindred thing to observation, which we have just been discussing, as, if we were only to understandthat to be rain-water which we saw to have been collected from rain, Mucius would come, who, because the words _pluna_ and _pluendo_ wereakin, would say that all water ought to be kept out which had beenincreased by raining. But when an argument is derived from a genus, then it will not be necessary to trace it back to its origin, we mayoften stop on this side of that point, provided that which is deducedis higher than that for which it is deduced, as, "Rain water in itsultimate genus is that which descends from heaven and is increased byshowers, " but in reference to its more proximate sense, under whichthe right of keeping it off is comprised, the genus is, mischievousrain water. The subordinate species of that genus are waters whichinjure through a natural defect of the place, or those which areinjurious on account of the works of man: for one of these kinds maybe restrained by an arbitrator, but not the other. 

Again, this argumentation is handled very advantageously, which isderived from a species when you pursue all the separate parts bytracing them back to the whole, in this way "If that is _dolus malus_when one thing is aimed at, and another pretended, " we may enumeratethe different modes in which that can be done, and then under some oneof them we may range that which we are trying to prove has been done_dolo malo_. And that kind of argument is usually accounted one of themost irrefragable of all. 

X. The next thing is similarity, which is a very extensive topic, butone more useful for orators and for philosophers than for men ofyour profession. For although all topics belong to every kind ofdiscussion, so as to supply arguments for each, still they occurs moreabundantly in discussions on some subjects, and more sparingly inothers. Therefore the genera are known to you, but when you are toemploy them the questions themselves will instruct you. For there areresemblances which by means of comparisons arrive at the point theyaim at, in this manner. "If a guardian is bound to behave with goodfaith, and a partner, and any one to whom you have entrusted anything, and any one who has undertaken a trust then so ought an agent. " Thisargument, arriving at the point at which it aims by a comparison ofmany instances, is called induction, which in Greek is called [Greek:_ipago_]. And it is the kind of argument which Socrates employed agreat deal in his discourses. 

Another kind of resemblance is obtained by comparison, when one thingis compared to some other single thing, and like to like, in this way"As if in any city there is a dispute as to boundaries because theboundaries of fields appear more extensive than those of cities, youmay find it impossible to bring an arbitrator to settle the questionof boundaries, so if rain water is injurious in a city, since thewhole matter is one more for country magistrates, you may not beable to bring an arbitrator to settle the question of keeping offrain-water" Again, from the same topic of resemblance, examples arederived, as, "Crassus in Cunus's trial used many examples, speaking ofthe man who by his will had appointed his heir in such a manner, thatif he had had a son born within ten months of his death, and that sonhad died before coming into possession of the property held in trustfor him, the revisionary heir would succeed to the inheritance. And the enumeration of precedents which Crassus brought forwardprevailed". And you are accustomed to use this style of argument veryfrequently in replies. Even fictitious examples have all the force ofreal ones, but they belong rather to the orator than to you lawyers, although you also do use them sometimes, but in this way. "Suppose aman had given a slave a thing which a slave is by law incapable ofreceiving, is it on that account the act of the man who received it?or has he, who gave that present to his slave on that account takenany obligations on himself?" And in this kind of argument orators andphilosophers are allowed to make even dumb things talk, so that thedead man be raised from the shades below, or that anything whichintrinsically is absolutely impossible, may, for the sake of addingforce to the argument, or diminishing, be spoken of as real and thatfigure is called hyperbole. And they may say other marvellous things, but theirs is a wider field. Still, out of the same topics, as I havesaid before, arguments are derived for the most important and the mosttrivial inquiries. 

XI After similarity there follows difference between things, which isas different as possible from the preceding topic, still it is thesame art which finds out resemblances and dissimilarities. These areinstances of the same sort--"If you have contracted a debt to a woman, you can pay her without having recourse to a trustee, but what youowe to a minor, whether male or female; you cannot pay in the samemanner. "

The next topic is one which is derived from contraries. But the generaof contraries are several. One is of such things as differ in the samekind; as wisdom and jolly. But those things are said to be in the samekind, which, when they are proposed, are immediately met by certaincontraries, as if placed opposite to them: as slowness is contrary torapidity, and not weakness. From which contraries such arguments asthese are deduced:--"If we avoid folly, let us pursue wisdom; and ifwe avoid wickedness, let us pursue goodness. " These things, as theyare contrary qualities in the same class, are called opposites. Forthere are other contraries, which we may call in Latin, _privantia_, and which the Greeks call [Greek: _steraetika_]. For the preposition_in_ deprives the word of that force which it would have if _in_ werenot prefixed; as, "dignity, indignity--humanity, inhumanity, " andother words of the same kind, the manner of dealing with which isthe same as that of dealing with other kinds which I have calledopposites. For there are also other kinds or contraries; as thosewhich are compared to something or other; as, "twofold and simple;many and few; long and short; greater and less. " There are also thosevery contrary things which are called negatives, which the Greeks call[Greek: _steraetika_]: as, "If this is the case, that is not. " Forwhat need is there for an instance? only let it be understood that inseeking for an argument it is not every contrary which is suitable tobe opposed to another. 

XII. But I gave a little while ago an instance drawn from adjuncts;showing that many things are added as accessories, which ought tobe admitted, if we decided that possession ought to be given by thepraetor's edict, in compliance with the will which that person madewho had no right whatever to make a will. But this topic has moreinfluence in conjectural causes, which are frequent in courts, ofjustice, when we are inquiring either what is, or what has been, orwhat is likely to be, or what possibly may happen. And the form of thetopic itself is as follows. But this topic reminds us to inquire whathappened before the transaction of which we are speaking, or at thesame time with the transaction, or after the transaction. "This hasnothing to do with the law, you had better apply to Cicero, " ourfriend Gallus used to say, if any one brought him any cause whichrequired an inquiry into matters of fact. But you will prefer that notopic of the art which I have begun to treat of should be omittedby me, lest if you should think that nothing was to be written hereexcept what had reference to yourself, you should seem to be tooselfish. This then is for the most part an oratorical topic; not onlynot much suited to lawyers, but not even to philosophers. For thecircumstances which happened before the matter in question areinquired into, such as any preparation, any conferences, any place, any prearranged convivial meeting. And the circumstances whichhappened at the same time with the matter in question, are the noiseof footfalls, the noise of men, the shadow of a body, or anything ofthat sort. The circumstances subsequent to the matter in question are, blushing, paleness, trepidation, or any other tokens of agitationor consciousness; and besides these, any such fact as a fireextinguished, a bloody sword, or any circumstance which can excite asuspicion of such an act. 

XIII. The next topic is one peculiar to dialecticians; derived fromconsequents, and antecedents, and inconsistencies; and this one isvery different from that drawn from differences. For adjuncts, ofwhich we were speaking just now, do not always exist, but consequentsdo invariably. I call those things consequents which follow anaction of necessity. And the same rule holds as to antecedents andinconsistencies; for whatever precedes each thing, that of necessitycoheres with that theme; and whatever is inconsistent with it is ofsuch a nature that it can never cohere with it. As then this topic isdistributed in three divisions, into consequence, antecession, andinconsistency, there is one single topic to help us find the argument, but a threefold way of dealing with it. For what difference does itmake, when you have once assumed that the ready money is due to thewoman to whom all the money has been bequeathed, whether you concludeyour argument in this way:--"If coined money is money, it has beenbequeathed to the woman; but coined money is money; therefore it hasbeen bequeathed to her;"--or in this way: "If ready money has not beenbequeathed to her, then ready money is not money; but ready money ismoney; therefore it has been bequeathed to her;"--or in this way: "Thecases of money not having been bequeathed, and of ready money nothaving been bequeathed, are identical; but money was bequeathedto her; therefore ready money was bequeathed to her?" But thedialecticians call that conclusion of the argument in which, when youhave first made an assumption, that which is connected with it followsas a consequence of the assumption, the first mood of the conclusion;and when, because you have denied the consequence, it follows thatthat also to which it was a consequence must be denied also, that isthe second mood. But when you deny some things in combination, (andthen another negation is added to them, ) and from these things youassume something, so that what remains is also done away with, that iscalled the third mood of the conclusion. From this are derived thoseresults of the rhetoricians drawn from contraries, which they callenthymemes. Not that every sentence may not be legitimately calledan enthymeme; but, as Homer on account of his preeminence hasappropriated the general name of poet to himself as his own among allthe Greeks; so, though every sentence is an enthymeme, still, becausethat which is made up of contraries appears the most acute argument ofthe kind, that alone has possessed itself of the general name as itsown peculiar distinction. Its kinds are these:--"Can you fear thisman, and not fear that one?"--"You condemn this woman, against whomyou bring no accusation; and do you say that this other one deservespunishment, whom you believe to deserve reward?"--"That which you doknow is no good; that which you do not know is a great hindrance toyou. "

XIV. This kind of disputing is very closely connected with the modeof discussion adopted by you lawyers in reply, and still more closelywith that adopted by philosophers, as they share with the oratorsin the employment of that general conclusion which is drawn frominconsistent sentences, which is called by dialecticians the thirdmood, and by rhetoricians an enthymeme. There are many othermoods used by the rhetoricians, which consist of disjunctivepropositions:--"Either this or that is the case; but this is the case;then that is not the case. " And again:--"Either this or that is thecase; but this is not the case; then that is the case. " And theseconclusions are valid, because in a disjunctive proposition only onealternative can be true. And from those conclusions which I havementioned above, the former is called by the dialecticians thefourth mood, and the latter the fifth. Then they add a negation ofconjunctive propositions; as, "It is not both this and that; but it isthis; therefore it is not that. " This is the sixth mood. The seventhis, "It is not both this and that; but it is not this; therefore it isthat. " From these moods innumerable conclusions are derived, in whichnearly the whole science of dialectics consists. But even those whichI have now explained are not necessary for this present discussion. 

XV. The next topic is drawn from efficient circumstances which arecalled causes; and the next from the results produced by theseefficient causes. I have already given instances of these, as of theother topics, and those too drawn from civil law; but these have awider application. 

There are then two kinds of causes; one which of its own force to acertainty produces that effect which is subordinate to it; as, "Fireburns;" the other is that which has no nature able to produce theeffect in question, though still that effect cannot be producedwithout it; as, if any one were to say, that "brass was the cause of astatue; because a statue cannot be made without it. " Now of this kindof causes which are indispensable to a thing being done, some arequiet some passive, some, as it were, senseless; as, place, time, materials, tools, and other things of the same sort. But some exhibita sort of preparatory process towards the production of the effectspoken of; and some of themselves do contribute some aid to it;although it is not indispensable; as meeting may have suppliedthe cause to love; love to crime. From this description of causesdepending on one another in infinite series, is derived the doctrineof fate insisted on by the Stoics. And as I have thus divided thegenera of causes, without which nothing can be effected, so also thegenera of the efficient causes can be divided in the same manner. Forthere are some causes which manifestly produce the effect, without anyassistance from any quarter; others which require external aid; as forinstance, wisdom alone by herself makes men wise; but whether she isable alone to make men happy is a question. 

XVI. Wherefore, when any cause efficient as to some particular end hasinevitably presented itself in a discussion, it is allowable withoutany hesitation to conclude that what that cause must inevitably effectis effected. But when the cause is of such a nature that it does notinevitably effect the result, then the conclusion which follows isnot inevitable And that description of causes which has an inevitableeffect does not usually engender mistakes; but this description, without which a thing cannot take place, does often cause perplexity. For it does not follow, because sons cannot exist without parents, that there was therefore any unavoidable cause in the parents to havechildren. This, therefore, without which an effect cannot be produced, must be carefully separated from that by which it is certainlyproduced. For that is like--

 "Would that the lofty pine on Pelion's brow Had never fall'n beneath the woodman's axe!"

For if the beam of fir had never fallen to the ground, that Argowould not have been built; and yet there was not in the beams anyunavoidably efficient power. But when

"The fork'd and fiery bolt of Jove"

was hurled at Ajax's vessel, that ship was then inevitably burnt. 

And again, there is a difference between causes, because some are suchthat without any particular eagerness of mind, without any expresseddesire or opinion, they effect what is, as it were, their own work;as for instance, "that everything must die which has been born. " Butother results are effected either by some desire or agitation of mind, or by habit, or nature, or art, or chance. By desire, as in your case, when you read this book; by agitation, as in the case of any one whofears the ultimate issue of the present crisis; by habit, as in thecase of a man who gets easily and rapidly in a passion; by nature, asvice increases every day; by art, as in the case of a man who paintswell; by chance, as in the case of a man who has a prosperous voyage. None of these things are without some cause, and yet none of them arewholly owing to any single cause. But causes of this kind are notnecessary ones. 

XVII. But in some of these causes there is a uniform operation, and inothers there is not. In nature and in art there is uniformity; butin the others there is none. But still of those causes which are notuniform, some are evident, others are concealed. Those are evidentwhich touch the desire or judgment of the mind; those are concealedwhich are subject to fortune: for as nothing is done without somecause, this very obscure cause, which works in a concealed manner, is the issue of fortune. Again, these results which are produced arepartly unintended, partly intentional. Those are unintended which areproduced by necessity; those are intentional which are produced bydesign. But those results which are produced by fortune are eitherunintended or intentional. For to shoot an arrow is an act ofintention; to hit a man whom you did not mean to hit is the result offortune. And this is the topic which you use like a battering-ram inyour forensic pleadings; if a weapon has flown from the man's handrather than been thrown by him. Also agitation of mind may be dividedinto absence of knowledge and absence of intention. And although theyare to a certain extent voluntary, (for they are diverted from theircourse by reproof or by admonition, ) still they are liable to suchemotions that even those acts of theirs which are intentionalsometimes seem either unavoidable, or at all events unintentional. 

The whole topic of these causes then being now fully explained, fromtheir differences there is derived a great abundance of arguments inall the important discussions of orators and philosophers. And in thecases which you lawyers argue, if there is not so plentiful a stock, what there are, are perhaps more subtle and shrewd. For in privateactions the decisions in the most important cases appear to me todepend a great deal on the acuteness of the lawyers. For they areconstantly present, and are taken into counsel; and they supplyweapons to able advocates whenever they have recourse to theirprofessional wisdom. 

In all those judicial proceedings then, in which the words "accordingto good faith" are added, or even those words, "as ought to be done byone good man to another;" and above all, in all cases of arbitrationrespecting matrimonial rights, in which the words "juster and better"occur, the lawyers ought to be always ready. For they know what"dishonest fraud, " or "good faith, " or "just, " or "good" mean. Theyare acquainted with the law between partners; they know what the manwho has the management of the affairs of another is bound to do withrespect to him whose affairs he manages; they have laid down rules toshow what the man who has committed a charge to another, and what hewho has had it committed to him, ought to do; what a husband ought toconfer on his wife, and a wife on her husband. It will, therefore, when they have by diligence arrived at a proper understanding of thetopics from which the necessary arguments are derived, be in the powernot only of orators and philosophers, but of lawyers also, to discusswith abundance of argument all the questions which can arise for theirconsideration. 

XVIII. Conjoined to this topic of causes is that topic which issupplied by causes. For as cause indicates effect, so what has beeneffected points out what the efficient cause has been. This topicordinarily supplies to orators and poets, and often to philosophersalso, that is to say, to those who have an elegant and argumentativeand rich style of eloquence, a wonderful store of arguments, when theypredict what will result from each circumstance. For the knowledge ofcauses produces a knowledge of effects. 

The remaining topic is that of comparison, the genus and instances ofwhich have been already explained, as they have in the case of theother topics. At present we must explain the manner of dealing withthis one. Those things then are compared which are greater than oneanother, or less than one another, or equal to one another. In whichthese points are regarded; number, appearance, power, and someparticular relation to some particular thing. 

Things will be compared in number thus: so that more advantages may bepreferred to fewer; fewer evils to more; more lasting advantagesto those which are more short-lived; those which have an extensiveapplication to those the effect of which is narrowed: those from whichstill further advantages may be derived, and those which many peoplemay imitate and reproduce. 

Things again will be compared with reference to their appearance, sothat those things may be preferred which are to be desired for theirown sake, to those which are only sought for the sake of somethingelse: and so that innate and inherent advantages may be preferred toacquired and adventitious ones; complete good to mixed good; pleasantthings to things less pleasant; honourable things to such as aremerely useful; easy things to difficult ones; necessary to unnecessarythings; one's own advantage to that of others; rare things to commonones; desirable things to those which you can easily do without;things complete to things which are only begun; wholes to parts;things proceeding on reason to things void of reason; voluntary tonecessary things; animate to inanimate things; things natural tothings not natural; things skilfully produced by art to things withwhich art has no connexion. 

