P/V 
 173 
 
 ml 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
3 1924 027 163 728 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027163728 
 
(2 ^///.^/&^ 
 
ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 TREATISE ON RHETORIC, 
 
 LITERALLY TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK. 
 
 AU ANALYSIS BY THOMAS HOBBES, AND A SERIES OF QUESTIONS 
 NEW EDITION, TO WHICH IS ADDED, A STJPPLEMENTAllY 
 — -'•""fSLR'AIYSIS CONTAINING THE GREEK 
 DEFINITIONS. 
 
 THE POETIC OF ARISTOTLE, 
 
 LITERALLY TRANSLATED, WITH A SELECTION OP NOTES, 
 AN ANALYSIS, AND OUESTIONS. 
 
 BY 
 
 THEODORE BUCKLEY, B.A. 
 
 OP CHRIST CHURCH. 
 
 ) 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HEKRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 MDCCCLIII. 
 

 JOHN OHILDS AND SON, EUNGATI. 
 
TO THE EEADEE. 
 
 In this third edition, the Ja^anslation of Aristotle's Rhe- 
 toric has been again carefully compared with the Greek, 
 and revised and corrected throughout. Numerous ex- 
 planatory and illustrative notes have also been added ; 
 as well as a marginal analysis, which it is presumed will 
 be found of much service to the reader. 
 
 The famous Thomas Hobbes' Brief of the Art of 
 Rhetorick, " containing in substance all that Aristotle 
 hath written in his three books on that subject," and 
 forming the best summary of this noble science, has 
 been again reprinted from the scarce edition published 
 at London in 1681. A body of Analytical Questions, 
 for self-examination, has also been appended. 
 
 With these improvements, the Editor confidently 
 hopes that the present volume wiU. be found to contain, 
 not only the most faithful version of the Ehetoric of 
 Aristotle, but the best helps for the due understanding 
 and retaining the sense thereof. 
 
 Oxford, November, 1846. 
 
 In the present iiew edition of the Oxford version of the 
 Ilhetoric, it has been thought advisable not to interfere 
 either with the text, notes, or Questions, all being of 
 acknowledged excellence. But, as Hobbes, by the 
 
IV TO THE KEADER. 
 
 quaintness of his Analysis, at times lost sight of the 
 precise character of the original definitions, an Appen- 
 dix has been added, containing the very words of 
 Aristotle, connected by such remarks as were necessary 
 to preserve clearness, and furnishing such passages as 
 should be almost learnt by heart. 
 
 The new translation of the Poetic is an attempt to 
 unite the closeness of Taylor with the perspicuity of 
 Twining, upon whose versions it has principally been 
 based. A copious selection from the notes of the last 
 named scholar has been added, together with a few ne- 
 cessary ones from recent sources by the present Editor, 
 
 Theodore Alois Bucklet, 
 
 Christ Chukch. 
 
ARISTOTLE'S 
 TREATISE ON RHETORIC. 
 
 BOOK I.-CHAP. I. 
 
 That Rhetoric, like Logic, is conversant with no definite 
 class of subjects ; that it is useful ; and that its bitsiness 
 is not absolutely to persuade, but to recognise topics fitted 
 to persuade. 
 
 Rhetoric' is the counterpart of logic '^; since both 1. Eheto- 
 are conversant with subjects of such a nature as it is "^^ '^T'^f' 
 the business of all to have a certain knowledge of, and Logic, 
 which belong to no distinct science. Wherefore all 2. 
 men in some way participate of both'; since all, to a 
 
 ^ Aristotle appears to have contemplated a mucli greater va- 
 riety of occasious for tke exercise of his 'PjiTOjoiKj;, than we 
 consider proper to that ill-defined art, or habit, or faculty, 
 vaguely called rhetoric. In fact, according to him, any man 
 Tfho attempts to persuade another, under whatever circum- 
 stances, and with whatever object, may be said to exercise 
 
 prjTOpiKr}. .' ^ 
 
 ' Muretus explains the passage as conveying a censure ou 
 Plato, who extolled logic, but compared rhetoric to cookery — 
 i\(roTroitrriic7J. He therefore would have it convey this mean- 
 ing, " Rhetoric is the counterpart, not of cookery, as Plato 
 asserts, but of his own favourite science, dialectics." See also 
 note", p. 23. 
 
 ' Sir P. Sidney, arguing that all arts are but attempts to 
 methodise natural subjects, says, that " the rhetorician and lo- 
 gician, considering what in nature will soonest prove and per- 
 suade, thereon give artificial rules, which are still compressed 
 within the ch-cle of a question, according to the proposed mat- 
 ter." Defense of Poetry. 
 
 B 
 
2 ARISTOTLE'S I book i 
 
 certain extent, attempt, as well to sift, as to maintain 
 
 an argument ; as well to defend themselves, as to im- 
 
 Thatwe peach*- Now, of the multitude^, some do this at ran- 
 
 du" ft ^°'^ ' 0*^6'"^' ^J reason of practice, from habit ; but as 
 
 to a sys- it is possible either way, it is plain that the case will 
 
 tem. admit of our reducing these things to a system. For we 
 
 are at liberty to speculate on the causes of the success, 
 
 as well of those who from practice, as of those who on 
 
 the spur of the moment, [attempt either to convince 
 
 or to persuade]. And every one will be antecedently 
 
 prepared to acknowledge that an undertaking of this 
 
 description is the business of art^. 
 
 3. Stric- Hitherto, however, such as have compiled systems 
 
 previous "f oratory have executed a very trifling part of it ; 
 
 systems, for the means of making credible' alone come pro- 
 
 ** 'E^ET-a^Eiy Kal vTrix^tv, qua Logicians ; ^TroXoyslirOat Kal 
 jca-rriyopiiv, qu& Rhetoricians : so that the faculties which form 
 the basis of each of these arts appear to be natural to every 
 man. Zeno elegantly illustrated the distinction between the 
 two by a simile taken from the hand. The close power of 
 Logic he compared to ihejisf, or hand compressed s the disuse 
 power of Rhetoric to the palm^ or hand open. Cicero, Orator. 
 