But power in a comparison is perceived in this way: an efficient causeis more important than one which effects nothing; those causes whichcan act by themselves are superior to those which stand in need of theaid of others; those which are in our power are preferable to thosewhich are in the power of another; lasting causes surpass those whichare uncertain; things of which no one can deprive us are better thanthings which can be easily taken away. 

But the way in which people or things are disposed towards somethings is of this sort: the interests of the chief citizens are moreimportant than those of the rest: and also, those things which aremore agreeable, which are approved of by more people, or whichare praised by the most virtuous men, are preferable. And as in acomparison these things are the better, so those which are contrary tothem are the worse. 

But the comparison between things like or equal to each other has noelation or submission; for it is on equal terms: but there are manythings which are compared on account of their very equality; which areusually concluded in this manner: "If to assist one's fellow-citizenswith counsel and personal aid deserves equal praise, those men who actas counsellors ought to enjoy an equal glory with those who are theactual defenders of a state. " But the first premiss is certainly thecase; therefore so must the consequent be. 

Every rule necessary for the discovery of arguments is now concluded;so that as you have proceeded from definition, from partition, fromobservation, from words connected with one another, from genus, fromspecies, from similarity, from difference, from contraries, fromaccessories, from consequents, from antecedents, from thingsinconsistent with one another, from causes, from effects, from acomparison with greater, or lesser, or equal things, --there is notopic of argument whatever remaining to be discovered. 

XIX. But since we originally divided the inquiry in such a way that wesaid that other topics also were contained in the very matter whichwas the subject of inquiry; (but of those we have spoken at sufficientlength:) that others were derived from external subjects; and of thesewe will say a little; although those things have no relation whateverto your discussions. But still we may as well make the thing complete, since we have begun it. Nor are you a man who take no delight inanything except civil law; and since this treatise is dedicated toyou, though not so exclusively but that it will also come into thehands of other people, we must take pains to be as serviceable aspossible to those men who are addicted to laudable pursuits. 

This sort of argumentation then which is said not to be founded onart, depends on testimony. But we call everything testimony which isdeduced from any external circumstances for the purpose of implantingbelief. Now it is not every one who is of sufficient weight to givevalid testimony; for authority is requisite to make us believe things. But it is either a man's natural character or his age which investshim with authority. The authority derived from a man's naturalcharacter depends chiefly on his virtue; but on his age there aremany things which confer authority; genius, power, fortune, skill, experience, necessity, and sometimes even a concourse of accidentalcircumstances. For men think able and opulent men, and men who havebeen esteemed during a long period of their lives, worthy of beingbelieved Perhaps they are not always right; but still it is not easyto change the sentiments of the common people; and both those who formjudgments and those who adopt vague opinions shape everything withreference to them. For those men who are eminent for those qualitieswhich I have mentioned, seem to be eminent for virtue itself. But inthe other circumstances also which I have just enumerated, althoughthere is in them no appearance of virtue, still sometimes beliefis confirmed by them, if either any skill is displayed, --for theinfluence of knowledge in inspiring belief is very great; or anyexperience--for people are apt to believe those who are men ofexperience. 

XX. Necessity also engenders belief, which sways both bodies andminds. For what men say when worn out with tortures, and stripes, andfire, appears to be uttered by truth itself. And those statementswhich proceed from agitation of mind, such as pain, cupidity, passion, and fear, because those feelings have the force of necessity, bringauthority and belief. And of this kind are those circumstances fromwhich at times the truth is discovered; childhood, sleep, ignorance, drunkenness, insanity. For children have often indicated something, though ignorant to what it related; and many things have often beendiscovered by sleep, and wine, and insanity. Many men also havewithout knowing it fallen into great difficulties, as lately happenedto Stalenus; who said things in the hearing of certain excellent men, though a wall was between them, which, when they were revealed andbrought before a judicial tribunal, were thought so wicked that he wasrightly convicted of a capital offence. And we have heard somethingsimilar concerning Pausanias the Lacedaemonian. 

But the concourse of fortuitous events is often of this kind; whenanything has happened by chance to interrupt, when anything was beingdone or said which it was desirable should not have been done or said. Of this kind is that multitude of suspicions of treason which wereheaped upon Palamedes. And circumstances of this kind are sometimesscarcely able to be refuted by truth itself. Of this kind too isordinary report among the common people; which is as it were thetestimony of the multitude. 

But those things which create belief on account of the virtue of thewitness are of a two-fold kind; one of which is valid on account ofnature, the other by industry. For the virtue of the gods is eminentby nature; but that of men, because of their industry. 

Testimonies of this kind are nearly divine, first of all, that oforation, (for oracles were so called from that very same word, asthere is in them the oration of the gods;) then that of things inwhich there are, as it were, many divine works; first of all, the worditself, and its whole order and ornaments; then the airy flights andsongs of birds; then the sound and heat of that same air; and thenumerous prodigies of divers kinds seen on the earth; and also, thepower of foreseeing the future by means of the entrails of victims:many things, too, which are shown to the living by those who areasleep: from all which topics the testimonies of the gods are at timesadduced so as to create belief. 

In the case of a man, the opinion of his virtue is of the greatestweight. For opinion goes to this extent, that those men have virtue, not only who do really possess it, but those also who appear topossess it. Therefore, those men whom they see endowed with geniusand diligence and learning, and whose life they see is consistent andapproved of, like Cato and Laelius, and Scipio, and many others, theyconsider such men as they themselves would wish to be. And not onlydo they think them such who enjoy honours conferred on them by thepeople, and who busy themselves with affairs of state, but also thosewho are orators, and philosophers, and poets, and historians; fromwhose sayings and writings authority is often sought for to establishbelief. 

XXI. Having thus explained all the topics serviceable for arguing, thefirst thing to be understood is, that there is no discussion whateverto which some topic or other is not applicable; and on the other hand, that it is not every topic which is applicable to every discussion;but that different topics are suited to different subjects. 

There are two kinds of inquiry: one, infinite; the other, definite. The definite one is that which the Greeks call [Greek: hupothesis], and we, a cause; the infinite one, that which they call [Greek:thesis], and which we may properly term a proposition. 

A cause is determined by certain persons, places, times, actions, andthings, either all or most of them; but a proposition is declared insome one of those things, or in several of them, and those not themost important: therefore, a proposition is a part of a cause. But thewhole inquiry is about some particular one of those things in whichcauses are contained; whether it be one, or many, or sometimes all. But of inquiries, concerning whatever thing they are, there two kinds;one theoretical, the other practical. Theoretical inquiries are thoseof which the proposed aim is science; as, 'If it is inquired whetherright proceeds from nature, or from some covenant, as it were, andbargain between men. But the following are instances of practicalinquiry: "Whether it is the part of a wise man to meddle withstatesmanship. " The inquiries into theoretical matters are threefold;as what is inquired is, whether a thing exists, or what it is, orwhat its character is. The first of these queries is explained byconjecture; the second, by definition; the third, by distinctions ofright and wrong. 

The method of conjecture is distributed into four parts; one of whichis, when the inquiry is whether something exists; a second, when thequestion is, whence it has originated; a third, when one seeks to knowwhat cause produced it; the fourth is that in which the alterations towhich the subject is liable are examined: "Whether it exists or not;whether there is anything honourable, anything intrinsically andreally just; or whether these things only exist in opinion. " But theinquiry whence it has originated, is when an inquiry is such asthis, "Whether virtue is implanted by nature, or whether it can beengendered by instruction. " But the efficient cause is like this, aswhen an inquiry is, "By what means eloquence is produced. " Concerningthe alterations of anything, in this manner: "Whether eloquence can byany alteration be converted into a want of eloquence. "

XXII. But when the question is what a thing is; the notion is to beexplained, and the property, and the division, and the partition. Forthese things are all attributed to definition. Description also isadded, which the Greeks call [Greek: charaktaer]. A notion is inquiredinto in this way: "Whether that is just which is useful to that personwho is the more powerful. " Property, in this way: "Whether melancholyis incidental to man alone, or whether beasts also are liable to it. "Division, and also partition, in this manner: "Whether there are threedescriptions of good things. " Description, like this: "What sort ofperson a miser is; what sort of person a flatterer;" and other thingsof that sort, by which the nature and life of a man are described. 

But when the inquiry is what the character of something is, theinquiry is conducted either simply, or by way of comparison. Simply, in this way: "Whether glory is to be sought for. " By way ofcomparison, in this way: "Whether glory is to be preferred to riches. "Of simple inquiries there are three kinds; about seeking for oravoiding anything, about the right and the wrong; about what ishonourable and what is discreditable. But of inquiries by way ofcomparison there are two; one of the thing itself and something else;one of something greater and something else. Of seeking for andavoiding a thing, in this way: "Whether riches are to be soughtfor: whether poverty is to be avoided. " Concerning right and wrong:"Whether it is right to revenge oneself, whoever the person may befrom whom one has received an injury. " Concerning what is honourableand what is discreditable: "Whether it is honourable to die for one'scountry. " But of the other kind of inquiry, which has been stated tobe twofold, one is about the thing in question and something else;as if it were asked, "What is the difference between a friend anda flatterer, between a king and a tyrant?" The other is betweensomething greater and something less; as if it were asked, "Whethereloquence is of more consequence than the knowledge of civil law. " Andthis is enough about theoretical inquiries. 

It remains to speak of practical ones; of which there are two kinds:one relating to one's duty, the other to engendering, or calming, orutterly removing any affection of the mind. Relating to duty thus: aswhen the question is, "Whether children ought to be bad. " Relating toinfluencing the mind, when exhortations are delivered to men to defendthe republic, or when they are encouraged to seek glory and praise:of which kind of addresses are complaints, and encouragements, andtearful commiseration; and again, speeches extinguishing anger, or atother times removing fear, or repressing the exultation of joy, oreffacing melancholy. As these different divisions belong to generalinquiries, they are also transferable to causes. 

XXIII. But the next thing to be inquired is, what topics are adaptedto each kind of inquiry; for all those which we have already mentionedare suitable to most kinds; but still, different topics, as I havesaid before, are better suited to different investigations. Thosearguments are the most suitable to conjectural discussion which can bededuced from causes, from effects, or from dependent circumstances. But when we have need of definition, then we must have recourse to theprinciples and science of defining. And akin to this is that otherargument also which we said was employed with respect to the subjectin question and something else; and that is a species of definition. For if the question is, "Whether pertinacity and perseverance are thesame thing, " it must be decided by definitions. And the topics whichare incidental to a discussion of this kind are those drawn fromconsequents, or antecedents, or inconsistencies, with the additionalso of those two topics which are deduced from causes and effects. For if such and such a thing is a consequence of this, but not aconsequence of that; or if such and such a thing is a necessaryantecedent to this, but not to that; or if it is inconsistent withthis, but not with that; or if one thing is the cause of this, andanother the cause of that; or if this is effected by one thing, and that by another thing; from any one of these topics it may bediscovered whether the thing which is the subject of discussion is thesame thing or something else. 

With respect to the third kind of inquiry, in which the question iswhat the character of the matter in question is, those things areincidental to the comparison which were enumerated just now under thetopic of comparison. But in that kind of inquiry where the questionis about what is to be sought for or avoided, those arguments areemployed which refer to advantages or disadvantages, whether affectingthe mind or body, or being external. And again, when the inquiry isnot what is honourable or discreditable, all our argument must beaddressed to the good or bad qualities of the mind. 

But when right and wrong are being discussed, all the topics of equityare collected. These are divided in a two-fold manner, as to whetherthey are such by nature or owing to institutions. Nature has twoparts to perform, to defend itself, and to indicate right. But theagreements which establish equity are of a threefold character: onepart is that which rests on laws; one depends on convenience; thethird is founded on and established by antiquity of custom. And again, equity itself is said to be of a threefold nature: one division of ithaving reference to the gods above; another, to the shades below; athird, to mankind. The first is called piety; the second, sanctity;the third, justice or equity. 

XXIV. I have said enough about propositions. There are now a fewthings which require to be said about causes. For they have manythings in common with propositions. 

There are then three kinds of causes; having for their respectiveobjects, judgment, deliberation, and panegyric. And the object of eachpoints out what topics we ought to employ in each. For the object ofjudicial judgment is right; from which also it derives its name. Andthe divisions of right were explained when we explained the divisionsof equity. The object of deliberation is utility; of which thedivisions have also been already explained when we were treating ofthings to be desired. The object of panegyric is honour; concerningwhich also we have already spoken. 

But inquiries which are definite are all of them furnished withappropriate topics, as if they belonged to themselves, being dividedinto accusation and defence. And in them there are these kinds ofargumentation. The accuser accuses a person of an act; the advocatefor the defence opposes one of these excuses: either that the thingimputed has not been done; or that, if it has been done, it deservesto be called by a different name; or that it was done lawfully andrightly. Therefore, the first is called a defence either by way ofdenial or by way of conjecture; the second is called a defence bydefinition; the third, although it is an unpopular name, is called thejudicial one. 

XXV. The arguments proper to these excuses, being derived from thetopics which we have already set forth, have been explained in ouroratorical rules. But the refutation of an accusation, in which thereis a repelling of a charge, which is called in Greek [Greek: stasis], is in Latin called _status_. On which there is founded, in the firstplace, such a defence as may effectually resist the attack. And also, in the deliberations and panegyrics the same refutations often haveplace. For it is often denied that those things are likely to happenwhich have been stated by some or other in his speech as sure to takeplace; if it can be shown either that they are actually impossible, orthat they cannot be brought about without extreme difficulty. And inthis kind of argumentation the conjectural refutation takes place. Butwhen there is any discussion about utility, or honour, or equity, andabout those things which are contrary to one another, then come indenials, either of the law or of the name of the action. And the sameis the case in panegyrics. For one may either deny that that has beendone which the person is praised for; or else that it ought to bearthat name which the praiser has conferred on it, or else one mayaltogether deny that it deserves any praise at all, as not having beendone rightly or lawfully. And Caesar employed all these different kindsof denial with exceeding impudence when speaking against my friendCato. But the contest which arises from a denial is called by theGreeks [Greek: krinomenon]; I, while writing to you, prefer calling it"the precise point in dispute. " But for the parts within which thisdiscussion on the point in dispute is contained, they may be calledthe containing parts; being as it were the foundations of the defence;and if they are taken away there would be no defence at all. But sincein arguing controversies there ought to be nothing which has moreweight than the law itself, we must take pains to have the law as ourassistant and witness. And in this there are, as it were, other newdenials, which are called legitimate subjects of discussion. For thenit is urged in defence, that the law does not say what the adversarystates it to say, but something else. And that happens when the termsof the law are ambiguous, so that they can be understood in twodifferent senses. Then the intention of the framer is opposed to theletter of the law; so that the question is, whether the words or theintention ought to have the greatest validity? Then again, another lawis adduced contrary to this law. So there are three kinds of doubtswhich can give rise to a dispute with respect to every writtendocument; ambiguity of expression, discrepancy between the expressionand the intention, and also written documents opposed to the one inquestion. For this is evident; that these kinds of disputes are nomore incidental to laws than to wills, or covenants, or to anythingelse which is contained in writing. And the way to treat these topicsis explained in other books. 

XXVI. Nor is it only entire pleadings which are assisted by thesetopics, but the same are useful in the separate parts of an orator;being partly peculiar and partly general. As in the opening of aspeech, in which the orator must employ peculiar topics in order torender his hearers well disposed to him, and docile, and attentive. And also he must attend to his relations of facts, so that they mayhave a bearing on his object, that is to say, that they may be plain, and brief, and intelligible, and credible, and respectable, anddignified: for although these qualities ought to be apparentthroughout the whole speech, still they are peculiarly necessary inany narration. But since the belief which is given to a narration isengendered by persuasiveness, we have already, in the treatises whichwe have written on the general subject of oratory, explained whattopics they are which have the greatest power to persuade the hearers. But the peroration has other points to attend to, and especiallyamplification; the effect of which ought to be, that the mind of thehearer is agitated or tranquillized by it; and if it has already beenaffected in that way, that the whole speech shall either increase itsagitation, or calm it more completely. 

For this kind of peroration, by which pity, and anger, and hatred, and envy, and similar feelings of the mind are excited, rules arefurnished in those books, which you may read over with me whenever youlike. But as to the point on which I have known you to be anxious, your desires ought now to be abundantly satisfied. For, in ordernot to pass over anything which had reference to the discovery ofarguments in every sort of discussion, I have embraced more topicsthan were desired by you; and I have done as liberal sellers often do, when they have sold a house or a farm, the movables being all exceptedfrom the sale, still give some of them to the purchaser, which appearto be well placed as ornaments or conveniences. And so we have chosento throw in some ornaments that were not strictly your due, inaddition to that with which we had bound ourselves to furnish you. 

 * * * * *

A DIALOGUE CONCERNING ORATORICAL PARTITIONS. 

BY MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO. 