 * The vulgar can give reasons to a certain degree, and can 
 esamine, after a manner, the reasons given them by others. 
 And what is this but Natural Logic ? If therefore these 
 fefforts of theirs have an effect, and nothing happen without a 
 cause,' this eifect must of necessity be derived from certain 
 principles. The question then is, What these principles are ; 
 for if these can once be investigated, and then knowingly ap- 
 plied, we shall be enabled to do by rule what others do by 
 hazard; and in what we do, as much to excel tlie uninstructed 
 reasoner, as a disciplined boxer surpasses an untaught rustic. 
 Harris's Philosophical Arrang. ch. 1. 
 
 ' An effect is produced ; sometimes indeed accidentally, and 
 sometimes from the person's having been habituated to that 
 which he attempts. Now if we can ascertain and methodise 
 the causes of this his success, so as to insure the success of 
 subsequent attempts, we shall have constructed something 
 similar to an art : for, in some points, chance and art ai'e not 
 nulike ; whence tlie verse of Agatho ; — 
 
 Tix^^ TVX^^ £crT£p^e, Kal Tuyvv T£)(yt]i/. 
 
 See Eth. Nich. vi. 4. 
 
 ' Hio-Tis. — If the translation of this word shall appear fre- 
 quently to be vague and indeterminate, the reader is requested 
 to observe that we have no equivalent expression in English ■ 
 for it is conceived that "proof" (the usual translation) always 
 implies something qualified to convince the understanding ■ 
 
; TILCX- 
 
 CHAP. 1.] RHETOllIC. a 
 
 perly within tlie sphere of the art, but other points are 
 merely adscititious. On the subject- of ,enthj«aeinSr Neglect of 
 however, which in point of fact is the very body of *^^ ' 
 proof, these men say not a word ; while on points 
 foreign to the subject they busy themselves most 
 mightily. Now the feeling of ill-will *, pity, and anger, 4. Hence 
 and the like emotions of the mind, appertain not to the ™^s'^to^' 
 case, but refer to the judge ; so that if, in regard to all the pas- 
 judicial processes, matters were regulated as they now s>°°s, 
 are in some states, (and more particularly in such as 
 are well constituted,) these spokesmen would not have 
 a word to say. And every one [approves the regula- 5. 
 tion], whether they think that the law should hold this 
 language, or whether they avail themselves of the rule, 
 and positively forbid to speak irrelevantly to the 
 case ; just as they do in the Areopagus, observing 
 this usage properly enough. For it is not right that.\ 
 an orator should bias the judge by winning him on to 1 
 anger, or pity, or jealousy ; since it is equally absurd 
 as though one were to make a ruler crooked which 
 ^he is about to use*. It is further evident that the* 6. 
 pleader's business is nothing more than to prove the 
 matter of fact, either that it is, or is not the case ; 
 that it has, or has not happened. But as to the- 
 question whether it be important or trifling, just or 
 
 whereas Aristotle designates by the word iritrTis, every thing 
 which has a tendency to persjtade the will. It is not, however, 
 meant to be denied that proof {properly such) frequently has, 
 and always ought to have, a tendency to persuade ; bat, at the 
 same time, it would be too much to say that it is the only thing 
 which is qualified to do so. Vide Mitchell's Aristoph. vol. i. ; 
 Pal. Diss. p. 72 ; ibid. p. 75. 
 
 * For a similar use of the word Sia^oXii, of. Thucyd. lib. i. 
 c, 127. — oil fiivTot TotrovToi/ v^iri'^ov iradiXi/ dv aitTov tovto, 
 Strov 5taj3oX?;y oitrstv avTtS Trpos t}]v ttoX-LV. 
 
 ^ KpLTTjs Tov voiiov KCLvmv. Aiistotle employs the same me- 
 taphor in his Ethics ; — tov yrip aopioTOyj, aopt(TT0s Kal o kolkoiv 
 itTTLv, ibffirep Kal t^s Aso-jStas oJ/coSo/xt/s, 6 ft-oXOfSSLvo^ navoiv 
 irpo's yap rd ffXVfjLa TOV Xidov fiBTaKLVELTULy Kal ou p.ivu 6 Ka- 
 vuu. Lib. V. c. 10. See Lucretius, iv. 516. — 
 
 Denique ut in fabrica, si prava est regula prima, 
 Normaque si fallax rectis regionibus exit, 
 
 Omnia mendose fieri atque obstipa necesse est, etc. 
 B 2 
 
4 ARISTOTLE'S [bock i. 
 
 unjust, whatever questions of this nature the legis- 
 lator has not determined ; on these the judge must 
 somehow or other make up his mind of himself, and 
 not take instructions on them from the parties at is- 
 7. Kea- sue. It would then be most admirably adapted to 
 *™?J[liy the purposes of justice, if laws properly enacted 
 ^ssiblt^ were, as far as circumstances admitted, of themselves 
 should be to mark out all cases, and to abandon as few as pos- 
 l^^f ^J' *K sible to the discretion of the judge. And this be- 
 ■'"' ^'^ 1st. cause, in the first place, it is easier to get one or a 
 , few of good sense, and of ability to legislate and ad- 
 2ncl. judge, than to get many'" : and next to this, legisla- 
 'tive enactments proceed from men carrying their 
 views a long time back ; [or, from men who have 
 reflected on the subject for a long time ;] while judi- 
 cial decisions are made off hand ; so that it is diffi- 
 cult for persons deciding under these circumstances 
 3rd. to assign what is just and expedient : and, what is 
 most of all to the point, is this, that the award of the 
 legislator is not particular nor about present cir- 
 cumstances, but about what is future and general ; 
 whereas the member of a popular assembly and the 
 • j udge decide on points actually present and definite j 
 and under their circumstances, feelings of partiality, 
 and dislike, and personal expediency, wiU, in many 
 instances, antecedently have been interwoven with 
 the case ; and to such a degree, that one is no longer 
 able, adequately, to contemplate the truth, and that 
 personal pleasure or pain throws a shade over the 
 
 '" As the young man can learn consequences {on.) ere he 
 discovers principles, (SioVj, Eth. Ub.i.,) so can most men bet- 
 ter judge of individual cases by SiKaa-TLKri (f>p6vrj(7is, than frame 
 laws by vofioSiriKf] c/)poj/riTts. (Eth. lib. Vi.) And this is proved 
 by the universal bias of orators to individual cases founded on 
 law. To borrow an illustration from the arts, we may say, 
 that as a person placed in the centre of a landscape has a fuller' 
 view of any individual object in it than the painter himself, 
 but loses proportionately the general effect ; so the judge can 
 discern all the particulars of a given ease, but cannot, as the 
 legislator who contemplates at a distance, view so well the 
 general bearings and effects of any law when united or con- 
 trasted with others. Cf. also the Ethics, lib. v. c. 1 6p6uit 
 
CHAP. I.] > RHETORIC. 5 
 
 judgment. In regard, then, to other particulars, as I 8>>B\it 
 observed, it is right to leave the judge a discretion in ^J'f^pJ"'^* 
 as few as possible": but questions of fact, whether etc. must 
 it has or has not taken place, will or wiU not happen, ^'^^' '" 
 does or does not exist ; all such it i.s necessary '^ to 
 abandon to the discretion of the judges ; since it is not 
 possible that the legislator ever should foresee them. 
 