 * * * * *

The persons introduced in this dialogue are Cicero and his son. It isnot known when, or under what circumstances it was written. 

I. _Cicero Fil. _ I wish, my father, to hear from you in Latin therules which you have already given me in Greek, concerning theprinciples of speaking, if at least you have leisure and inclinationto instruct me in them. 

_Cicero Pat. _ Is there anything, my Cicero, which I can be moredesirous of than that you should be as learned as possible? And in thefirst place, I have the greatest possible leisure, since I havebeen able to leave Rome for a time; and in the next place, I wouldwillingly postpone even my own most important occupations to thefurthering of your studies. 

_C. F. _ Will you allow me, then, to ask you questions in my turn, inLatin, about the same subjects on which you are accustomed to putquestions to me in regular order in Greek?

_C. P. _ Certainly, if you like; for by that means I shall perceivethat you recollect what you have been told, and you will hear inregular order all that you desire. 

_C. F. _ Into how many parts is the whole system of speaking divided?

_C. P. _ Into three. 

_C. F. _ What are they?

_C. P. _ First of all, the power of the orator; secondly, the speech;thirdly, the subject of the speech. 

_C. F. _ In what does the power of the orator consist?

_C. P. _ In ideas and words. But both ideas and words have to bediscovered and arranged. But properly the expression "to discover"applies to the ideas, and the expression "to be eloquent" to thelanguage; but the arranging, though that is common to both, still isusually referred rather to the discovery. Voice, gesture, expressionof countenance, and all action, are companions of eloquence; and theguardian of all these things is memory. 

_C. F. _ What? How many parts of an oration are there?

_C. P. _ Four: two of them relate to explaining any subject, --namely, relation and confirmation; two to exciting the minds of thehearers, --the opening and the peroration. 

_C. F. _ What? Has the manner of inquiry any divisions?

_C. P. _ It is divided into the infinite, which I term consultation;and the definite, which I call the cause. 

II. _C. F. _ Since, then, the first business of the orator isdiscovery, what is he to look for?

_C. P. _ He is to seek to find out how to inspire those men whom heis desirous to persuade, with belief in his words; and how to affecttheir minds with such and such feelings. 

_C. F. _ By what means is belief produced?

_C. P. _ By arguments, which are derived from topics either existing inthe subject itself, or assumed. 

_C. F. _ What do you mean by topics?

_C. P. _ Things in which arguments are concealed. 

_C. F. _ What is an argument?

_C. P. _ Something discovered which has a probable influence inproducing belief. 

_C. F. _ How, then, do you divide these two heads?

_C. P. _ Those things which come into the mind without art I callremote arguments, such as testimony. 

_C. F. _ What do you mean by those topics which exist in the thingitself?

_C. P. _ I cannot give a clearer explanation of them. 

_C. F. _ What are the different kinds of testimony?

_C. P. _ Divine and human. Divine, --such as oracles, auspices, prophecies, the answers of priests, soothsayers, and diviners:human, --which is derived from authority, from inclination, and fromspeech either voluntary or extorted; and under this head come writtendocuments, covenants, promises, oaths, inquiries. 

_C. F. _ What are the arguments which you say belong to the cause?

_C. P. _ Those which are fixed in the things themselves, as definition, as a contrary, as those things which are like or unlike, or whichcorrespond to or differ from the thing itself or its contrary, asthose things which have as it were united, or those which are as itwere inconsistent with one another, or the causes of those thingswhich are under discussion, or the results of causes, that is to say, those things which are produced by causes, as distributions, and thegenera of parts, or the parts of genera, as the beginnings and as itwere outriders of things, in which there is some argument, as thecomparisons between things, as to which is greater, which is equal, which is less, in which either the natures or the qualities of thingsare compared together. 

III. _C. F. _ Are we then to derive arguments from all these topics?

_C. P. _ Certainly we must examine into them all, and seek them fromall, but we must exercise our judgment in order at all times to rejectwhat is trivial, and sometimes pass over even common topics, and thosewhich are not necessary. 

_C. F. _ Since you have now answered me as to belief, I wish to hearyour account of how one is to raise feelings. 

_C. P. _ It is a very reasonable question, but what you wish to knowwill be explained more clearly when I come to the system of orationsand inquiries themselves. 

_C. F. _ What, then, comes next?

_C. P. _ When, you have discovered your arguments, to arrange themproperly, and in an extensive inquiry the order of the topics is verynearly that which I have set forth, but in a definite one, we must usethose topics also which relate to exciting the required feelings inthe minds of the hearers. 

_C. F. _ How, then, do you explain them?

_C. P. _ I have general precepts for producing belief and excitingfeelings. Since belief is a firm opinion, but feelings are anexcitement of the mind either to pleasure, or to vexation, or to fear, or to desire, (for there are all these kinds of feelings, and manydivisions of each separate genus, ) I adapt all my arrangement to theobject of the inquiry. For the end in a proposition is belief, in acause, both belief and feeling wherefore, when I have spoken of thecause, in which proposition is involved, I shall have spoken of both. 

_C. F. _ What have you then to say about the cause?

_C. P. _ That it is divided according to the divisions of hearers. Forthey are either listeners, who do nothing more than hear; or judges, that is to say, regulators both of the fact and of the decision; soas either to be delighted or to determine something. But he decideseither concerning the past as a judge, or concerning the future asa senate. So there are three kinds, --one of judgment, one ofdeliberation, one of embellishment; and this last, because it ischiefly employed in panegyric, has its peculiar name from that. 

IV. _C. F. _ What objects shall the orator propose to himself in thesethree kinds of oratory?

_C. P. _ In embellishment, his aim must be to give pleasure; injudicial speaking, to excite either the severity or the clemency ofthe judge; but in persuasion, to excite either the hope or the fear ofthe assembly which is deliberating. 

_C. F. _ Why then do you choose this place to explain the differentkinds of disputes?

_C. P. _ In order to adapt my principles of arrangement to the objectof each separate kind. 

_C. F. _ In what manner?

_C. P. _ Because in those orations in which pleasure is the objectaimed at, the orders of arrangement differ. For either the degrees ofopportunities are preserved, or the divisions of genera; or we ascendfrom the less to the greater, or we glide down from the greater to theless; or we distinguish between them with a variety of contrasts, whenwe oppose little things to great ones, simple things to complex ones, things obscure to things which are plain, what is joyful to what issad, what is incredible to what is probable; all which topics areparts of embellishment. 

_C. F. _ What? What is your aim in a deliberative speech?

_C. P. _ There must either be a short opening, or none at all. For themen who are deliberating are ready for their own sake to hear whatyou have to say. And indeed it is not often that there is much to berelated; for narration refers to things either present or past, butpersuasion has reference to the future. Wherefore every speech is tobe calculated to produce belief, and to excite the feelings. 

_C. F. _ What next? What is the proper arrangement in judicialspeeches?

_C. P. _ The arrangement suitable to the accuser is not the same asthat which is good for the accused person; because the accuser followsthe order of circumstances, and puts forward vigorously each separateargument, as if he had a spear in his hand; and sums them upwith vehemence; and confirms them by documents, and decrees, andtestimonies; and dwells carefully on each separate proof; and availshimself of all the rules of peroration which are of any force toexcite the mind; and in the rest of his oration he departs a littlefrom the regular tenor of his argument; and above all, is he earnestin summing up, for his object is to make the judge angry. 

V. _C. F. _ What, on the other hand, is the person accused to do?

_C. P_. He is to act as differently as possible in every respect. He must employ an opening calculated to conciliate good-will. Anynarrations which are disagreeable must be cut short; or if they arewholly mischievous, they must be wholly omitted; the corroborativeproofs calculated to produce belief must be either weakened orobscured, or thrown into the shade by digressions. And all theperorations must be adapted to excite pity. 

_C. F. _ Can we, then, always preserve that order of arrangement whichwe desire to adopt?

_C. P. _ Surely not; for the ears of the hearers are guides to a wiseand prudent orator; and whatever is unpleasing to them must be alteredor modified. 

_C. F. _ Explain to me then now, what are the rules for the speechitself, and for the expressions to be contained in it. 

_C. P. _ There is, then, one kind of eloquence which seems fluent bynature; another which appears to have been changed and modified byart. The power of the first consists in simple words; that of thesecond, in words in combination. Simple words require discovery;combined expressions stand in need of arrangement. 

And simple expressions are partly natural, partly discovered. Thoseare natural which are simply appellative; those are discovered whichare made of those others, and remodelled either by resemblance, or byimitation, or by inflection, or by the addition of other words. Andagain, there is this distinction between words: some are distinguishedaccording to their nature; some according to the way in which they arehandled: some by nature, so that they are more sonorous, more grave, or more trivial, and to a certain extent neater: but others by the wayin which they are handled, when either the peculiar names of thingsare taken, or else others which are added to the proper name, or new, or old-fashioned, or in some way or other modified and altered by theorator, --such as those which are used in borrowed senses, or changed, or those which we as it were misuse; or those which we make obscure;which we in some incredible manner remove altogether; and which weembellish in a more marvellous manner than the ordinary usage ofconversation sanctions. 

VI. _C. F. _ I understand you now as far as simple expressions go; nowI ask about words in combination. 

_C. P_. There is a certain rhythm which must be observed in suchcombination, and a certain order in which words must follow oneanother. Our ears themselves measure the rhythm; and guard againstyour failing to fill up with the requisite words the sentence whichyou have begun, and against your being too exuberant on the otherhand. But the order in which words follow one another is laid downto prevent an oration being a confused medley of genders, numbers, tenses, persons, and cases; for, as in simple words, that which is notLatin, so in combined expressions, that which is not well arranged, deserves to be blamed. 

But there are these five lights, as it were, which are common to bothsingle words and combined expressions, --they must be clear, concise, probable, intelligible, agreeable. Clearness is produced by commonwords, appropriate, well arranged, in a well-rounded period: on theother hand, obscurity is caused by either too great length, or a toogreat contraction of the sentence; or by ambiguity; or by any misuseor alteration of the ordinary sense of the words. But brevity isproduced by simple words, by speaking only once of each point, byaiming at no one object except speaking clearly. But an oration isprobable, if it is not too highly decorated and polished; if there isauthority and thought in its expressions; if its sentiments are eitherdignified, or else consistent with the opinions and customs of men. But an oration is brilliant, if expressions are used which are chosenwith gravity, and used in metaphorical and hyperbolical senses; and ifit is also full of words suited to the circumstances, and reiterated, and having the same sense, and not inconsistent with the subject underdiscussion, and with the imitation of things: for this is one part ofan oration which almost brings the actual circumstances before oureyes, for then the sense is most easily arrived at but still the othersenses also, and especially the mind itself, can be influenced by it. But the things which have been said about a clear speech, all havereference also to the brilliant one which we are now speaking of, forthis is only a kind somewhat more brilliant than that which I havecalled clear. By one kind we are made to understand, but by the otherone we actually appear to see. But the kind of speaking which isagreeable, consists first of all of an elegance and pleasantness ofsounding and sweet words, secondly, of a combination which has noharsh unions of words, nor any disjoined and open vowels, and it mustalso be bounded with limited periods, and in paragraphs easily to bepronounced, and full of likeness and equality in the sentences. Thenagain, arguments derived from contrary expressions must be added, so that repetitions must answer to repetitions, like to like andexpressions must be added, repeated, redoubled, and even veryfrequently reiterated, the construction of the sentences must at onetime be compacted by means of conjunctions, and at another relaxed byseparation of the clauses. For an oration becomes agreeable when yousay anything unexpected, or unheard of, or novel, for whatever exciteswonder gives pleasure. And that oration especially influences thehearer which unites several affections of the mind, and which indicatethe amiable manners of the orator himself, which are representedeither by signifying his own opinion, and showing it to proceed from ahumane and liberal disposition, or by a turn in the language, when forthe sake either of extolling another or of disparaging himself, theorator seems to say one thing and mean another, and that too seems tobe done out of courtesy rather than out of levity. But there are manyrules for sweetness in speaking, which may make a speech either moreobscure or less probable, therefore, while on this topic, we mustdecide for ourselves what the cause requires. 

VII _C. F. _ It remains, then, now for you to speak of the alterationsand changes in a speech. 

_C. P. _ The whole of that, then, consists in the alteration of words, and that alteration is managed in such a way in the case of singlewords, that the style may either be dilated by words, or contracted. It may be dilated, when a word which is either peculiar, or whichhas the same signification, or which has been coined on purpose, isextended by paraphrase. Or again, in another way, when a definitionis held down to a single word, or when expressions borrowed fromsomething else are banished, or made use of in a roundabout sense, orwhen one word is made up out of two. But in compound words a threefoldchange can be made, not of words, but only of order, so that when athing has once been said plainly, as nature itself prompts, the ordermay be inverted, and the expression may be repeated, turned upsidedown, as it were, or backwards and forwards. Then again the sameexpression may be reiterated in a mutilated, or re arranged, form. Butthe practice of speaking is very much occupied in all these kinds ofconversion. 

_C. F. _ The next point is action, if I do not mistake. 

_C. P. _ It is so, and that must be constantly varied by the orator, in correspondence with the importance of his subjects and of hisexpressions. For the orator makes an oration clear, and brilliant, and probable, and agreeable, not only by his words, but also by thevariety of his tones, by the gestures of his body, by the changes ofhis countenance, which will be of great weight if they harmonize withthe character of his address, and follow its energy and variety. 

_C. F. _ Is there nothing remaining to be said about the oratorhimself?

_C. P. _ Nothing at all, except as to memory, which is in a certainmanner the sister of writing, and though in a different class greatlyresembles it. For as it consists of the characters of letters, and ofthat substance on which those characters are impressed, so a perfectmemory uses topics, as writing does wax, and on them arranges itsimages as if they were letters. 

VIII _C. F. _ Since, then, you have thus explained all the power of anorator, what have you to tell me about the rules for an oration?

_C. P. _ That there are four divisions in an oration, of which thefirst and last are of avail to excite such and such feelings in themind, for they are to be excited by the openings and perorations ofspeeches: the second is narration: and the third, being confirmation, adds credibility to a speech. But although amplification has its ownproper place, being often in the opening of a speech, and almostalways at the end still it may be employed also in other parts of thespeech especially when any point has been established, or when theorator has been finding fault with something. Therefore, it is of thevery greatest influence in producing belief. For amplification is asort of vehement argumentation; the one being used for the sake ofteaching, the other with the object of acting on the feelings. 

_C. F. _ Proceed, then, to explain to me these four divisions inregular order. 

_C. P. _ I will do so; and I will begin with the opening of a speech, which is usually derived either from the persons concerned, or fromthe circumstances of the case. And openings are employed with threecombined objects, that we may be listened to with friendly feelings, intelligently and attentively. And the first topic employed inopenings has reference to ourselves, to our judges, and to ouradversaries; from which we aim at laying the foundations of good-willtowards us, either by our own merits, or by our dignity, or by somekind of virtue, and especially by the qualities of liberality, duty, justice, and good faith; and also by imputing opposite qualities toour adversaries, and by intimating that the judges themselves havesome interest on our side, either in existence, or in prospect. And ifany hatred has been excited against, or any offence been given by us, we then apply ourselves to remove or diminish that, by denying orextenuating the cause, or by atoning for it, or by deprecatinghostility. 

But in order that we may be listened to in an intelligent andattentive manner, we must begin with the circumstances of the casethemselves. But the hearer learns and understands what the real pointin dispute is most easily if you, from the first beginning of yourspeech, embrace the whole genus and nature of the cause, --if youdefine it, and divide it, and neither perplex his discernment by theconfusion, nor his memory by the multitude, of the several parts ofyour discourse; and all the things which will presently be said aboutlucid narration may also with propriety be considered as bearing onthis division too. But that we may be listened to with attention, wemust do one of these things. For we must advance some propositionswhich are either important, or necessary, or connected with theinterests of those before whom the discussion is proceeding. This alsomay be laid down as a rule, that, if ever the time itself, or thefacts of the case, or the place, or the intervention of any one, or any interruption, or anything which may have been said by theadversary, and especially in his peroration, has given us anyopportunity of saying anything well suited to the occasion, we muston no account omit it. And many of the rules, which we give in theirproper place, about amplification, may be transferred here to theconsideration of the opening of a speech. 

IX. _C. F. _ What next? What rules, then, are to be attended to innarration?

_C. P. _ Since narration is an explanation of facts, and a sort of baseand foundation for the establishment of belief, those rules are mostespecially to be observed in it, which apply also, for the most part, to the other divisions of speaking; part of which are necessary, andpart are assumed for the sake of embellishment. For it is necessaryfor us to narrate events in a clear and probable manner; but we mustalso attend to an agreeable style. Therefore, in order to narratingwith clearness, we must go back to those previous rules for explainingand illustrating facts, in which brevity is enjoined and taught. Andbrevity is one of the points most frequently praised in narration, andwe have already dwelt enough upon it. Again, our narrative will beprobable, if the things which are related are consistent with thecharacter of the persons concerned, with the times and placesmentioned, --if the cause of every fact and event is stated, --if theyappear to be proved by witnesses, --if they are in accordance withthe opinions and authority of men, with law, with custom, and withreligion, --if the honesty of the narrator is established, his candour, his memory, the uniform truth of his conversation, and the integrityof his life. Again, a narration is agreeable which contains subjectscalculated to excite admiration, expectation, unlooked-for results, sudden feelings of the mind, conversations between people, grief, anger, fear, joy, desires. However, let us proceed to what follows. 

_C. F. _ What follows is, I suppose, what relates to producing belief. 

_C. P. _ Just so; and those topics are divided into confirmationand reprehension. For in confirmation we seek to establish our ownassertion; in reprehension, to invalidate those of our adversaries. Since, then, everything which is ever the subject of a dispute, is sobecause the question is raised whether it exists or not, or what itis, or of what character it is, in the first question conjecture hasweight, in the second, definition, and in the third, reasoning. 

X. _C. F. _ I understand this division. At present, I ask, what are thetopics of conjecture?

_C. P. _ They arise from probabilities, and turn wholly on the peculiarcharacteristics of things. But for the sake of instructing you, I willcall that probable which is generally done in such and such a way asit is probable that youth should be rather inclined to lust. But theindication of an appropriate characteristic is something which neverhappens in any other way, and which declares something which iscertain as smoke is a proof of fire. Probabilities are discoveredfrom the parts and, as it were, members of a narration. They exist inpersons, in places, in times, in facts, in events, in the nature ofthe facts and circumstances which may be under discussion. 

But in persons, the first things considered are the natural qualitiesof health, figure, strength, age, and whether they are male or female. And all these concern the body alone. But the qualities of the mind, or how they are affected, depends on virtues, vices, arts, and want ofart, or in another sense, on desire, fear, pleasure, or annoyance. Andthese are the natural circumstances which are principally considered. 

In fortune, we look at a man's race, his friends, his children, hisrelations, his kinsmen, his wealth, his honours, his power, hisestates, his freedom, and also at all the contraries to thesecircumstances. But in respect of place, some things arise from natureas, whether a place is on the coast or at a distance from the sea, whether it is level or mountainous, whether it is smooth or rough, wholesome or pestilential, shady or sunny, these again are fortuitouscircumstances, --whether a place is cultivated or uncultivatedfrequented or deserted, full of houses or naked, obscure or ennobledby the traces of mighty exploits, consecrated or profane. 

XI. But in respect of time, one distinguishes between the present, andthe past, and the future. And in these divisions there are the furthersubdivisions of ancient, recent, immediate, likely to happen soon, or likely to be very remote. In time there are also these otherdivisions, which mark, as it were natural sections of time as winter, spring, summer and autumn. Or again, the periods of the year: asa month, a day, a night, an hour, a season, all these are naturaldivisions. There are other accidental divisions such as days ofsacrifice, days of festival, weddings. Again, facts and events areeither designed or unintentional, and these last arise either frompure accident, or from some agitation of mind, by accident when athing has happened in a different way from what was expected, --fromsome agitation, when either forgetfulness, or mistake, or fear, orsome impulse of desire has been the acting cause. Necessity, too, mustbe classed among the causes of unintentional actions or results. 

Again, of good and bad things there are three classes. For they canexist either in men's minds or bodies, or they may be external to bothof these materials, then, as far as they are subordinate to argument, all the parts must be carefully turned over in the mind, andconjectures bearing on the subject before us must be derived from eachpart. 

There is also another class of arguments which is derived from tracesof a fact, as a weapon, blood, an outcry which has been raised, trepidation, changes of complexion, inconsistency of explanation, trembling, or any of these circumstances which can be perceived by oursenses, or if anything appears to have been prepared, or communicatedto any one, or if anything has been seen or heard, or if anyinformation has been given. 

But of probabilities some influence us separately by their own weight, some, although they appear trifling by themselves, still, when allcollected together, have great influence. And in such probabilities asthese there are sometimes some unerring and peculiar distinguishingcharacteristics of things. But what produces the surest belief in aprobability is, first of all, a similar instance, then the similarityof the present case to that instance sometimes even a fable, though itis an incredible one, has its influence, nevertheless, on men's minds. 

XII. _C. F. _ What next? What is the principle of definition, and whatis the system of it?

_C. P. _ There is no doubt but that definition belongs to the genus, and is distinguishable by a certain peculiarity of the characteristicswhich it mentions, or else by a number of common circumstances, fromwhich we may extract something which looks like a peculiar property. But since there is often very great disagreement about what arepeculiar properties, we must often derive our definitions fromcontraries, often from things dissimilar, often from things parallel. Wherefore descriptions also are often suitable in this kind ofaddress, and an enumeration of consequences, and above all things, anexplanation of the names and terms employed, is most effectual. 

_C. F. _ You have now then explained nearly all the questions whicharise about a fact, or about the name given to such fact. The nextthing is, when the fact itself and its proper title are agreed upon, that a doubt arises as to what its character is. 

_C. P. _ You are quite right. 

_C. F. _ What divisions, then, are there in this part of the argument?

_C. P. _ One urges either that what has been done has been lawfullydone, for the sake either of warding off or of avenging an injury, orunder pretext of piety, or chastity, or religion, or one's country, orelse that it has been done through necessity, out of ignorance, or bychance. For those things which have been done in consequence of somemotion or agitation of the mind, without any positive intention, have, in legal proceedings, no defence if they are impeached, though theymay have an excuse if discussed on principles unfettered by strictrules of law. In this class of discussion, in which the question is, what the character of the act is, one inquires, in the terms of thecontroversy, whether the act has been rightly and lawfully done ornot; and the discussion on these points turns on a definition of thebefore-mentioned topics. 

_C. F. _ Since, then, you have divided the topics to give credit to anoration into confirmation and reprehension, and since you have fullydiscussed the one, explain to me now the subject of reprehension. 

_C. P. _ You must either deny the whole of what the adversary hasassumed in argumentation, if you can show it to be fictitious orfalse, or you must refute what he has assumed as probable. First ofall, you must urge that he has taken what is doubtful as if it werecertain; in the next place, that the very same things might be said incases which were evidently false; and lastly, that these things whichhe has assumed do not produce the consequences which he wishes to beinferred from them. And you must attack his details, and by that meansbreak down his whole argument. Instances also must be brought forwardwhich were overruled in a similar discussion; and you must wind upwith the complaints of the condition of the general danger, if thelife of innocent men is exposed to the ingenuity of men devoted tocalumny. 

XIII. _C. F. _ Since I know now whence arguments can be derived whichhave a tendency to create belief, I am waiting to hear how they areseverally to be handled in speaking. 

_C. P. _ You seem to be inquiring about argumentation, and as to how todevelop arguments. 

_C. F. _ That is the very thing that I want to know. 

_C. P. _ The development, then, of an argument is argumentation; andthat is when you assume things which are either certain or at leastprobable, from which to derive a conclusion, which taken by itself isdoubtful, or at all events not very probable. But there are two kindsof arguing, one of which aims directly at creating belief, the otherprincipally looks to exciting such and such feelings. It goes straighton when it has proposed to itself something to prove, and assumedgrounds on which it may depend; and when these have been established, it comes back to its original proposition, and concludes. But theother kind of argumentation, proceeding as it were backwards and in aninverse way, first of all assumes what it chooses, and confirms it;and then, having excited the minds of the hearers, it throws on to theend that which was its original object. But there is this variety, anda distinction which is not disagreeable in arguing, as when we asksomething ourselves, or put questions, or express some command, orsome wish, as all these figures are a kind of embellishment to anoration. But we shall be able to avoid too much sameness, if we do notalways begin with the proposition which we desire to establish, and ifwe do not confirm each separate point by dwelling on it separately, and if we are at times very brief in our explanation of what issufficiently clear, and if we do not consider it at all timesnecessary to sum up and enumerate what results from these premiseswhen it is sufficiently clear. 

XIV. _C. F. _ What comes next? Is there any way or any respect in whichthose things which are said to be devoid of art, and which you saidjust now were accessories to the main argument, require art?

_C. P. _ Indeed they do. Nor are they called devoid of art becausethey really are so, but because it is not the art of the orator whichproduces them, but they are brought to him from abroad, as it were, and then he deals with them artistically; and this is especially thecase as to witnesses. For it is often necessary to speak of the wholeclass of witnesses, and to show how weak it is; and to urge thatarguments refer to facts, testimony to inclination; and one must haverecourse to precedents of cases where witnesses were not believed;and with respect to individual witnesses, if they are by nature vain, trifling, discreditable, or if they have been influenced by hope, byfear, by anger, by pity, by bribery, by interest; and they must becompared with the authority of the witnesses in the case cited, where the witnesses were not believed. Often, also, one must resistexaminations under torture, because many men, out of a desire to avoidpain, have often told lies under torture; and have preferred dyingwhile confessing a falsehood to suffering pain while persistingin their denial. Many men, also, have been indifferent to thepreservation of their own life, as long as they could save those whowere dearer to them than they were to themselves; others, owing tothe nature of their bodies, or to their being accustomed to pain, or because they feared punishment and execution, have endured theviolence of torture; others, also, have told lies against those whomthey hated. And all these arguments are to be fortified by instances. Nor is it at all uncertain that (since there are instances on bothsides of a question, and topics also for forming conjectures on bothsides) contrary arguments must be used in contrary cases. There is, also, another method of disparaging witnesses, and examinations undertorture; for often those answers which have been given may be attackedvery cleverly, if they have been expressed rather ambiguously orinconsistently, or with any incredible circumstances; or in differentways by different witnesses. 

XV. _C. F. _ The end of the oration remains to be spoken of by you; andthat is included in the peroration, which I wish to hear you explain?

_C. P. _ The explanation of the peroration is easy; for it is dividedinto two parts, amplification and enumeration. And the proper placefor amplification is in the peroration, and also in the course ofthe oration there are opportunities of digressing for the purpose ofamplification, by corroborating or refuting something which has beenpreviously said. Amplification, then, is a kind of graver affirmation, which by exciting feelings in the mind conciliates belief to one'sassertion. It is produced by the kind of words used, and by thefacts dwelt upon. Expressions are to be used which have a power ofillustrating the oration; yet such as are not unusual, but weighty, full-sounding, sonorous, compound, well-invented, and well-applied, not vulgar; borrowed from other subjects, and often metaphorical, notconsisting of single words, but dissolved into several clauses, whichare uttered without any conjunction between them, so as to appear morenumerous. Amplification is also obtained by repetition, by iteration, by redoubling words, and by gradually rising from lower to loftierlanguage; and it must be altogether a natural and lively sort ofspeech, made up of dignified language, well suited to give a highidea of the subject spoken of. This then is amplification as far aslanguage goes. To the language there must be adapted expressionof tone, of countenance, and gesture, all in harmony together andcalculated to rouse the feelings of the hearers. But the cause must bemaintained both by language and action, and carried on according tocircumstances. For, because these appear very absurd when they aremore vehement than the subject will bear, we must diligently considerwhat is becoming to each separate speaker, and in each separate case. 

XVI. The amplification of facts is derived from all the same topicsas those arguments which are adduced to create belief. And above allthings, a number of accumulated definitions carries weight with it, and a repeated assertion of consequents, and a comparison of contraryand dissimilar facts, and of inconsistent circumstances. Causes too, and those things which arise from causes, and especially similaritiesand instances, are efficacious; so also are imaginary characters. Lastly, mute things may be introduced as speaking, and altogether allthings are to be employed (if the cause will allow of them) which areconsidered important; and important things are divisible into twoclasses. For there are some things which seem important by nature, and some by use. By nature, as heavenly and divine things, and thosethings the causes of which are obscure, as those things which arewonderful on the earth and in the world, from which and from thingsresembling which, if you only take care, you will be able to drawmany arguments for amplifying the dignity of the cause which youare advocating. By use; which appear to be of exceeding benefit orexceeding injury to men; and of these there are three kinds suitablefor amplification. 

For men are either moved by affection, for instance, by affections forthe gods, for their country, or for their parents; or by love, as fortheir wives, their brothers, their children, or their friends; or byhonourableness, as by that of the virtues, and especially of thosevirtues which tend to promote sociability among men, and liberality. From them exhortations are derived to maintain them; and hatred isexcited against, and commiseration awakened for those by whom they areviolated. 

XVII. It is a very proper occasion for having recourse toamplification, when these advantages are either lost, or when thereis danger of losing them. For nothing is so pitiable as a man who hasbecome miserable after having been happy. And this is enough to moveus greatly, if any one falls from good fortune; and if he loses allhis friends; and if we have it briefly explained to us what greathappiness he is losing or has lost, and by what evils he isoverwhelmed, or is about to be overwhelmed. For tears soon dry, especially at another's misfortunes. Nor is there anything which it isless wise to exhaust than amplification. For all diligence attends tominutiae; but this topic requires only what is on a large scale. Hereagain is a matter for a man's judgment, what kind of amplification weshould employ in each cause. For in those causes which are embellishedfor the sake of pleasing the hearers, those topics must be dealtwith, which can excite expectation, admiration, or pleasure. But inexhortations the enumerations of instances of good and bad fortune, and instances and precedents, are arguments of great weight. In trialsthose topics are the most suitable for an accuser which tend to exciteanger; those are usually the most desirable for a person on his trialwhich relate to raising pity. But some times the accuser ought to seekto excite pity, and the advocate for the defence may aim at rousingindignation. 

Enumeration remains; a topic sometimes necessary to a panegyrist, notoften to one who is endeavouring to persuade; and more frequently toa prosecutor than to a defendant. It has two turns, if you eitherdistrust the recollection of those men before whom you are pleading, either on account of the length of time that has elapsed since thecircumstances of which you are speaking, or because of the length ofyour speech; in this case your cause will have the more strength ifyou bring up numberless corroborative arguments to strengthen yourspeech, and explain them with brevity. And the defendant will haveless frequent occasion to use them, because he has to lay downpropositions which are contrary to them: and his defence will come outbest if it is brief, and full of pungent stings. But in enumeration, it will be necessary to avoid letting it have the air of a childishdisplay of memory; and he will best avoid that fault who does notrecapitulate every trifle, but who touches on each particular briefly, and dwells only on the more weighty and important points. 

XVIII. _C. F. _ Since you have now discussed the orator himself and hisoration, explain to me now the topic of questions, which you reservedfor the last of the three. 

_C. P. _ There are, as I said at the beginning, two kinds of questions:one of which, that which is limited to times and persons, I call thecause; the other, which is infinite, and bounded neither by times norby persons, I call the proposition. But consultation is, as it were, apart of the cause and controversy. For in the definite there is whatis infinite, and nevertheless everything is referred to it. Wherefore, let us first speak of the proposition; of which there are two kinds:one of investigation; the end of this science, as for instance, whether the senses are to be depended upon; the other of action, whichhas reference to doing something: as if any one were to inquire bywhat services one ought to cultivate friendship. Again, of the former, namely, of investigation, there are three kinds: whether a thing is, or is not; what it is; of what sort it is. Whether it is or not, aswhether right is a thing existing by nature or by custom. But whata thing is, as whether that is right which is advantageous to thegreater number. And again, what sort of a thing anything is, aswhether to live justly is useful or not. 

But of action there are two kinds. One having reference to pursuingor avoiding anything; as for instance, by what means you can acquireglory, or how envy may be avoided. The other, which is referred tosome advantage or expediency; as how the republic ought to be managed, or how a man ought to live in poverty. 

But again in investigation, when the question is whether a thing is, or is not, or has been, or is likely to be. One kind of question is, whether anything can be effected; as when the question is whether anyone can be perfectly wise. Another question is, how each thing canbe effected; as for instance, by what means virtue is engendered, bynature, or reason, or use. And of this kind are all those questionsin which, as in obscure subjects or those which turn on naturalphilosophy, the causes and principles of things are explained. 

XIX. But of that kind in which the question is what that is which isthe subject of discussion, there are two sorts; in the one of whichone must discuss whether one thing is the same as another, ordifferent from it; as whether pertinacity is the same as perseverance. But in the other one must give a description and representation as itwere of some genus; as for instance, what sort of a man a miser is, orwhat pride is. 