 If these things be so, it is plain that they embrace* 9. 
 in their systems matters foreign to the subject, who 
 give us explanations of the other points, as for in- 
 stance — what the proem, and the narration, and the 
 other divisions, ought severally to embrace- for in ' 
 these treatises they busy themselves about nothing 
 else, except how to render the judge of a certain dis- 
 position ; while on the subject of those means of 
 persuasion, recognised by art, they discover nothing ; 
 and yet this is the source whence an orator may be- 
 come a good reasoner. And it is for this reason lo. Reji- 
 that, notwithstanding the same system is conversant sons why 
 about deliberative and judicial cases, and although ^^1^°' 
 the business of the senate is more honourable, and cial to de- 
 embraces higher social interests, than that whose liberative 
 subject is merely the transactions of individuals ; yet 
 about the former they say not one word, while all 
 undertake to frame systems of judicial pleading. 
 And'^ they are not without a reason for this, since 
 
 " Cf. Hooker, v. § 9, p. 36. 
 
 ^^ It is not in tlie nature of things that any human legislator 
 should determine on the infinite number of possible cases ; or 
 that he should not, with regard to some, be an unsafe guide to 
 our decisions : for the last of these inconveniences we have a 
 remedy in kTrizlKzia ; since equity is, as he subsequently de- 
 scribes it, TO TOv iSiov vofjLOv KUL yiypu^^ivou kXXsLiifia, and 
 TO "irapa tov yEypafifiEVOv vofj-ov 6'iicaiou. — lib. i. c. xiii. § 13. 
 And again in the JEthics, e-n-avopQajfia voixov, jj eWeittei dia. t-6 
 KaQoKov^ V. 10. 
 
 ^■* This error is a consequence on the one mentioned before, 
 § 3 : from the disregard there noticed of the enthymem and 
 irio-Tis, orators are naturally led to attach themselves to' that 
 branch of public speaking which requires enthymem least; and 
 such is judicial pleading, inasmuch as the cause there rests 
 mainly on evidence^ properly so called, on the aTLyyai ttIo-tsi^. 
 Aristotle himself gives as another reason for this preference, 
 the greater ease of judicial oratory. (Vide lib. iii. c. xvii. § 10.) 
 
6 ARISTOTLE'S Leook i. 
 
 ■ in deliberative speeches it is less worth while to state 
 matters foreign to the subject, and a deliberative 
 speech admits less of malicious sophistry than judi- 
 cial pleading, but is more widely interesting ; for 
 here the judge [i. e. the senator] decides on questions 
 which nearly interest himself, so that no more is ne- 
 cessary than to prove that the question stands just as 
 he, the adviser, asserts. In judicial questions, how- 
 ever, this is not sufficient, but it is worth while to 
 engage the hearer ; for the decision is about a case 
 which does not affect himself: so that the judges, 
 looking to their own gratification, and listening with 
 a view to amusement, surrender themselves up to 
 the pleaders ; and, strictly speaking, do not, fulfil the 
 character of judges'*. On which very account the 
 law, in many places, as I before remarked, forbids 
 
 And this he proves, first, because that which has teen is plain 
 to afl, even to diviners ; secondly, the orator having law for a 
 premiss, the demonstration is easier. To these reasons may be 
 added one which the master of Alexander would not willingly 
 have allowed, namely, the loss of liberty to Greece, and file 
 consequent loss of all interest in deliberative questions, to men 
 whose future fates were totally out of their own power. 
 
 '* A writer in the Quarterly Review, No. 26, after contrasting 
 . the perplexity of English law with the simplicity of Athenian 
 jurisprudence, says, " This simplicity in the law made it the 
 orator's business less to hunt for cases and precedents than to 
 discriminate character ; less to search for eiTors in a bill than 
 for flaws or errors in a witness's life or testimony. And the 
 prevalence of this practice may be inferred from a subsequent 
 passage in this book, (c. ix. ^ 38,) where Isocrates is mentioned 
 as an adept in the comparison of c/iaracters, " which," says 
 Aristotle, " he used to do to further his familiarity with Judicial 
 pleading." To this we may subjoin the following remarks of 
 Mitford on a speech by Alcibiades : " The multitude ordinarily 
 composing an Athenian court of justice was so great, that the 
 pleaders always addressed it as under the impulse of the same 
 interests, and subject to the same feelings as the general as- 
 sembly, and equally without responsibility. Impartiality was 
 never supposed ; the passions were always applied to ; and it 
 never failed to be contended between the parties, which could 
 most persuade the jurors that their interest was implicated with 
 his, and that by deciding in his favour they would be gainers." 
 Hist, of Greece, vol. v. p. 94. So also Xenophon, in his Athe- 
 nian Republic, c. i. § 1 3. — iv te toIs iiKonr-nj^iois oO tou diKalov 
 aii'To7? /it'\Ei fiaWov ri TOU aiiTol^ ^vjupipovTO^. 
 
CHAP. 1.] RHETORIC. 7 
 
 the saying any thing irrelevant ; but there [in deli- 
 berative assemblies] the judges are, of themselves, 
 careful enough of this. 
 