But in the third kind, in which the question is what sort of thingsomething is, we must speak either of its honesty, or of its utility, or of its equity. Of its honesty thus. Whether it is honourable toencounter danger or unpopularity for a friend. But of its expediencythus. Whether it is expedient to occupy oneself in the conduct ofstate affairs. But of its equity thus. Whether it is just to preferone's friend to one's relations. And in the same kind of discussion, in which the question is what sort of thing something is, there arisesanother kind of way of arguing. For the question is not simply whatis honourable, what is expedient, what is equitable; but also bycomparison, which is more honourable, which is more expedient, whichis more equitable; and even which is most honourable, which ismost expedient, which is most equitable. Of which kind are thosespeculations, which is the most excellent dignity in life. And allthese questions, as I have said before, are parts of investigation. 

There remains the question of action. One kind of which is conversantwith the giving of rules which relate to principles of duty; as, forinstance, how one's parents are to be reverenced. And the other totranquillising the minds of men and healing them by one's oration; asin consoling affliction, in repressing ill-temper, in removing fear, or in allaying covetousness. And this kind is exactly opposed to thatby means of which the speaker proposes to engender those same feelingsof the mind, or to excite them, which it is often requisite to doin amplifying an oration. And these are nearly all the divisions ofconsultation. XX. _C. F. _ I understand you. But I should like to hearfrom you what in these divisions is the proper system for discoveringand arranging the heads of one's discourse. 

_C. P. _ What? Do you think it is a different one, and not the samewhich has been explained, so that everything may be deduced from thesame topics, both to create belief, and to discover arguments? But thesystem of arrangement which has been explained as appropriate to otherkinds of speeches may be transferred to this also. 

Since therefore we have now investigated the entire arrangement of theconsultations which we proposed to discuss, the kinds of causes arenow the principal things which remain. And their species is twofold;one of which aims at affording gratification to the ears, while thewhole object of the other is to obtain, and prove, and effectthe purpose which it has in view. Therefore the former is calledembellishment, and as that may be a kind of extensive operation, andsufficiently various, we have selected one instance of it which weadopt for the purpose of praising illustrious men, and of vituperatingthe wicked ones. For there is no kind of oration which can be eithermore fertile in its topics, or more profitable to states, or in whichthe orator is bound to have a more extensive acquaintance with virtuesand vices. But the other class of causes is conversant either with theforesight of the future, or with discussions on the past. One of whichtopics belongs to deliberation and the other to judgment. From whichdivision three kinds of causes have arisen; one, which, from thebest portion of it, is called that of panegyric; another that ofdeliberation; the third that of judicial decisions. Wherefore let usfirst, if you please, discuss the first. 

_C. F. _ Certainly, I do please. 

XXI. _C. P. _ And the systems of blaming and praising, which haveinfluence not only on speaking well but also on living honourably, Iwill explain briefly; and I will begin from the first principles ofpraise and blame. For everything is to be praised which is united withvirtue; and everything which is connected with vice is to be blamed. Wherefore the end of the one is honour, of the other baseness. Butthis kind of discourse is composed of the narration and explanation offacts, without any argumentations, in a way calculated to handle thefeelings of the mind gently rather than to create belief or to confirmit in a suitable manner. For they are not doubtful points which areestablished in this way; but those which being certain, or at leastadmitted as certain, are enlarged upon. Wherefore the rules fornarrating them and enlarging upon them must be sought for from amongthose which have been already laid down. 

And since in these causes the whole system has reference generally tothe pleasure and entertainment of the hearer, the speakers must employin them all the beauties of those separate expressions which have inthem the greatest amount of sweetness. That is, he must often usenewly-coined words, and old-fashioned words, and metaphoricallanguage; and in the very construction of his periods he must oftencompare like with like, and parallel cases with parallel. He musthave recourse to contrasts, to repetitions, to harmoniously-turnedsentences, formed not like verses, but to gratify the sensations ofthe ears by as it were a suitable moderation of expression. And thoseornaments are frequently to be employed, which are of a marvellous andunexpected character, and also those which are full of monsters, andprodigies, and oracles. And also those things must be mentioned whichappeared to have befallen the man of whom the orator is speaking inconsequence of some divine interposition, or decree of destiny. Forall the expectation and admiration of the hearer, and all unexpectedterminations, contribute to the pleasure which is felt in listening tothe orator. 

XXII. But since advantages or evils are of three classes, external, affecting the mind, or affecting the body, the first are externalwhich are derived from the genus; and this being praised in brief andmoderate terms, or, if it is discreditable, being passed over; if itis of a lowly nature, being either passed over, or handled in such away as to increase the glory of him whom you are praising. In the nextplace, if the case allows it, we must speak of his fortune and hisabilities, and after that of his personal qualifications; among whichit is very natural to praise his beauty, which is one of the greatestindications of virtue. After that we must come to his actions. Thearrangement is threefold. For we must have regard either to the orderof time, or the most recent actions must be spoken of first, or elsemany and various actions of his must be classified according to thedifferent kinds of virtue which they display. But this topic ofvirtues and vices, which is a very extensive one, will now be broughtinto a very brief and narrow compass, instead of the many and variousvolumes in which philosophers have discussed it. 

The power of virtue then is twofold, for virtue is distinguishedeither by theory or by practice. For that which is called prudence, or shrewdness, or (if we must have the most dignified title for it)wisdom, is all theoretical. But that which is praised as regulatingthe passions, and restraining the feelings of the mind, finds itsexercise in practice. And its name is temperance. And prudence whenexerted in a man's own business is called domestic, when displayed inthe affairs of the state is called civil prudence. But temperance inlike manner is divided according to its sphere of action, whetherdisplayed in a man's own affairs, or in those of the state. And it isdiscerned in two ways with respect to advantages, both by not desiringwhat it has not got, and by abstaining from what it is in its power toget. Again, in the case of disadvantages it is also twofold; for thatquality which resists impending evils is called fortitude; that whichbears and endures the evil that is present is termed patience. Andthat which embraces these two qualities is called magnanimity. And oneof the forms of this virtue is shown in the use of money. And atthe same time loftiness of spirit in supporting disadvantages, andespecially injuries, and everything of the sort, being grave, sedate, and never turbulent. But that division of virtue which is exercisedbetween one being and another is called justice. And that whenexercised towards the gods is called religion; towards one'srelations, affection; towards all the world, goodness; when displayedin things entrusted to one, good faith; as exhibited in moderation ofpunishment, lenity; when it develops itself in goodwill towards anindividual its name is friendship. 

XXIII. And all these virtues are visible in practice. But there areothers, which are as it were the handmaidens and companions of wisdom;one of which distinguishes between and decides what arguments in adiscussion are true or false, and what follows from what premises. Andthis virtue is wholly placed in the system and theory of arguing; butthe other virtue belongs to the orator. For eloquence is nothing butwisdom speaking with great copiousness; and while derived from thesame source as that which is displayed in disputing, is more rich, andof wider application, better suited to excite the minds of men and towork on the feelings of the common people. But the guardian of allthe virtues, which avoids all conspicuousness, and yet attains thegreatest eminence of praise, is modesty. And these are for the mostpart certain habits of mind, so affected and disposed as to be each ofthem distinguished from one another by some peculiar kind of virtue;and according as everything is done by one of them, in the sameproportion must it be honourable and in the highest degreepraiseworthy. But there are other habits also of a well-instructedmind which has been cultivated beforehand as it were, and prepared forvirtue by virtuous pursuits and accomplishments: as in a man's privateaffairs, the studies of literature, as of tunes and sounds, ofmeasurement, of the stars, of horses, of hunting, of arms. In theaffairs of the commonwealth his eager pursuit of some particular kindof virtue, which he selects as his especial object of devotion, indischarging his duty to the gods, or in showing careful and remarkableaffection to his relations, his friends, or those connected withfamily ties of hospitality. And these then are the different kinds ofvirtue. But those of vice are their exact contraries. 

But these also must be examined carefully, so that those vices may notdeceive us which appear to imitate virtue. For cunning tries to assumethe character of prudence, and moroseness, in despising pleasures, wishes to be taken for temperance; and pride, which puffs a man up, and which affects to despise legitimate honours, seeks to vaunt itselfas magnanimity; prodigality calls itself liberality, audacity imitatescourage, hardhearted sternness imitates patience, bitterness justice, superstition religion, weakness of mind lenity, timidity modesty, captiousness and carping at words wishes to pass for acuteness inarguing, and an empty fluency of language for this oratorical vigourat which we are aiming. And those, too, appear akin to virtuouspursuits, which run to excess in the same class. 

Wherefore all the force of praise or blame must be derived from thesedivisions of virtues and vices. But in the whole context, as it were, of the oration, these points must above all others be made clear, --howeach person spoken of has been born, how he has been educated, howhe has been trained, and what are his habits; and if any great orsurprising thing has happened to any one, especially if anything whichhas happened should appear to have befallen him by the interpositionof the gods; and also whatever the person in question has thought, orsaid, or done, must be adapted to the different kinds of virtue whichhave been enumerated, and from the same topics we must inquire intothe causes of things, and the events, and the consequences. Nor oughtthe death of those men, whose life is praised, to be passed over insilence; provided only, there be anything noticeable either in themanner of their death, or in the consequences which have resulted fromtheir death. 

XXIV. _C. F. _ I have attended to what you say, and I have learntbriefly, not only how to praise another, but also how to endeavour todeserve to be praised myself. Let us, then, consider in the nextplace what system and what rules we are to observe in delivering oursentiments. 

_C. P. _ In deliberation, then, the end aimed at is utility, to whicheverything is referred in giving counsel, and in delivering oursentiments, so that the first thing which requires to be noticed byany one who is advising or dissuading from such and such a course ofaction is what is possible to be done, or what is impossible; or whatis necessary to be done, or what is unnecessary. For if a thing beimpossible there is no use in deliberating about it, however desirableit may be; and if a thing be necessary, (when I say necessary, I meansuch that without it we cannot be safe or free), then that mustbe preferred to everything else which is either honourable oradvantageous in public affairs. But when the question is, What can bedone? we must also consider how easily it can be done: for the thingswhich are very difficult are often to be considered in the samelight as if they were totally impossible. And when we are discussingnecessity, although there may be something which is not absolutelynecessary, still we must consider of how much importance it is. Forthat which is of very great importance indeed, is often considerednecessary. Therefore, as this kind of cause consists of persuasion anddissuasion, the speaker who is trying to persuade, has a simple coursebefore him; if a thing is both advantageous and possible, let it bedone. The speaker who is trying to dissuade his hearers from somecourse of action, has a twofold division of his labour. One, if it isnot useful it must not be done; the other, if it is impossible it mustnot be undertaken. And so, the speaker who is trying to persuade mustestablish both these points; the one whose object it is to dissuade, may be content with invalidating either. 

Since, then, all deliberation turns on these two points, let us firstspeak of utility, which is conversant about the distinction betweenadvantages and disadvantages. But of advantages, some are necessarilysuch; as life, chastity, liberty, or as children, wives, relations, parents; and some are not necessarily such; and of these last, someare to be sought for their own sakes, as those which are classed amongthe duties or virtues, and others are to be desired because theyproduce some advantage, as riches and influence. But of thoseadvantages which are sought for their own sake, some are sought fortheir honourableness, some for their convenience, which is inherentin them: those are sought for their honourableness which proceed fromthose virtues which have been mentioned a little while ago, which areintrinsically praiseworthy on their own account; but those are soughton account of some inherent advantage which are desirable as to goodsof fortune or of the body: some of which are to a certain extentcombined with honourableness, as honour, and glory; some have noconnexion with that, as strength, beauty, health, nobleness, riches, troops of dependents. There is also a certain sort of matter, asit were, which is subordinate to what is honourable, which is mostparticularly visible in friendship. But friendships are seen inaffection and in love. For regard for the gods, and for our parents, and for our country, and for those men who are eminent for wisdom orpower, is usually referred to affection; but wives, and children, and brothers, and others whom habit and intimacy has united with us, although they are bound to us by affection, yet the principal tieis love. As, then, you know now what is good in these things, it iseasily to be understood what are the contrary qualities. 

XXV. But if we were able always to preserve what is best, we shouldnot have much need of deliberation, since that is usually veryevident. But because it often happens on account of some peculiarityin the times, which has great weight, that expediency is at variancewith what is honourable, and since the comparison of the twoprinciples gives rise to deliberation, lest we should either pass overwhat is seasonable, on account of some considerations of dignity, orwhat is honourable on account of some idea of expediency, we may giveexamples to guide us in explaining this difficulty. And since anoration must be adapted not only to truth, but also to the opinions ofthe hearers, let us first consider this, that there are two kinds ofmen: one of them unlettered and rustic, always preferring what isexpedient to what is honourable; the other, accomplished and polite, preferring dignity to everything. Therefore, the one class sets itsheart upon, praise, honour, glory, good faith, justice, and everyvirtue; but the other regards only gain, emolument, and profit. Andeven pleasure, which is above all things hostile to virtue, and whichadulterates the nature of what is good by a treacherous imitation ofit, which all men of grosser ideas eagerly follow, and which prefersthat spurious copy, not only to what is honourable, but even to whatis necessary, must often be praised in a speech aiming at persuasion, when you are giving counsel to men of that sort. 

XXVI. This also must be considered, how much greater eagerness mendisplay in fleeing from what is disadvantageous, than in seeking whatis advantageous; for they are in the same manner not so zealous inseeking what is honourable, as in avoiding what is base. For whoever seeks for honour, or glory, or praise, or any kind of credit asearnestly as he flees from ignominy, infamy, contumely, and disgrace?For these things are attended with great pain. There is a class ofmen born for honour, not corrupted by evil training and pervertedopinions--on which account, when exhorting or persuading, we must keepin view the object of teaching them by what means we may be able toarrive at what is good, and to avoid what is evil. But before men whohave been properly brought up we shall dwell chiefly on praise andhonourableness, and speak chiefly of those kinds of virtues which areconcerned in maintaining and increasing the general advantage of men. But if we are speaking before uneducated and ignorant men, then weshall set before them profits, emoluments, pleasures, and the meansof escaping pain; we shall also introduce the mention of insult andignominy; for no one is such a clown, as not (even though honouritself may have no influence on him) to be greatly moved by insult anddisgrace. 

Wherefore we must find out from what has been already said, what hasreference to utility; but as to what is possible to be done or not, with reference to which people usually inquire also how easily a thingcan be done, and how far it is desirable that it should be done, wemust consider chiefly with reference to those causes which produceeach separate result. For there are some causes which of themselvesproduce results, and some which only contribute to the production of aresult. Therefore, the first are called efficient causes; and thelast are classed as such, that without them a thing cannot be broughtabout. Again, of efficient causes, some are complete and perfect inthemselves; some are accessory to, and, as it were, partners in theproduction of the result in question. And of this kind the effect isvery much diversified, being sometimes greater or less; so that whichis the most efficacious is often called the only cause, though it isin reality but the main one. There are also other causes which, eitheron account of their origin or on account of their result, are calledefficient causes. But when the question is, what is best to be done, then it is either utility or the hope of doing it which urges men'sminds to agree with the speaker. And since we have now said enoughabout utility, let us speak of the means of effecting it. 

XXVII. And on this point of the subject we must consider with whom, and against whom, and at what time, and in what place we are to dosuch and such a thing, also what means of arms, money, allies, orthose other things which relate to the doing of any particular thingwe have it in our power to employ. Nor must we consider onlythose means which we have, but those circumstances also whichare unfavourable to us. And if in the comparison the advantagespreponderate, then we must persuade our hearers, not only that what weare advising can be effected, but we must also take care that it shallappear easy, manageable, and agreeable. But if we are dissuading fromany particular course, then we must either disparage the utility ofit, or we must make the most of the difficulties of doing it, nothaving recourse to other rules, but to the same topics as areused when trying to persuade our hearers to anything. And whetherpersuading or dissuading, the speaker must have a store of precedents, either modern, which will be the best known, or ancient, which willperhaps have the most weight. And in this kind of discourse he mustconsider how he may be able often to make what is useful or necessaryappear superior to what is honourable, or _vice versā_. But sentimentsof this kind will have great weight in influencing men's minds, (if itis desirable to make an impression on them, ) which relate either tothe gratification of people's desires, or to the glutting of hatred, or to the avenging of injury. But if the object is to repress thefeelings of the hearers, then they must be reminded of the uncertaintyof fortune, of the doubtfulness of future events, and of the riskthere may be of retaining their existing fortune, if it is good; andon the other hand, of the danger of its lasting if it is bad. Andthese are topics for a peroration. But in expressing one's opinions, the opening ought to be short, for the orator does not come forth as asuppliant, as if he were speaking before a judge, but as an exhorterand adviser. Wherefore, he ought to settle beforehand with whatintention he is going to speak, what his object is, what the subjectof his discourse is to be, and he ought to exhort his hearers tolisten to him while he detains them but a short time. And the whole ofhis oration ought to be simple, and dignified, and embellished ratherby its sentiments than by its expressions. 