 But as it is plain that an artificial system is con- 11. Rea- \ 
 versant about the means of making credible, and as l^iJ^J 
 this is a sort of proof , (because we are then most per- cian wiU 
 suaded when we conceive that the point has been probably 
 proved,) but the proof of rhetoric is enthymem, (and j,^j^ ^^ie- 
 this, to speak generally, has the most sovereign eflfect torician. 
 of all the means of persuasion ;) and the enthymem 
 is a sort of syllogism ; since too it is the province of 
 logic to consider equally every sort of syllogism, . 
 whether of that art as a whole, or of some particular 
 branch of it ; then, these points being admitted, it is* 
 evident that the man best able to consider the ques- 
 tion, out of what sources and how the syllogism arises, 
 will moreover be in the highest degree capable of 
 employing enthymems ; provided he make himself 
 acquainted, besides his logic, with the kind of sub- 
 jects about which enthymems are conversant, and 
 what differences they exhibit as compared with the 
 syllogism of logic. Because it belongs to the same, 
 faculty of the mind to recognise both truth and the 
 semblance of truth ; and more than this, mankind 
 have a'° tolerable natural tendency toward that which! 
 is true ; and, in general, hit the truth ; wherefore an 
 aptness in conjecturing probabilities belongs to him 
 who has a similar aptness in regard to truth. It is 
 plain, then, that other rhetoricians embrace in their 
 systems, points foreign to the subject, and what rea- 
 sons they have for inclining to the subject of judi- 
 cial pleading in preference to the other branches of 
 rhetoric. 1 
 
 But rhetoric is useful, because truth and justice» i2. Uffli- 
 are in the ir_nature_sta-onger than their opposites ; so W^i . 
 that if decisions be made, not in conformity to the tnrove"™ 
 rule of propriety, it must have been that they have Ist. 
 been got the better of, through fault of the advocates ' 
 themselves : and this is deserving reprehension. Fur- 2nd. 
 
 15 Ti£(j,vKa(riii iKavais, have naturally a considerable aptitude 
 toward what is true. 
 
8 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 thermore, in the case of some people, not even if we 
 had the most accurate scientific knowledge, would it 
 
 . be easy to persuade them were we to address them 
 through the medium of that knowledge ; for a scien- 
 tific discourse, it is the privilege of education [to ap- 
 preciate], and it is impossible that this [should es- 
 tend to the multitude""] ; but we must construct.our 
 means of persuasion, and our addresses, through th£_ 
 
 'medium otordinary language ; as in fact I stated in 
 
 myTopTcs, ''on~the~mamier of communicating with 
 
 Srd. the multitude." Again, too, we ought to be able to 
 
 ♦ persuad e on opposite sides^of a question ; as also we 
 ought inTEe case of arguing by syllogism: not that 
 ■we should practise both, for it is not right to persuade 
 to what is bad ; but in order that the bearing of the 
 case may not escape us, and that when another 
 makes an unfair use of these reasonings, we may be 
 able to solve them.'^ Now, of all the other arts, there 
 is not one which embraces contraries in its conclu- 
 sions ; but logic and rhetoric alone do this ; for they 
 are both in an equal degree ^^ conversant about con- 
 
 .traries ; not, however, that these contrary subjects 
 present equal facilities : but the true and better side 
 of the question is always naturally of a more easy 
 
 . inference, and has, generally speaking, a greater tend- 
 
 4th. ency to persuade. To illustrate further the utility 
 
 of rhetoric, it were absurd, if, while it is disgraceful 
 
 '^ The communication of ideas requires a similitude of 
 thought and language : the discourse of a philosopher would 
 vibrate without effect on the ear of a peasant. Gibbon's De- 
 cline and Fall, c. 1. note 90. 
 
 " In the words of Falconbridge, let the orator resolve to 
 
 *' smack of observation; 
 
 Which, though I will not practise to deceive, 
 
 Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to leara." > 
 
 " Riccobon remarks, that a person may at first be inclined 
 to doubt the truth of the assertion that Rhetoric and Logic 
 alcne recognise contraries ; seeing tliat music, for instance, re- 
 cognises harmony and discord ; grammar, the improprieties 
 and the proprieties of language, etc. This doubt is however 
 removed, he says, by the word onotms, for these alone recog- 
 nise with egiml propHety each of the two contraries ; whereas 
 other arts apply more strictly to one than to another. 
 
CHAP. I.] RHETORIC. 9 
 
 for a man not to be able to assist himself by liis per- 
 son, it_werenot disgraceful to be unable to do this, by 
 his sggefih^wEich'TsTHftre "a peculiarity of man than 
 Jke^jeserciso of the .body '^- If, however, [any one 13. Ob- 
 should object^"] that a person, unfairly availing him- ^"^"^j 
 self of such powers of speaking, may be, in a very the abuse 
 high degree, injurious ; this is an objection which of itan- 
 will lie in some degree against every good indis- 
 criminately, except virtue ; and with especial force 
 against those which are most advantageous, as 
 strength, health, wealth, and generalship. Because, 
 •.employing these fairly, a person may be beneficial in ■ 
 points of the highest importance ; and, by employing 
 them unfairly, may be equally injurious. 
 
 That rhetoric, then, is conversant not with any one 14. End 
 distinct class of subjects, but like logic [is of universal "f'^'^"*^. 
 applicability], and that it is useful, is evident ; as also ric. 
 that its business is not absolute persuasion ^', but to 
 ^consMer on every subj^ect what means oLpeiisijasiQIl 
 are inherenFlh it; just as is also'the case in every 
 
 ^ Tbis is an ^ minori argument, to understand tbe full force 
 of "wbicb we ought to bear in mind the great iipportauce at- 
 tached to the Suva^L9 dytovLGTLK^) by the Greeks. 
 
 ^ Non tamen idcirco crimen liber omnis habehit : 
 
 Nil protest quod non laedere possit idem. 
 Igne quid utilius ? Si quis tamen urere tecta 
 
 Comparat, audaces instruit igne manus. 
 Eripit interdum, modo dat medicina salutem, 
 
 Quseque juvans monstrat, quseque sit herba nocens, 
 Et latro, et cautus prascingitur ense viator ; 
 
 lUe sed insidias, hie sibi portat opem. 
 Discitur innocuas ut agat faeundia causas : 
 
 Protegit haec sontes, immeritosque premit. 
 
 Ovid. Trist. lib. ii. 1. 265. 
 
 " Having told us what we may expect from Rhetoric; he 
 now tells us what we are not to expect from it. Persuasion, 
 though the end, is not the duty of .rhetoric : " Offlcium ejus 
 facultatts videtiir esse, dicer e apposite ad persuadendum : Finis, 
 persuadere dictione." (Cicero de Inv.) _ In the arts whose 
 foundation is conjectural [in-oxairTi/cai tsx'"'']' among which 
 we must class rhetoric, if the artist had done all that the case 
 admitted his duty was conceived to have been fulfilled, and 
 he was entitled to commendation though he had entirely failed 
 of success. 
 
10 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 Other art : for neither is it the duty of medicine to 
 render its patient healthy, but to bring him on as far 
 as the case admits ; for it is nevertheless very possi- 
 ble to treat properly even such as may be incapable 
 of again partaking of health : and besides this [it is 
 evident] that it belongs to the self-same art to ob- 
 serve both the real and seeming means of persuasion; 
 just as it is incumbent on logic to consider syllogisms 
 Differ- and apparent syllogisms. And this is the case, be- 
 ence in cause the character of sophist does not consist in the 
 Rhetoric faculty ^^ [for the logician possesses this as well as he], 
 as regards but in his fixed design [of abusing it^^]. Here [in 
 
 °^ That he is consistent in thus classifying characters accord- 
 ing to their moral principles, -will appear from his application 
 of the appellation 'AXaJciii/ by the same rule in the Ethics : 
 OuK kv Ty Suirdfjif.t E(7Tiy o dXa^iiiv, dW.' ev tij TrpoaLpiait. 
 Ethics, iv.' c. 7. 
 
 ^ In order more fully to illustrate the nature of rhetoric, 
 Aristotle has considered it throughout this chapter as analogous 
 to logic. Each, he 9ays, is founded on a faculty naturally pos- 
 sessed by all men ; each is useful, and applicable -with equal 
 propriety to any class of subjects "whatever. Besides this, lo- 
 gic and rhetoric alone, of all arts, are equally conversant with 
 opposite inferences ; and of course witli sound and specious 
 arguments (whether in the form of syllogism or enthymem). 
 Now as Iqgip and rhetoric are in their own nature indifferent 
 J to truth or falsehood, it must require an act of choice in either 
 case to select the former or the latter, and the constant repeti- 
 tion of that choice will ultimately form a corresponding habit. 
 Hence the 5taA.£/cTiKoff may be considered as SvudfiEi trocpiaTii^, 
 and the o-oj^io-tt/b as dvvdfj.Ei fitaXe/cTifcds. But when logic is 
 prostituted to the support of false propositions, by the bad 
 principles (the irpoaipEcris) of its professors, it is branded witli 
 the name of sophistry, and the persons who so misapply it are 
 called sophists : whereas, in the case of rhetoric, no such dis- 
 tinction in reference to the principles of its professors ever ob- 
 tained ; but the name of orator is enjoyed equally by all who 
 are masters of the art, whether they exercise it fairly or not, 
 IvTavOa jittv, EtTTaL 6 /liv KUTa Triv EirLaTii^iiv, 6 Sk KaTO, n-iju 
 ■jrpoalpEniv, 'PiJTiup. A reason for this distinction may per<. 
 haps be furnished from the nature of the subject-matter re- 
 spectively. The subject-matter of logic is a\»i0^s, which is 
 uniform, absolute, and admits not of degrees. Hence the so- 
 phistical logician may faii-ly be supposed aware of the fallacy 
 he uses, and is stigmatized accordingly. But the subject-mat- 
 ter of rhetoric being n-d ofiowv tw a\i]0£t, (v. § 11,) or irtdavov, 
 has many and various degrees, from the lowest presumption 
 
ciUP. n.] RHETORIC. 11 
 
 rhetoric], however, the one who is considered in re- the name 
 ference simply to his knowledge of the.ai-t,.as well as "f *" 
 he who is considered in reference to his moral prin- ojg_ 
 ciples, is indiscriminately designated aa orator . But in 
 logic, a_so£hist is callfid so in reference to his moral 
 princigles ; a logician, however, without reference to 
 nispnnbiples, simply as regards the faculty he is 
 master of. 
 
 However, commencing from this point, let us at- 15. 
 tempt to treat of the system both from what sources 
 and in what manner we shall be able to attain the 
 proposed objects ; having then once more, as at the 
 outset, defined what this art is, let us treat of what 
 remains. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Definition of jRJietoric. — EiVoe : — SriiiEiov : — Ttic/jj/piov : — 
 their differences. — Example. 
 
 Lex us define rhetoric to be, " A faculty of consider- 1. Defini- 
 ing all the possible means of persuasion on every sub- ^'JJ^^^c. 
 ject ;" for this is the business of no one of the other 
 arts, each of which is fit enough to inform or persuade 
 respecting its own subject ; medicine, for instance, 
 on what conduces to health or sickness ; and geome- 
 try, on the subject of relations incidental to magni- 
 tudes ; and arithmetic, on the subject of numbers ; 
 and in the same way the remaining arts and sciences. 
 But rhetoric, as I may say, seems able to consider the 
 means of persuasion on any given subject whatso- 
 ever. And hence I declare it to have for its province, 
 as an art, no particular limited class of subjects. Now 2. Two 
 of the means of effecting persuasion, some originate "^^^^if 
 in the art, others independently of it. By inartificial —ivrix- 
 
 VOl, OtT£X" 
 
 up to moral certainty. Here then a fallacy is not so easily """• 
 discoverable, even by the orator himself; and candour re- 
 quires us not to brand as moral what after all may be merely 
 mental imperfection in the speaker. 
 
12 ARISTOTLE'S [boos i. 
 
 ^^■^ I mean whatever are not furnished forth by our own 
 X means, but which are in existence already, as wit- 
 
 nesses, torture, deeds, and all of this kind ; by artifi- 
 cial, such as may be got up by means of the system, 
 and by ourown talents. So that as regards these, 
 we have to employ the one class, to discover the 
 other. 
 3. Of means of persuading by speaking there are 
 three^pecies^ : some consist in the character of_tli.e 
 speaker ; others in the disposing the hearer a certain 
 way ; others in the thing itself which is' said, by rea- 
 son of its proving, or appearing to prove the point. 
 4. i. Cha- [Persuasion is effected] by means of the moraZcAarac- 
 th°'^'^ "k '*'"' '^^^^ ^^ speech shall have been spoken in sucE~ 
 er. a way as to render the speaker worthy confidence : 
 
 for we place confidence in the good to a wider extent, 
 and with less hesitation, on all subjects generally ; 
 but on points where no real accuracy exists, but there 
 is room for doubt, we even entirely confide in them. 
 This feeling, however, should arise by means of the 
 speech, and not by reason of its having been precon- 
 ceived that the speaker is a certain kind of man. For 
 it is not true, as some treatise -mongers lay down in 
 their systems, of the probity of the speaker, that it 
 contributes nothing to persuasion ; but moral charac- 
 ter nearly, I may say, carries with it the most sove- 
 6. ii. Feel- reign efficacy in making credible^. [Persuasion is 
 '"St^ effected] through the medium of the hearers, when 
 they shall have been brought to a state of excitement 
 under the influence of the speech ; for we do not, 
 when influenced by pain or joy, or partiality or dis- 
 like, award our decisions in the same way ; about 
 which means of persuasion alone, I declare that the 
 
 ' UicrxEis Sia Toil Xoyov, or artificial, of three kinds, h tiS 
 ^6t.1 Tou Xtyoi/Tos — iv Tw Toy (LKpoaTri^ Stadsluai TTiOs — ev avTia 
 T(2 \oycu. 
 