XXVIII. _C. F. _ I understand the topics of panegyric and persuasion. Now I am waiting to hear what is suited to judicial oratory, and Ithink that that is the only subject remaining. 

_C. P. _ You are quite right. And of that kind of oratory the object isequity, which is regarded, not in a single point of view only, butvery often by a sort of comparison: as when there is a dispute as towho is the most appropriate prosecutor; or when the possession of aninheritance is sought for without any express law, or without anywill. In which causes the question is, which alternative is the moreequitable or which is most equitable. And for these causes a supply ofarguments is sought for out of those topics of equity which will bementioned presently. And even before the decision is given, there isoften a dispute about the constitution of the bench of judges, whenthe question is either whether the person who brings the action has aright of action, or whether he has it at the present time, or whetherhe has ceased to have it, or whether the action ought to be broughtunder the provisions of this law, or according to that formula. Andif these points are not discussed, or settled, or decided, before thecase is brought into court, still they often have very great weighteven at the trial itself, when the case is stated in this way:--"Youdemanded too much; you demanded it too late; it was not your businessto make such a demand at all; you ought not to have demanded it of me;or you ought not to have done so under this law, or in accordance withthis formula, or in this court. " And this class of cases belongsto civil law, which depends on laws respecting public and privateaffairs, or on precedent; and the knowledge of it seems to have beenneglected by most orators, but to us it appears very necessary forspeaking. Wherefore, as to arranging the right of action, as toaccepting or standing a trial, as to demurring to the illegality ofa proceeding, as to comparisons of justice, all which topics usuallybelong to this class of oration, so that although they often get mixedup with the judicial proceedings, still they appear to deserve to bediscussed separately; and therefore I separate them a little from thejudicial proceedings, more, however, as to the time at which they areto be introduced into the discussion, than from any real diversity ofcharacter. For all discussions which are introduced about civil law, or about what is just and good, belong to that sort of discussion inwhich we doubt what sort of thing such and such a thing which we aregoing to mention is. And this question turns chiefly on equity andright. 

XXIX. In all causes, then, there are three degrees, of which one atleast is to be taken for the purposes of defence, if you are limitedto one. For you must either take your stand in denying that the actimputed to you has been done at all, or in denying that that which youadmit to have been done has the effect which, and is of the characterwhich, the adversary asserts. Or if there can be no doubt as to theaction, or the proper name of the action, then you must deny that whatyou are accused of is such as he states it to be; and you must urgein your defence that what you have done must be admitted to be right. Accordingly, the first objection, --the first point of conflict withthe adversary, as I may call it, depends on a kind of conjecture; thesecond, on a kind of definition, or description, or notion of theword; but the third plea is to be maintained by a discussion onequity, and truth, and right, and on the becomingness to man of adisposition inclined to pardon. And since he who defends oughtnot always to resist the accuser by some objection, or denial, ordefinition, or opposite principles of equity, but should also at timesadvance general principles on which he founds his defence, the firstkind of objection has in it the principle of asserting the charge tobe unjust, an absolute denial of the fact; the second urges that thedefinition given by the adversary does not apply to the action inquestion the third consists in the advocate defending the action ashaving been rightly done, without raising any dispute as to the nameof it. 

In the next place, the accuser must oppose to every argument that, which if it were not in the accusation, would prevent, there being anycause at all. Therefore, those arguments which are brought forward inthat way, are said to be the foundations of causes, although thosewhich are brought forward in opposition to the plan of the defence, are no more so in reality than the principles of the defencethemselves; but for the sake of distinction, we call that a reasonwhich is urged by the party on his trial in the way of demurrer forthe sake of repelling an accusation; and unless he had such a refugehe would have nothing to allege by way of defence: but the foundationof his defence is that which is alleged by way of undermining thearguments of the adversary, without which the accusation can have noground to stand upon. 

XXX. But from the meeting and conflict, as it were, of the reasonsand of the corroborative proofs, a question arises, which I call adispute, in which the question is, what is the question before thecourt, and what the dispute is about. For the first point whichthe adversaries contend for implies an inquiry of large extent inconjecture: as "Whether Decius has received the money;" in definition, as "Whether Norbanus has committed treason against the people;" injustice, as "Whether Opimius slew Gracchus lawfully. " These questionswhich come into conflict first by arguing and resisting, are, as Ihave said, of wide extent and doubtful meaning. The comparison of thearguments and corroborative proofs narrows the question in dispute. Inconjecture there is no dispute at all. For no one either can, or oughtto, or is accustomed to, give a reason for an act which he assertsnever took place. Therefore, in these causes the original question andthe ultimate dispute are one and the same thing. But in them, when theassertion is advanced, "He did not commit treason in proceeding toviolent measures in respect to Caepio; for it was the first indignationof the Roman people that prompted that violent conduct, and not theconduct of the tribune: and the majesty, since it is identicalwith the greatness of the Roman people, was rather increased thandiminished by retaining that man in power and office. " And when thereply is, "Majesty consists of the dignity of the empire and name ofthe Roman people, which that man impairs, who excites sedition byappealing to the violent passions of the multitude;" then comes thedispute, Whether his conduct was calculated to impair that majesty, who acted upon the inclinations of the roman people, so as to do athing which was both just and acceptable to them by means of violence. But in such causes as these, when it is alleged in defence of theaccused party that something has been rightly done, or when it must beadmitted that it has been done, while the principle of the act is opento discussion: as in the case of Opimius, "I did it lawfully, for thesake of preserving the general safety and the republic;" and whenDecius replies, "You had no power or right to slay even the wickedestof the citizens without a trial. " Then arises the dispute, "HadOpimius lawfully the power, for the sake of the safety of therepublic, to put to death a citizen who was overturning the republic, without his being condemned?" And so those disputes which arise inthese controversies which are marked out by certain persons and timesbecome gradually infinite, and after the times and persons are put outof the question, are again reduced to the form and rules under whichtheir merits can be discussed. 

XXXI. But in corroborative arguments of the most important character, those points must also be established which can be opposed to thedefence, being derived either from the letter of the law, or ofa will, or from the language of a judicial decision, or of astipulation, or of a covenant. And even this kind has no connexionwith those causes which depend upon conjecture. For when an action isdenied altogether, it cannot be impeached by reference to the letterof the law. It does not even come under definition, as to thecharacter of the letter of the law itself. For although someexpression or other is to be defined by reference to the letter of thelaw, so as to be sure what meaning it has: as when the question arisesout of a will, what is meant by provisions, or out of the covenant ofa lease, what are moveables or fixtures; then it is not the fact ofthere being written documents, but the interpretation of what iswritten, that gives rise to controversy. But when many things may beimplied by one expression, on account of the ambiguity of some word orwords, so that he who is speaking on the other side may be allowed todraw the meaning of what is written as is advantageous to him, or infact, as he pleases; or, if the document be not drawn up in ambiguouslanguage, he may either deduce the wish and intention of the writerfrom the words, or else say that he can defend what has been done by adocument which is perfectly different relating to the same facts; thena dispute arises from a comparison of the two written documents; sothat the writings being ambiguous, it is a question which is moststrongly implied; and in a comparison between the letter and thespirit of the documents an argument is adduced to show which thejudge is the most bound to be guided by; or in documents of a whollycontradictory nature, which is the most to be approved. 

But when the point in dispute is once established, then the oratorought to keep in view, what is to be proved by all the argumentsderived from the different topics for discovering arguments. Andalthough it is quite sufficient for him who sees what is concealed ineach topic, and who has all those topics, as a kind of treasury ofarguments, at his fingers' ends; still we will touch upon those whichare peculiar to certain causes. 

XXXII. In conjecture, then, when the person on his trial takes refugein denial of the fact, these are the two first things for the accuserto consider, (I say accuser, meaning every kind of plaintiff orcommencer of an action; for even without any accuser, in the strictsense of the word, these same kinds of controversies may frequentlyarise;) however, these are his first points for consideration, thecause and the event. When I say the cause, I mean the reason for doinga thing. When I say the event, I mean that which was done. And thissame division of cases was made just now, when speaking of the topicsof persuasion. For the rules which were given in deliberating upon thefuture, and how they ought to have a bearing upon utility, or a powerof producing effects, a man who is arguing upon a fact is bound tocollect, so as to show that they must have been useful to the man whomhe is accusing, and that the act might possibly have been done by him. The question of utility, as far as it depends upon conjecture, isopened, if the accused person is said to have done the act of which heis accused, either out of the hope of advantage or the fear of injury. And this argument has the greater weight, the greater the advantagesor disadvantages anticipated are said to be. With reference to themotive for an action we take into consideration also the feelings ofminds, if any recent anger, or long-standing grudge, or desire forrevenge, or indignation at an injury; if any eagerness for honour, orglory, or command, or riches; if any fear of danger, any debt, anydifficulties in pecuniary matters, have had influence; if the man isbold, or fickle, or cruel, or intemperate, or incautious, or foolish, or loving, or excitable, or given to wine; if he had any hope ofgaining his point, or any expectation of concealing his conduct; or, if that were detected, any hope of repelling the charge, or breakingthrough the danger, or even postponing it to a subsequent time; or ifthe penalty to be inflicted by a court of justice is more triflingthan the prize to be gained by the act; or if the pleasure of thecrime is greater than the pain of the conviction. 

It is generally by such circumstances as these that the suspicion ofan act is confirmed, when the causes why he should have desired it arefound to exist in the party accused, together with the means ofdoing it. But in his will we look for the benefit which he may havecalculated on from the attainment of some advantage, or the avoidanceof some disadvantage, so that either hope or fear may seem to haveinstigated him, or else some sudden impulse of the mind, which impelsmen more swiftly to evil courses than even considerations of utility. So this is enough to have said about the causes. 

_C. F. _ I understand; and I ask you now what the events are which youhave said are produced by such causes?

XXXIII. _C. P. _ They are certain consequential signs of what is past, certain traces of what has been done, deeply imprinted, which have agreat tendency to engender suspicion, and are, as it were, a silentevidence of crimes, and so much the more weighty because all causesappear as a general rule to be able to give ground for accusations, and to show for whose advantage anything was; and these arguments havean especial propriety of reference to those who are accused, such as aweapon, a footstep, blood, the detection of anything which appears tohave been carried off or taken away; or any reply inconsistent withthe truth, or any hesitation, or trepidation, or the fact of theaccused person having been seen with any one whose character is suchas to give rise to suspicion; or of his having been seen himself inthat very place in which the action was done; or paleness, or tremor, or any writing, or anything having been sealed up or depositedanywhere. For these are circumstances of such a nature as to make thecharge full of suspicion, either in connexion with the act itself, orwith the time previous or subsequent to it. And if they are not so, still it will be proper to rely on the causes themselves, and on themeans which the accused person had of doing the action, with theaddition of that general argument, that he was not so insane as to beunable to avoid or conceal any indications of the action, so as to bediscovered and to give ground for an accusation. On the other hand, there is that common topic, that audacity is joined to rashness, notto prudence. Besides, there comes the topic suited to amplification, that we are not to wait for his confessing; that offences are provedby arguments; and here, too, precedents will be adduced. And thus muchabout arguments. 

XXXIV. But if there is also a sufficiency of witnesses, the firstthing will be to praise the party accused, and to say that he himselfhas taken care not to be convicted by argument; that he could notescape from witnesses: then each of the witnesses must be praised, (and we have stated already what are the things for which peoplecan be praised;) and in the next place, it must be urged that it ispossible for it to be quite justifiable not to yield to a speciousargument, (inasmuch as such an one is often false, ) but quiteimpossible to refuse belief to a good and trusty man, unless there issome fault in the judge. And then, too, if the witnesses are obscureor insignificant, we must say that a man's credit is not to beestimated by his fortune, but that those are the most trustworthywitnesses on every point who have the easiest means of knowing thetruth of the matter under discussion. If the fact of an examination ofslaves under torture having taken place, or a demand that such shouldtake place, will assist the cause, then in the first place the generalcharacter of such examinations must be extolled: we must speak ofthe power of bodily pain; of the opinion of our ancestors, who wouldcertainly have abolished the whole system if they had not approved ofit; of the customs of the Athenians and Rhodians, very wise men, amongwhom (and that is a most terrible thing) even freemen and citizensare tortured; of the principles also of the most prudent of our owncountrymen, who though they are unwilling to allow slaves to beexamined against their masters, still did allow of such examination inthe case of incest and conspiracy, --and in fact such an examinationtook place in my consulship. That declamation which men are in thehabit of using to throw discredit on such examinations must be laughedout of court, and called studied and childish. Then a belief must beinculcated that the examination has been conducted with care, andwithout any partiality; and the answers given in the examination mustbe weighed by arguments and by conjecture. And these are for the mostpart the divisions of an accusation. 

XXXV. But the first division of a defence is the invalidating of themotives alleged for the action, --either as having no real existence, or as not having been so important, or as not having been likely toinfluence any one but the person accused; or we may urge that he couldhave attained the same object more easily; or that he is not a manof such habits, or of such a character; or that he was not so much aslave to sudden impulses, or at all events not to such trifling ones. And the advocate for the defence will disparage the means allegedto be in the power of the accused person, if he shows that eitherstrength, or courage, or power, or resources were wanting to him; orthat the time was unfavourable, or the place unsuitable; or that therewere many witnesses, not one of whom he would have chosen to trust; orthat he was not such a fool as to undertake a deed which he could notconceal; nor so senseless as to despise the penalties of the law andthe courts of justice. And he will do away with the effect of theconsequences alleged, by explaining that those things are not certainproofs of an act which might have happened even if the act had neverbeen done; and he will dwell on the details, and urge that they belongas much to what he himself alleges was the fact, as to that which isat present the ground of accusation: or if he agrees with the accuseron those points, still he will say that ought to be of avail rather asa defence to himself against danger, than as an engine for injuringhis safety; and he will run down the whole body of witnesses andexaminations under torture, generally, and also in detail as far ashe can, by the use of the topics of reprehension which have beenexplained already. The openings of these causes which are intended toexcite suspicion by their bitterness will be thus laid down by theaccuser; and the general danger of all intrigues will be denounced;and men's minds will be excited so as to listen attentively. But theperson who is being accused will bring forward complaints of chargeshaving been trumped up against him, and suspicions ferreted out fromall quarters; and he will speak of the intrigues of the accuser, andalso of the common danger of all citizens from such proceedings: andso he will try to move the minds of the judges to pity, and to excitetheir good-will in some degree. But the narration of the accuser willbe a separate count, as it were, which will contain an explanationof every sort of transaction liable to suspicion, with every kindof argument scattered over it, and all the topics for the defencediscredited. But the speaker for the defence must pass over ordiscredit all the arguments employed to raise suspicion, and willlimit himself to a narration of the actual facts and events which havetaken place. But in the corroboration of our own arguments, and in theinvalidation of those of our adversaries, it will be often the objectof the accuser to rouse the feelings of the minds of his hearers, andof the advocate for the defence to pacify them. And this will be thecourse of both of them especially in the peroration. The one musthave recourse to a reiteration of his arguments, and to a generalaccumulation of them together; the other, when he has once clearlyexplained his own cause, refuting the statements of his adversary, must have recourse to enumeration; and, when he has effaced everyunfavourable impression, then at the end he will endeavour to move thepity of his judges. 

XXXVI. _C. F. _ I think I know now how conjecture ought to be dealtwith. Let me hear you now on the subject of definition. 

_C. P. _ With respect to that the rules which are given are common tothe accuser and the defender. For whichever of them by his definitionand description of a word makes the greatest impression on thefeelings and opinions of the judges, and whichever keeps nearest tothe general meaning of the word, and to that preconceived opinionwhich those who are the hearers have adopted in their minds, mustinevitably get the better in the discussion. For this kind of topicis not handled by a regular argumentation, but by shaking out, as itwere, and unfolding the word; so that, if, for instance, in the caseof a criminal acquitted through bribery and then impeached a secondtime, the accuser were to define prevarication to be the uttercorruption of a tribunal by an accused person; and the defender wereto urge a counter definition, that it is not every sort of corruptionwhich is prevarication, but only the bribing of a prosecutor by adefendant: then, in the first place, there would be a contest betweenthe different alleged meanings of the word; in which case, thoughthe definition, if given by the speaker for the defence, approachesnearest to general usage and to the sense of common conversation, still the accuser relies on the spirit of the law, for he says that itought not to be admitted that those men who framed the laws considereda judicial decision as ratified when wholly corrupt, but that if evenone judge be corrupted, the decision should be annulled. He relies onequity; he urges that the law ought to have been framed differently, if that was what was meant; but that the truth is, that whatever kindsof corruption could possibly exist were all meant to be included underthe one term prevarication. But the speaker for the defence will bringforward on his side the usage of common conversation; and he will seekthe meaning of the word from its contrary; from a genuine accuser, to whom a prevarication is the exact opposite; or from consequents, because the tablets are given to the judge by the accuser; and fromthe name itself, which signifies a man who in contrary causes appearsto be placed, as it were, in various positions. But still he himselfwill be forced to have recourse to topics of equity, to the authorityof precedents, and to some dangerous result. And this may be a generalrule, that when each has stated his definition, keeping as accuratelyas he can to the common sense and meaning of the word, he should thenconfirm his own meaning and definition by similar definitions, and bythe examples of those men who have spoken in the same way. 