 ' In SO high estimation did Menander hold the manner of 
 an address, that he attributed the -whole effect to it ; — T-poVos 
 t<yQ^ 6 irtidtov Tov XtyovTo^, oi/ Xoyoi. And as Plutarch ob- 
 seiTes upon this line, Kal Tpoiros fikvovtf Kal \6yos- fl TPO'noS 
 AIA~ AOTOT. De Audiend. Poet. t. i. Op. Mor. p. 125. 
 edit. Wyttenb. 
 
CHAP. II.] RHETORIC. 13 
 
 system-mongers of the present day busy themselves. 
 On the subject of these, however, some light will be 
 afforded, when I speak on the subject of the passions. 
 
 Men give credit from the force of what is said, 6. iii. The 
 ■when out of the means of persuasion which attach to ^V^'^'^i^ it- 
 each subject, we evince the truth, or that which ap- ^^ ' 
 pears so. Now as persuasion is effected by these 7. Rheto- 
 means, it is plain that it wiU be the privilege of him "<= ^ "ff- 
 who is able to draw inferences syllogistically, and to Dialectics 
 take a full view of the subject of morals, and of the and Poli- 
 virtues, and thirdly of the passions, both what each *''^*- 
 of the passions is, oi-what nature it is, a,ndi from what 
 causes it is engendered, and how : so that the fact is, 
 that rhetoric is, as it were, a kind of off-shoot of logic, 
 and of that department of moral philosophy which it 
 is fair to caU the science of social life'. Whence rhe- 
 toric is invested with the costume'* of that science, 
 as well as its professors, partly from inexperience, 
 partly arrogance, and in part from other human 
 causes ; because, as I stated at the outset, it is a sort 
 of subordinate division of logic, and portraiture of it ; 
 neither of them being a science of any one definite 
 
 ' IIoXn-iKt). For an explanation of this term — an enumer- 
 ation of the various arts which he comprehends imder it — and 
 for an account of the estimation in -which he holds it, see 
 ■Ethics, lib. i. e. 2. 
 
 ^ 'T-TTooutT-at. So blind are men to this affectation of rheto- 
 ric and its professors, that he who, haTing had no occasion for 
 the display of his persuasive powers, other than the ordinary 
 course of affairs presents, would be accused of great arrogance 
 were he to taUc of having exercised rhetoric. Now Aristotle, 
 so far from holding a person guilty of presumption for such au 
 use of the term, would rather retort on the accuser the charge 
 of ignorance of its true import. For witi a view to invest their 
 art, and of consequence themselves, with an air of dignity, the 
 professors of rhetoric, said he, would have the world think 
 .(some of them, poor creatures, 5t' airaL&Evcriav') that it was ap- 
 plicable exclusively to such cases as are of high concernment 
 to society. This in part is true ; rhetoric is nrapatpvh ttjs 
 IIoXixeIcis : but, as Majoragius observes, " Virgulta magnam 
 quidem cum arboribus quibus adnascuntur habent similitudi- 
 nem, et rerum naturam redolent. Sed tamen mulfo sunt infe- 
 riwa, neque tarn aberes fructus ferunt." So far prevalent is this 
 notion to this very day, that we only apply this word by way 
 of ridicule to persuasion on ordinary topics. 
 
14 
 
 AEISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book I. 
 
 8. Subdi- 
 vision of 
 
 •TTtC-TElS, 
 
 TtZ \6ytS : 
 i. 'Enthy- 
 mem, ii. 
 Example. 
 
 9. Ex- 
 ample. 
 
 Defini- 
 tion of 
 SyUo- 
 gism. 
 
 10. Vari- 
 ous styles 
 of speak- 
 ing. 
 
 subject, as to what may be its nature ; but both being 
 certain faculties for furnishing ourselves with argu- 
 ments. Now on the subject of the powers of the 
 two, and their mutual relation, nearly enough has 
 been said. 
 
 With regard to means of persuading by proving, 
 or appearing to prove your point, just as in logic one 
 is induction, another syllogism, another apparent syl- 
 logism, so also is the case here in rhetoric ; for its 
 example is an induction, its enthymem a syllogism ; 
 and enthymem I call rhetorical syllogism ; example, 
 rhetorical induction. Now all orators effect their de- 
 monstrative proofs by allegation either of enthymems 
 or examples, and, besides these, in no other way 
 whatever. So that if it be incumbent on you to prove 
 with regard to any thing or person mform of syllo- 
 gism or induction, it cannot bat be (as is evident from 
 Analytics) that each of these will be essentially the 
 same as each of the former (enthymem and induction). 
 And what the difference is between example and en- 
 thymem is plain from the Topics, where, on the sub- 
 ject of syllogism and induction, it has been stated 
 before, that the proving that such or such is the fact 
 in many and similar cases, is called in the other art, 
 induction ; in this, exaniple. But when, certain 
 points having been granted, there results, by virtue 
 of these, something else over and above these, by 
 virtue of their existence, either as generals or parti- 
 culars ; this process is, in that art, called syllogism ; 
 in this, enthymem^. Rhetoric, it is plain, enjoys each 
 advantage ; for [with respect to it] the case, in this 
 treatise, is the same as in the Methodica has been 
 stated of logic ; the speeches of orators ^ abounding, 
 some in examples, others in enthymems ; and orators 
 themselves being in the same way, some fond of ex- 
 ample, others of enthymem. Eeasonings, however, 
 
 ' Or, each style of rhetoric has its peculiar advantage. 
 
 ' 'Pr/Topsta, the words of an orator, modelled according to 
 rhetoric, whose object it is to persuade ; versus, Xoyos the 
 words of a logician, modelled according to logic, whose object 
 It is to convince. 
 