And in this kind of cause that will be a common topic for theaccuser, --that it must never be permitted that the man who confesses afact, should defend himself by a new interpretation of the name of it. But the defender must rely on those general principles of equity whichI have mentioned, and he must complain that, while that is on hisside, he is weighed down not by facts, but by the perverted use of aword; and while speaking thus he will be able to introduce many topicssuited to aid him in discovering arguments. For he will avail himselfof resemblances, and contrarieties, and consequences; and althoughboth parties will do this, still the defendant, unless his cause isevidently ridiculous, will do so more frequently. But the things whichare in the habit of being said, for the sake of amplification, or inthe way of digression, or when men are summing up, are introducedeither to excite hatred, or pity, or to work on the feelings of thejudges by means of those arguments which have been already given;provided that the importance of the facts, or the envy of men, or thedignity of the parties, will allow of it. 

XXXVII. _C. F. _ I understand that. Now I wish to hear you speak of thatpart which, when the question is what is the character of such andsuch a transaction, will be suitable both for the accusation and alsofor the defence. 

_C. P. _ In a cause of that kind those who are accused confess that theydid the very thing for which they are blamed; but since they allegethat they did it lawfully, it is necessary for us to explain thewhole principles of law. And that is divided into two principaldivisions, --natural law and statute law. And the power of each ofthese is again distributed into human law and divine law; one of whichrefers to equity and the other to religion. But the power of equityis two-fold: one part of which is upheld by considerations of what isstraightforward, and true, and just, and, as it is said, equitable andvirtuous; the other refers chiefly to requiting things done to onesuitably, --which in the case of that which is to be requited being akindness, is called gratitude, but when it is an injury, it is calledrevenge. And these principles are common both to natural and statutelaw. But there are also other divisions of law; for there is both thewritten and the unwritten law, --each of which is maintained by therights of nations and the customs of our ancestors. Again, writtenlaw is divided into public law and private law. Public law is laws, resolutions of the senate, treaties; private law is accounts, covenants, agreements, stipulations. 

But those laws which are unwritten, owe their influence either tocustom or to some agreement between, and as it were to the commonconsent of men. And indeed it is in some degree prescribed to us bythe laws of nature, that we are to uphold our customs and laws. Andsince the foundations of equity have been briefly explained in thismanner, we ought to meditate carefully, with reference to causes ofthis kind, on what is to be said in our speeches about nature, andlaws, and the customs of our ancestors, and the repelling of injuries, and revenge, and every portion of human rights. If a man has doneanything unintentionally, or through necessity, or by accident, whichmen would not be excused for doing if they did it of their own accordand intentionally, by way of deprecating punishment for the action heshould implore pardon and indulgence, founding his petition on manytopics of equity. I have now explained as well as I could every kindof controversy, unless there is anything besides which you wish toknow. 

XXXVIII. _C. F. _ I wish to know that which appears to me to be theonly point left, --what is to be done when the discussion turns uponexpressions in written documents. 

_C. P. _ You are right to ask: for when that is explained I shall havedischarged the whole of the task which I have undertaken. The rulesthen which relate to ambiguity are common to both parties. For each ofthem will urge that the signification which he himself adopts is theone suited to the wisdom of the framer of the document; each of themwill urge that that sense which his adversary says is to be gatheredfrom the ambiguous expression in the writing, is either absurd, or inexpedient, or unjust, or discreditable, or again that it isinconsistent with other written expressions, either of other men, or, if possible, of the same man. And he will urge further that themeaning which he himself contends for is the one which would have beenintended by every sensible and respectable man; and that such an onewould express himself more plainly if the case were to come overagain, and that the meaning which he asserts to be the proper one hasnothing in it to which objection can be made, or with which any faultcan be found; but that if the contrary meaning is admitted, manyvices, many foolish, unjust, and inconsistent consequences mustfollow. But when it appears that the writer meant one thing and wroteanother, then he who relies on the letter of the law must firstexplain the circumstances of the case, and then recite the law; thenhe must press his opponent, repeat the law, reiterate it, and askhim whether he denies that that is the expression contained in thewriting, or whether he denies the facts of the case. After that hemust invoke the judge to maintain the letter of the law. When he hasdwelt on this sort of corroborative argument he must amplify his caseby praising the law, and attack the audacity of the man who, when hehas openly violated it, and confesses that he has done so, still comesforward and defends his conduct. Then he must invalidate the defencewhen his opponent says that the writer meant one thing and wroteanother, and say that it is intolerable that the meaning of the framerof the law should be explained by any one else in preference to thelaw itself. Why did he write down such words if he did not mean them?Why does the opponent, while he neglects what is plainly written, bring forward what is not written anywhere? Why should he think thatmen who were most careful in what they wrote are to be convicted ofextreme folly? What could have hindered the framer of this law frommaking this exception which the opponent contends that he intended tomake, if he really had intended it? He will then bring forward thoseinstances where the same writer has made a similar exception, or ifhe cannot do that, at least he will cite cases where others have madesimilar exceptions. For a reason must be sought for, if it is possibleto find one, why this exception was not made in this case. The lawmust be stated to be likely to be unjust, or useless, or else thatthere is a reason for obeying part of it, and for abrogating part; itmust be that the argument of the opponent and the law are at variance. And then, by way of amplification, it will be proper, both in otherparts of the speech, and above all in the peroration, to speak withgreat dignity and energy about the desirableness of maintaining thelaws, and of the danger with which all public and private affairs arethreatened. 

XXXIX. But he who defends himself by appeals to the spirit andintention of the law, will urge that the force of the law depends onthe mind and design of the framer, not on words and letters. And hewill praise him for having mentioned no exceptions in his law, soas to leave no refuge for offences, and so as to bind the judge tointerpret the intention of the law according to the actions of eachindividual. Then he must cite instances in which all equity will bedisturbed if the words of the law are attended to and not the meaning. Then all cunning and false accusation must be endeavoured to be putbefore the judge in an odious light, and complaints uttered in atone of indignation. If the action in question has been doneunintentionally, or by accident, or by compulsion, rather than inconsequence of any premeditation, --and actions of those kinds we havealready discussed, --then it will be well to use the same topics ofequity to counteract the effect of the harshness of the language. 

But if the written laws contradict one another, then the connexion ofart is such, and most of its principles are so connected and linkedtogether, that the rules which we a little while ago laid down forcases of ambiguity, and which have just been given with reference tothe letter and spirit of the law, may be all transferred to this thirddivision also. For the topics by which, in the case of an ambiguousexpression, we defended that meaning which is favourable to ourargument must also be used to defend the law which is favourable to uswhen there are inconsistent laws. In the next place, we must contriveto defend the spirit of one law, and the letter of the other. And sothe rules which were just now given relating to the spirit and letterof the law may all be transferred to this subject. 

XL. I have now explained to you all the divisions of oratory whichhave prevailed, as laid down by the academy to which we are devoted, and if it had not been for that academy they could not have beendiscovered, or understood, or discussed. For the mere act of division, and of definition, and the distribution of the partitions of adoubtful question, and the understanding the topics of arguments, andthe arranging the argumentation itself properly, and the discerningwhat ought to be assumed in arguing, and what follows from what hasbeen assumed, and the distinguishing what is true from what is false, and what is probable from what is incredible, and refuting assumptionswhich are not legitimate, or which are inappropriate, and discussingall these different points either concisely as those do who are calleddialecticians, or copiously as an orator should do, are all fruits ofthe practice in disputing with acuteness and speaking with fluency, which is instilled into the disciples of that academy. And without aknowledge of these most important arts how can an orator have eitherenergy or variety in his discourse, so as to speak properly of thingsgood or bad, just or unjust, useful or useless, honourable or base?

Let these rules then, my Cicero, which I have now explained to you, beto you a sort of guide to those fountains of eloquence, and if undermy instruction or that of others you arrive at them, you will thenacquire a clearer understanding of these things and of others whichare much more important. 

_C. F. _ I will strive to arrive at them with great eagerness, myfather; and I do not think that there is any greater advantage which Ican derive even from your many excellent kindnesses to me. 

THE TREATISE OF M. T. CICERO ON THE BEST STYLE OF ORATORS. 

This little piece was composed by Cicero as a sort of preface to histranslation of the Orations of Demosthenes and Aeschines de Corona; thetranslations themselves have not come down to us. 

I. There are said to be classes of orators as there are of poets. Butit is not so; for of poets there are a great many divisions; for oftragic, comic, epic, lyric, and also of dithyrambic poetry, which hasbeen more cultivated by the Latins, each kind is very different fromthe rest. Therefore in tragedy anything comic is a defect, and incomedy anything tragic is out of place. And in the other kinds ofpoetry each has its own appropriate note, and a tone well known tothose who understand the subject. But if any one were to enumeratemany classes of orators, describing some as grand, and dignified, and copious, others as thin, or subtle, or concise, and others assomething between the two and in the middle as it were, he would besaying something of the men, but very little of the matter. For as tothe matter, we seek to know what is the best; but as to the man, westate what is the real case. Therefore if any one likes, he has aright to call Ennius a consummate epic poet, and Pacuvius an excellenttragic poet, and Caecilius perhaps a perfect comic poet. But I do notdivide the orator as to class in this way. For I am seeking a perfectone. And of perfection there is only one kind; and those who fallshort of it do not differ in kind, as Attius does from Terentius; butthey are of the same kind, only of unequal merit. For he is the bestorator who by speaking both teaches, and delights, and moves theminds of his hearers. To teach them is his duty, to delight them iscreditable to him, to move them is indispensable. It must be grantedthat one person succeeds better in this than another; but that is nota difference of kind but of degree. Perfection is one thing; thatis next to it which is most like it; from which consideration it isevident that that which is most unlike perfection is the worst. 

II. For, since eloquence consists of words and sentences, we mustendeavour, by speaking in a pure and correct manner, that is to say ingood Latin, to attain an elegance of expression with words appropriateand metaphorical. As to the appropriate words, selecting those whichare most suitable; and when indulging in metaphor, studying topreserve a proper resemblance, and to be modest in our use of foreignterms. But of sentences, there are as many different kinds as Ihave said there are of panegyrics. For if teaching, we want shrewdsentences; if aiming at giving pleasure, we want musical ones; ifat exciting the feelings, dignified ones. But there is a certainarrangement of words which produces both harmony and smoothness; anddifferent sentiments have different arrangements suitable to them, andan order naturally calculated to prove their point; but of allthose things memory is the foundation, (just as a building has afoundation, ) and action is the light. The man, then, in whom allthese qualities are found in the highest perfection, will be the mostskilful orator; he in whom they exist in a moderate degree will be amediocre orator: he in whom they are found to the slightest extentwill be the most inferior sort of orator. All these, indeed, will becalled orators, just as bad painters are still called painters; notdiffering from one another in kind, but in ability. So there is noorator who would not like to resemble Demosthenes; but Menander didnot want to be like Homer, for his style was different. 

This difference does not exist in orators; or if there be any suchdifference, that one avoiding gravity aims rather at subtlety; and onthe other hand, that another desires to show himself acute ratherthan polished: such men, although they may be tolerable orators, arecertainly not perfect ones; since that is perfection which combinesevery kind of excellence. 

III. I have stated these things with greater brevity than the subjectdeserves; but still, with reference to my present object, it wasnot worth while being more prolix. For as there is but one kind ofeloquence, what we are seeking to ascertain is what kind it is. And itis such as flourished at Athens; and in which the genius of the Atticorators is hardly comprehended by us, though their glory is known tous. For many have perceived this fact, that there is nothing faultyin them: few have discerned the other point; namely, how much in themthere is that is praiseworthy. For it is a fault in a sentence ifanything is absurd, or foreign to the subject, or stupid, or trivial;and it is a fault of language if any thing is gross, or abject, orunsuitable, or harsh, or far-fetched. Nearly all those men who areeither considered Attic orators or who speak in the Attic manner haveavoided these faults. But if that is all their merit, then they maydeserve to be regarded as sound and healthy, as if we were regardingathletes, to such an extent as to be allowed to exercise in thepalaestra, but not to be entitled to the crown at the Olympic games. For the athletes, who are free from defects, are not content as itwere with good health, but seek to produce strength and muscles andblood, and a certain agreeableness of complexion; let us imitate them, if we can; and if we cannot do so wholly, at least let us select asour models those who enjoy unimpaired health, (which is peculiar tothe Attic orators, ) rather than those whose abundance is vicious, ofwhom Asia has produced numbers. And in doing this (if at least we canmanage even this, for it is a mighty undertaking) let us imitate, ifwe can, Lysias, and especially his simplicity of style: for in manyplaces he rises to grandeur. But because he wrote speeches for manyprivate causes, and those too for others, and on very triflingsubjects, he appears to be somewhat simple, because he has designedlyfiled himself down to the standard of the inconsiderable causes whichhe was pleading. 

IV. And a man who acts in this way, even if he be not able to turn outa vigorous speaker as he wishes, may still deserve to be accounted anorator, though an inferior one; but even a great orator must oftenalso speak in the same manner in causes of that kind. And in this wayit happens that Demosthenes is at times able to speak with simplicity, though perhaps Lysias may not be able to arrive at grandeur. But ifmen think that, when an army was marshalled in the forum and in allthe temples round the forum, it was possible to speak in defence ofMilo, as if we had been speaking in a private cause before a singlejudge, they measure the power of eloquence by their own estimate oftheir own ability, and not by the nature of the case. Wherefore, sincesome people have got into a way of repeating that they themselves dospeak in an Attic manner, and others that none of us do so; the oneclass we may neglect, for the facts themselves are a sufficient answerto these men, since they are either not employed in causes, or whenthey are employed they are laughed at; for if the laughter whichthey excite were in approbation of them, that very fact would be acharacteristic of Attic speakers. But those who will not admit that wespeak in the Attic manner, but yet profess that they themselves arenot orators; if they have good ears and an intelligent judgment, maystill be consulted by us, as one respecting the character of a picturewould take the opinion of men who were incapable of making a picture, though not devoid of acuteness in judging of one. But if they placeall their intelligence in a certain fastidiousness of ear, and ifnothing lofty or magnificent ever pleases them, then let them say thatthey want something subtle and highly polished, and that they despisewhat is dignified and ornamented; but let them cease to assert thatthose men alone speak in the Attic manner, that is to say, in asound and correct one. But to speak with dignity and elegance andcopiousness is a characteristic of Attic orators. Need I say more? Isthere any doubt whether we wish our oration to be tolerable only, oralso admirable? For we are not asking now what sort of speaking isAttic: but what sort is best. And from this it is understood, sincethose who were Athenians were the best of the Greek orators, and sinceDemosthenes was beyond all comparison the best of them, that if anyone imitates them he will speak in the Attic manner, and in thebest manner, so that since the Attic orators are proposed to us forimitation, to speak well is to speak Attically. 

V. But as there was a great error as to the question, what kind ofeloquence that was, I have thought that it became me to undertake alabour which should be useful to studious men, though superfluousas far as I myself was concerned. For I have translated the mostillustrious orations of the two most eloquent of the Attic orators, spoken in opposition to one another: Aeschines and Demosthenes. And Ihave not translated them as a literal interpreter, but as an oratorgiving the same ideas in the same form and mould as it were, in wordsconformable to our manners; in doing which I did not consider itnecessary to give word for word, but I have preserved the characterand energy of the language throughout. For I did not consider thatmy duty was to render to the reader the precise number of words, butrather to give him all their weight. And this labour of mine will havethis result, that by it our countrymen may understand what to requireof those who wish to be accounted Attic speakers, and that they mayrecal them to, as it were, an acknowledged standard of eloquence. 

But then Thucydides will rise up; for some people admire hiseloquence. And they are quite right. But he has no connexion with theorator, which is the person of whom we are in search. For it isone thing to unfold the actions of men in a narration, and quite adifferent one to accuse and get rid of an accusation by arguing. It isone thing to fix a hearer's attention by a narration, and another toexcite his feelings. "But he uses beautiful language. " Is his languagefiner than Plato's? Nevertheless it is necessary for the orator whomwe are inquiring about, to explain forensic disputes by a style ofspeaking calculated at once to teach, to delight, and to excite. 

VI. Wherefore, if there is any one who professes that he intends toplead causes in the forum, following the style of Thucydides, no onewill ever suspect him of being endowed with that kind of eloquencewhich is suited to affairs of state or to the bar. But if he iscontent with praising Thucydides, then he may add my vote to his own. Moreover, even Isocrates himself, whom that divine author, Plato, whowas nearly his contemporary, has represented in the Phaedrus as beinghighly extolled by Socrates, and whom all learned men have called aconsummate orator, I do not class among the number of those who are tobe taken for models. For he is not engaged in actual conflict; he isnot armed for the fray; his speeches are made for display, like foils. I will rather, (to compare small things with great, ) bring on thestage a most noble pair of gladiators. Aeschines shall come on likeaeserninus, as Lucilius says--

 "No ordinary man, but fearless all, And skill'd his arms to wield--his equal match Pacideianus stands, than whom the world Since the first birth of man hath seen no greater. "

For I do not think that anything can be imagined more divine than thatorator. Now this labour of mine is found fault with by two kinds ofcritics. One set says, "But the Greek is better. " And I ask themwhether the authors themselves could have clothed their speechesin better Latin? The others say, "Why should I rather read thetranslation than the original?" Yet those same men read the Andria andthe Synephebi; and are not less fond of Terence and Caecilius than ofMenander. They must then discard the Andromache, and the Antiope, andthe Epigoni in Latin. But yet, in fact, they read Ennius and Pacuviusand Attius more than Euripides and Sophocles. What then is the meaningof this contempt of theirs for orations translated from the Greek, when they have no objection to translated verses?

VII. However, let us now come to the task which we have undertaken, when we have just explained what the cause is which is before thecourt. 

As there was a law at Athens, that no one should be the cause ofcarrying a decree of the people that any one should be presented witha crown while invested with office till he had given in an account ofthe way in which he had discharged its duties; and another law, thatthose who had crowns given them by the people ought to receive them inthe assembly of the people, and that they who had them given to themby the senate should receive them in the senate; Demosthenes wasappointed a superintendent of repairs of the walls; and he did it athis own expense. Therefore, with reference to him Ctesiphon proposeda decree, without his having given in any accounts, that he should bepresented with a golden crown, and that that presentation should takeplace in the theatre, the people being summoned for the purpose, (thatis not the legitimate place for an assembly of the people;) and thatproclamation should be made, "that he received this present on accountof his virtue and devotion to the state, and to the Athenian people. "Aeschines then prosecuted this man Ctesiphon because he had proposeda decree contrary to the laws, to the effect that a crown should begiven when no accounts had been delivered, and that it should bepresented in the theatre, and that he had made false statements in thewords of his motion concerning Demosthenes's virtue and loyalty; sinceDemosthenes was not a good man, and was not one who had deserved wellof the state. 

That kind of cause is indeed inconsistent with the precedentsestablished by our habits; but still it has an imposing look. For ithas on each side of the question a sufficiently clever interpretationof the laws, and a very grave contest as to the respective servicesdone by the two rival orators to the republic. Therefore the object ofAeschines was, since he himself had been prosecuted on a capital chargeby Demosthenes, for having given a false account of his embassy, thatnow a trial should take place affecting the conduct and character ofDemosthenes, that so, under pretence of prosecuting Ctesiphon, hemight avenge himself on his enemy. For he did not say so much aboutthe accounts not having been delivered, as to the point that a verybad citizen had been praised as an excellent. 

Aeschines instituted this prosecution against Ctesiphon four yearsbefore the death of Philip of Macedon. But the decision took place afew years afterwards; when Alexander had become master of Asia. And itis said that all Greece thronged to hear the issue of the trial. Forwhat was ever better worth going to see, or better worth hearing, than the contest of two consummate orators in a most important cause, inflamed and sharpened by private enmity?

If then, as I trust, I have given such a copy of their speeches, usingall their excellencies, that is to say, their sentiments, and theirfigures, and the order of their facts; adhering to their words only sofar as they are not inconsistent with our customs, (and though theymay not be all translated from the Greek, still I have taken painsthat they should be of the same class, ) then there will be a standardto which the orations of those men must be directed who wish to speakAttically. But I have said enough of myself--let us now hear Aeschinesspeaking in Latin. (_These Orations are not extant_. )

END OF THE TREATISE. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Dolabella had been married to Cicero's daughter Tullia, but was divorced from her. ]

[Footnote 2: The name was given them early. Juvenal, who wrote withina hundred years of Cicero's time, calls them "divina Philippica. "]

[Footnote 3: This meeting took place on the third day after Caesar'sdeath. ]

[Footnote 4: [Greek: Mae mnaesikakin]. ]

[Footnote 5: The hook was to drag his carcass along the streets tothrow it into the Tiber. So Juvenal says--

 "Sejanus ducitur unco Spectandus. "--x. 66. ]

[Footnote 6: This refers to a pillar that was raised in the forumin honour of Caesar, with the inscription, "To the Father of hisCountry. "]

[Footnote 7: _See_ Philippic 2. ]

[Footnote 8: This was the name of a legion raised by Caesar in Gaul, and called so, probably, from the ornament worn on their helmet. ]

[Footnote 9: He meant to insinuate that Antonius had been forgingCaesar's handwriting and signature]

[Footnote 10: Fulvia, who had been the wife of Clodius, and afterwardsof Curio, was now the wife of Antonius. ]

[Footnote 11: These were the names of slaves. ]

[Footnote 12: Ityra was a town at the foot of Mount Taurus. ]

[Footnote 13: Brutus was the Praetor urbanus this year, and thatofficer's duty confined him to the city; and he was forbidden by lawto be absent more than ten days at a time during his year of office. ]

[Footnote 14: I have translated _jugerum_ "an acre, " because itis usually so translated, but in point of fact it was not quitetwo-thirds of an English acre. At the same time it was nearly threetimes as large as the Greek [Greek: plethros] such by the fault offortune and not by his own. You assumed the manly gown, which you soonmade a womanly one: at first a public prostitute, with a regular pricefor your wickedness, and that not a low one. But very soon Curiostepped in, who carried you off from your public trade, and, as if hehad bestowed a matron's robe upon you, settled you in a steady anddurable wedlock. No boy bought for the gratification of passion wasever so wholly in the power of his master as you were in Curio's. Howoften has his father turned you out of his house? How often has heplaced guards to prevent you from entering? while you, with nightfor your accomplice, lust for your encourager, and wages for yourcompeller, were let down through the roof. That house could no longerendure your wickedness. Do you not know that I am speaking of matterswith which I am thoroughly acquainted? Remember that time when Curio, the father, lay weeping in his bed; his son throwing himself at myfeet with tears recommended to me you; he entreated me to defend youagainst his own father, if he demanded six millions of sesterces ofyou; for that he had been bail for you to that amount. And he himself, burning with love, declared positively that because he was unableto bear the misery of being separated from you, he should go intobanishment. And at that time what misery of that most nourishingfamily did I allay, or rather did I remove! I persuaded the father topay the son's debts; to release the young man, endowed as he was withgreat promise of courage and ability, by the sacrifice of part of hisfamily estate; and to use his privileges and authority as a fatherto prohibit him not only from all intimacy with, but from everyopportunity of meeting you. When you recollected that all this wasdone by me, would you have dared to provoke me by abuse if you had notbeen trusting to those swords which we behold?]

[Footnote 15: Sisapo was a town in Spain, celebrated for some mines ofvermilion, which were farmed by a company. ]

[Footnote 16: She was a courtesan who had been enfranchised by hermaster Volumnius. The name of Volumnia was dear to the Romans as thatof the wife of Coriolanus, to whose entreaties he had yielded when hedrew off his army from the neighbourhood of Rome. ]

[Footnote 17: This is a play on the name Hippia, as derived from[Greek: hippos], a horse. ]

[Footnote 18: The custom of erecting a spear wherever an auctionwas held is well known, it is said to have arisen from the ancientpractice of selling under a spear the booty acquired in war. ]

[Footnote 19: There seems some corruption here. Orellius apparentlythinks the case hopeless. ]

[Footnote 20: The Latin is, "non solum de die, sed etiam in diem, vivere;" which the commentators explain, "_De die_ is to feast everyday and all day. Banquets _de die_ are those which begin before theregular hour. " (Like Horace's _Partem solido demere de die_. ) "Tolive _in diem_ is to live so as to have no thought for thefuture. "--Graevius. ]

[Footnote 21: This accidental resemblance to the incident in the"Forty Thieves" in the "Arabian Nights" is curious. ]

[Footnote 22: The _septemviri, _ at full length _septemviri epulones_or _epulonum_, were originally triumviri. They were first created BC. 198, to attend to the _epulum Jovis_, and the banquets given inhonour of the other gods, which duty had originally belonged to the_pontifices_. Julius Caesar added three more, but that alteration didnot last. They formed a _collegium_, and were one of the fourgreat religious corporations at Rome with the _pontifices_, the_augures_, and the _quindecemviri_. Smith, Diet, Ant. V. _Epulones_. ]

[Footnote 23: It had been explained before that Fulvia had been thewidow of Clodius and of Curio, before she married Antonius. ]

[Footnote 24: Riddle (Dict. Lat. In voce) says, that this wasthe regular punishment for deserters, and was inflicted by theircomrades. ]

[Footnote 25: Cnaeus Octavius, the real father of Octavius Caesar, hadbeen praetor and governor of Macedonia, and was intending to stand forthe consulship when he died. ]

[Footnote 26: Bambalio is derived from the Greek word [Greek: bambala]to lisp. ]

[Footnote 27: Julia, the mother of Antonius and sister of LuciusCaesar, was also a native of Aricia. ]

[Footnote 28: He had intended to propose to the senate to declareOctavius a public enemy. We must recollect that in these orationsCicero, even when he speaks of Caius Caesar, means Octavius. ]

[Footnote 29: It is quite impossible to give a proper idea ofCicero's meaning here. He is arguing on the word _dignus_, from which_dignitas_ is derived. But we have no means of keeping up the play onthe words in English. ]

[Footnote 30: The general proceeding on such occasions being to askeach senator's opinion separately, which gave those who chose anopportunity for pronouncing some encomium on the person honoured. ]

[Footnote 31: Spartacus was the general of the gladiators and slavesin the Servile war. ]

[Footnote 32: Lepidus had not in reality done any particular serviceto the republic (he was afterwards one of the triumviri), but he wasat the head of the best army in the empire, and so was able to be ofthe most important service to either party, and, therefore, Cicerohoped to attach him to his side by this compliment. ]

[Footnote 33: It has been already explained that this was the name ofone legion. ]

[Footnote 34: The mirmillo was the gladiator who fought with theretiarius; he wore a Gallic helmet with a fish for a crest. ]

[Footnote 35: The English reader must recollect that what is calledGaul in these orations, is Cisalpine Gaul containing what we now callthe North of Italy, coming down as far south as Modena and Ravenna. ]

[Footnote 36: After the year B. C. 403 there were two classes of Romanknights, one of which received a horse from the state, and wereincluded in the eighteen centuries of service, the other class, firstmentioned by Livy (v. 7) in the account of the siege of Veii, servedwith their own horses, and instead of having a horse found them, received a certain pay, (three times that of the infantry) and werenot included in the eighteen centuries of service. The originalknights, to distinguish them from these latter, are often called_equites equo publico_, sometimes also ficus vanes or _trossuli__Vide_ Smith, Dict. Ant. P. 394-396, v. _Equites_]

[Footnote 37: He had been one of the septemvirs appointed to presideover the distribution of the lands. ]

[Footnote 38: Janus was the name of a street near the temple of Janus, especially frequented by bankers and usurers. It was divided into_summus, nedus_ and _imus_ Horace says--

 Hase Janus summus ab imo Edocet [lacuna] Postquam omms res mea Janum Ad medium fracta cat. 

]

[Footnote 39: _I. E. Tumultus_, as if it were _tumor multus_]

[Footnote 40: These were the names of officers devoted to Antonius. ]

[Footnote 41: The province between the Alps and the Rubicon was calledGallia _Citerior_, or _Oisalpina_, from its situation, also _Togata_, from the inhabitants wearing the Roman toga. The other was called_Ulterior_, and by Cicero often _Ultima_, or _Transalpina_, and also_Comata_, from the fashion of the inhabitants wearing long hair]

[Footnote 42: Sulpicius was of about the same age as Cicero, and anearly friend of his, and he enjoyed the reputation of being the firstlawyer of his time, or of all who ever had studied law as a professionin Rome. ]

[Footnote 43: There is some corruption of the text here. ]

[Footnote 44: Brutus had been adopted by his maternal uncle QuintusServilius Caepio, so that his legal designation was what is given inthe text now, as Cicero is proposing a formal vote--though at allother times we see that he calls him Marcus Brutus]

[Footnote 45: The Latin is _Samiarius_, or as some read it _Samarius_. Orellius says, "perhaps it means some sort of trade, for I doubtits having been a Roman proper name. " Nizollius says, "Samariusexul--_proverbium_. " Facciolatti calls him a man whose business it wasto clean the arms of the guards, &c. With Samian chalk. ]

[Footnote 46: Vopiscus is another name of Bestia. ]

[Footnote 47: It is impossible to give the force of the original here, which plays on the word _tabula_. The Latin is, "vindicem enim novarumtabularum novam tabulam vidimus, " _novae tabulae_ meaning as is wellknown a law for the abolition of debts, _nova tabula_ in the singularan advertisement of (Trebellius's) property being to be sold. ]

[Footnote 48: Here too is a succession of puns. Lysidicus is derivedfrom the Greek [Greek: lyo] to loosen and [Greek: dikae], justice. _Cimber_ is a proper name, and also means one of the nation of theCimbri, _Germanus_ is a German, and _germanus_ a brother, and he meanshere to impute to Caius Cimber that he had murdered his brother. ]

[Footnote 49: Compare St Paul, --"For if the trumpet give an uncertainsound, who shall prepare himself to the battle?" 1 Cor. Xiv 8. ]

[Footnote 50: That is, without being crucified like a slave. ]

[Footnote 51: The Latin here is "Itaque Caesaris munerarosit, "--playing on the name mus, mouse; but Orellius thinks the wholepassage corrupt, and indeed there is evident corruption in the texthere in many places. ]

[Footnote 52: He means Lucius Aemilius Paullus, and Caius ClaudiusMarcellus, who were consuls the year after Servius Sulpicius andMarcus Claudius Marcellus, A. U. C. 704. ]

[Footnote 53: These two were tribunes of the people, who had beendispossessed of their offices by Julius Caesar. ]

[Footnote 54: There is some difficulty here. Many editors propose toread "offen lerint" which Orellius thinks would hardly be Latin. Hesays, "Antonius is here speaking of those veterans who had desertedhim indeed but who, at the time of his writing this letter, had notacted against him". Therefore, he says it is open to them to becomereconciled to him again (wishing to conciliate them, and to alarm hisenemies). On the other hand, Cicero replies, Nothing is so open tothem now as to do what their duty to the republic requires. That is tosay, openly to attack you, whose party they have already abandoned. ]

[Footnote 55: There were two wine feasts, Vinalia, at Rome: thevinalia urbano, celebrated on the twenty-third of April; and thevinalia rustica, on the nineteenth of October. This was the urbanavinalia; on which occasion the wine casks which had been filled in theautumn were tasted for the first time. ]

[Footnote 56: There is much dispute as to who is meant here. Some sayCicero refers to Amphion, some to Orpheus, and some to Mercury; theRomans certainly did attribute the civilization of men to Mercury, asHorace says--

 Qui feros cultus hominum recenti Voce formāsti catus I. 9, 2. ]

[Footnote 57: This is very frequently quoted by Cicero; the Latinlines being the opening of the Medea of Ennius, translated from thefirst lines of the Medea of Euripides. ]

[Footnote 58: The Talysus was a hunter at Rhodes, of whom Protogeneshad made an admirable picture, which was afterwards brought to Rome, and placed in the temple of Peace. ]

[Footnote 59: Brutus was at present propraetor in Gaul. ]

[Footnote 60: Theophrastus's real name was Tyrtamus, but Aristotle, whose pupil he was, surnamed him Theophrastus, from the Greek words[Greek: Theos], God and [Greek: phrazo], to speak. ]

[Footnote 61: He refers to the Menexenus. ]

[Footnote 62: Cape si vis. ]

[Footnote 63: "Assiduus. Prop, sitting down, seated, and so, well todo in the world, rich. The derivation _ab assis duendis_ is thereforeto be rejected. Servius Tullius divided the Roman people into twoclasses, _assidui, i. E. _ the rich, who could sit down and take theirease, and _proletarii_, or _capite censi_, the poor. "--Riddle, in voc. _Assiduus_, quoting this passage. One does not see, however, why aeliusand Cicero should not understand the meaning and derivation of aLatin word. Smith's Dict. Ant. Takes no notice of the word at all. ]

[Footnote 64: See chap. X. ]