CHAP. ii.J RHETORIC. 15 
 
 conducted througli the medium of example, are not 
 less calculated to persuade ; but those of which en- 
 thymem is the chai-acferistic are rather applauded^. 
 But I will hereafter explain what is the cause of this, 
 and how we are to use each species of proof: let us, 
 at ■present, distinguish more clearly respecting these 
 proofs themselves. Now forasmuch as that which* 11. Rhe- 
 carries persuasion with it, does so in reference to ^V-" '^°?' 
 some one ; and either is, immediately on being enun- ttSuvov 
 dated, actually of a nature to persuade, and enforce for a class, 
 belief ; or [has its effect] from its appearing to prove ^,^|J^''" 
 through the medium of such [as compose the former 
 class] ; and as no art considers particular cases ; me- 
 dicine for example, what is wholesome for the indi- 
 viduals, Socrates or CaUias, but what is so for any 
 person of such a constitution ; for this question comes 
 within the province of art, hvA particulars are infinite,, 
 and cannot be known : so neither will rhetoric con- 
 sider probability in reference to particular individuals ?• 
 what, for instance, is probable to Socrates or Callias, 
 but that which is so to persons such as they are ; just 
 in the same way as logic, for that art does not draw 
 conclusions indiscriminately from any subjects ; for. 
 some things there are which appear probable even to 
 a madman ; [yet you never would dream of arguing 
 about them;] but it supplies itself from subjects'P'1'ifaws 
 which require reasoning, as does rhetoric from sub- pu ™from 
 jects which are usual matters of deliberation. Its subjects of 
 business then is respecting points about which we de- delibera- 
 liberate, and have no art specially conversant, and 12. Audi- 
 before auditors of such abilities as are not able to take ence held 
 a connected view of reasonings, conducted through ^°^^^^. 
 
 ' QopvfiouiiTai. Twining, in his notes on the Poetic, quot- 
 ing a subsequent passage of this Treatise, in -which this word 
 again occurs, (ii. 23,) translates it, " are applauded," and ob- 
 serves, that " the commentators strangely mistake the sense of 
 this word here, and in lib. i. c. 2. They render it absurdly, — 
 ve/wmentms percellunt—perturbant maxime. Whether an au- 
 dience be pleased or displeased, to any great degree, noise is 
 equally the consequence; and the word Sfofxu^Cw is used, 
 sometimes for the uproar of approbation, and sometimes for 
 that of dislike." 
 
16 ARISTOTLE'S [book I. 
 
 many stages, nor to deduce an argument from remote 
 principles. Now we deliberate on subjects which 
 appear to admit of having themselves in either of two 
 ways : for on questions which cannot, under any cir- 
 cumstances, past, present, or future, be otherwise ; 
 on these, I say, no one deliberates, at least not while 
 iie apprehends them to be such^; for by such a deli- 
 13. Hence beration nothing is gained. And you may draw your 
 conclud- conclusions and inferences, sometimes from premises 
 cruXXsXo- which you have arrived at by former syllogisms ; and 
 yi(yfi.ivoiv sometimes from propositions, not syllogistically de- 
 r|,''„°'ye; 'duced, but requiring such a process by reason of their 
 lengthy, not being probable at first sight ; but of these pro- 
 ^^'^\\ cesses, it is impossible that the former should not be, 
 'yil-rmJ ^^''^^ to follow up, by reason of its prolixity (for your 
 fiiflcofii- hearer^ is supposed to be a man of merely ordinary 
 ""xx understanding), and the latter defective in persuasive 
 yKTfiou, efficacy, by reason of its not being deduced out of 
 being im- principles either acknowledged, or probable ; so that 
 — Se'tobe"^' ^® necessary that both the enthymem and example 
 avoided, should be conversant about points which, generally 
 speaking, admit of being otherwise, (the example an- 
 swering to induction, and the enthymem to syllo- 
 
 ° A man under a mistaken idea of the nature of the subject 
 may possibly deliberate on a question, the nature of which is 
 fixed and necessary. Still, however, as long as he remains 
 under this impression, the subject relatively to him is of a con- 
 tingent nature. 
 
 ^ Cicero gives a similar caution ; — " Hasc nostra oratio 
 multitudinis est auribus accoinmodanda, ad oblectandos animos, 
 ad impellendos, ad ea probanda quae non aurificis statera, sed 
 quadam populari trutina examinantur." De Orat. lib. ii. We 
 may further prove that this precept has its foundation in na- 
 ture, by quoting the words of a celebrated modern writer, who, 
 at least in penetration and knowledge of mankind, had few 
 superiors : " The receipt to make a speaker, and an applauded 
 one too, is short and easy. Take common sense quantum suf- 
 ficit; add a little application to the rules and orders of the 
 House ; throw obvious thoughts in a new light, and make up 
 the whole with a large quantity of purity, correctness, and 
 elegance of style. Take it for granted that by far the greatest 
 part of mankind neither analyse nor search to the bottom • 
 they are incapable of penetrating deeper than the surface." 
 Lord Chesterfield's Letters. 
 
CHAP. II.] RHETORIC. 17 
 
 gism,) and be deduced out of few, and frequently out 
 of fewer intermediate propositions than the syllogism, 
 in its original form, consisted of. For if any of these- 
 be known, it is not necessary to mention it ; for the 
 hearer of himself makes this addition. For example, 
 in order to convey the information that Dorieus was 
 conqueror in a contest where a chaplet is the prize ; 
 it suffices to say, that he conquered in the Olympic 
 games : but as to the circumstance that, having con- 
 quered at Olympia, he got a chaplet, there is no ne- 
 cessity for adding it, because every one knows it. 
 
 But as the necessary premises out of which theiiW. En- 
 syUogisms of rhetoric ai-e formed are very few, (for thymcms 
 the majority of questions about which decisions and cluoed ei- 
 consideration are exercised admit of being otherwise ; ther from 
 because men deliberate and consider on the subjects ''""^ " 
 of human conduct, and all conduct is of this con- 
 tingent nature, nor is a single branch, I may say, of 
 these subjects necessary,) and it cannot but be that 
 you should deduce contingent conclusions from pre- 
 mises whose nature is such ; and necessary ones, 
 from necessary ; (this is evident to us from the 
 Analytics :) I say, since this is the case, it is plain 
 that the .premises out of which enthymems are de- 1 
 duced, will be some of them necessary, but the v 
 greatest part contingent : for enthymems are ad- 
 duced from probabilities '" (ti/cora) and signs (o-jjjuEla). 
 And thus it follows of necessity, that, of these, each 
 
 "• In despair of binding adequate English expressions for the 
 words EiKos and a-rintloi/, I have acquiesced in the usual, but 
 erroneous translation. At the risk of incurring the charge of 
 prolixity, the following are given as the most popular ways of 
 explaining this difficult subject. Dr. Whately considers this 
 " a division of arguments according to the relation of the sub- 
 ject-matter of the premises to that of the conclusion." The 
 eiKos (or iioTi of Aristotle) he takes to be an a priori argu- 
 ment, which may be employed to accoimt for the fact supposed 
 granted. The aniiiiov (or Sti of Aristotle) and example, 
 arguments which could not be so employed : vid. Rhetoric, p. 
 116. Others, again, maintain that the irii/istov is an argument 
 to prove past matters, the siicos to prove fature. The majority 
 of commentators, however, consider the sikiJs and artiitiov as 
 propositions in different matter : thus, — 
 C 
 
18 ARISTOTLE'S [book I. 
 
 respectively is identified with each of the former. 
 15. Deft- For probability is what usually happens, not abso- 
 lution of A, r 
 
 eiKos. 
 
 eUas, m contingent matter, <Tr,f>.tioii in necessary matter. 
 
 in the ratio of an univer- I 
 
 sal to a particular. , — ' 1 
 
 As a particular As an universal 
 to an universal. to a particular. 
 
 (Illicit process 
 J of the minor 
 j term,) hence 
 
 inconclusive. 
 
 ' ^vaynaiov or t£k- \ fir) ivaytcaiov dyw- 
 ixripiou. (Conclu- I vu/uoi/. (Inconclu- 
 sive, and only ■( sive, the middle 
 assailable in the term not beiag 
 premises.) |_distributed.) 
 
 Another explanation, founded on three passages, the first in 
 the Analytics ; the second by Cicero (de Inv. i. 30) ; the third 
 in Quintilian, (v. c. ix. 10,) adopted by Majoragius, is as fol- 
 lows : The o-ij/jeTo!/ is some sensible fact, either attested by sense 
 or reducible thereto, not a general truth ; hence it will be the 
 miraor premiss in the enthymem, not the major, the t^mjitiSixcvov, 
 or thing signified by it, being the conclusion, and as the latter 
 is known solely through and by the former, there is always a 
 real or supposed connexion between them. 
 
 1st. The thing signified may be contained in the sign which 
 implies not only that, but something more. The latter then, 
 as regards the former, will stand in the ratio of a whole to its 
 part ; as individual or particular nature to common or generic : 
 what is definite always containing or implying more than what 
 is indefinite (on wloich principle we are told in logic that the 
 species is more of a whole than a genus) . Hence it is defined, 
 ti>9 Toiu KadzKaiTTov Ti TTpo^ TO Ka66\ou, aud Is callcd avayKjcuov 
 or TEK/inpLov. Hence Quintilian, obsei'ving the conclusiveness 
 of this argument, denies it the name of argument at all : 
 " Non sunt argumenta, quia ubi ilia sunt, quasstio non est;" 
 an error resembling that made by certain modem philosophers, 
 who deny the utility of logic because the premises of a syllo- 
 gism virtually imply the conclusion. 
 
 2nd. The thing signified may not be contained or implied in 
 the sign. The latter being more vague and indefinite than the 
 former ; bearing to the thing signified the ratio of a part to the 
 whole, as common or generic nature to individual or particular, 
 (ijs Twy Kaf)6\o\j Tt Trpos to Kaxd fiEpoi. This enthymem ap- 
 pears in the same mood as the first, scilicet, Barbara, but in 
 the second fig-ure, hence an illicit process of the minor term. 
 Note, that as the ati/j-ilov is always the minor and the thing 
 signified the conclusion, the relation here spoken of as ica66\o\j, 
 and KUTCL ixipo^, must be understood not of the logical relation 
 in the syllogism between the major premiss and the conclusion, 
 but of the relation between two things, one specific, the other 
 general. Now in the eikos enlhypiem, on the contrary, the 
 
CHAP. II.] RHETORIC. 19 
 
 lutely so, however, as some define it, but, at any rate, 
 that which, in contingent matter, has itself so to- 
 wards that with respect to which it is probable, as 
 an universal to a particular ". But of the signs, one 16. Three 
 
 relation of £i/cos and tlie conclusion (eksii/o Trpos o tiicos) is the 
 strict logical relation of universal to particular, or of a generic 
 law to its application in an individual instance. The tU-os 
 Jherefore is tie major premiss, not the minor. 
 
 We see that the universal major in the a-rifiiiov enthymem 
 cannot he the mi/xiiov itself, because it is detached from any 
 particular relation, and involves no particular deduction : nor 
 yet is this major, though universal, an e^kos, heing dTrXws and 
 totally true, which is inconsistent with tie very meaning of 
 the word " prohable." 
 
 Again, though the minor premiss of the iIkSs enthymem 
 contains a simple matter of fact, it is not a a-ti/AtJipi', for to con- 
 stitute a sign it must point to something else equally necessary 
 •with itself; a condition not fulfilled by the eikos enthymem 
 conclusion. Still there is so much affinity between the minor 
 premiss of the eikos enthymem, and the dvuivvixov o-ij/iEiov, that 
 by converting the major premiss, with the addition of the word 
 " probably " to the copula, we shall change the o-ij^eIoj/ into 
 an E'Kos of low degree : e. g. 
 
 All who have a fever breathe Those who breathe hard pro- 
 hard, bably have a fever. 
 
 This man breathes hard. This man breathes hard. 
 
 This man has a fever. This manproiofi??/ has a fever. 
 
 And this affinity perhaps led Quintilian to confound Aristotle's 
 ivuivvfiou (T-rjfjLalov with-his eIkos. (lib. v, c. ix. § 8.) It is this 
 kind of " sign" and tie argument deducible from it, which 
 constitutes what, in criminal cases, is called circumstantial 
 evidence. 
 
 Aristotle mentions another sort of o-i)jueTok (§ 18) which 
 comes out a syllogism in the third figure, with an universal 
 conclusion, and hence its eiTor is an illicit process of the mi- 
 nor term. The principle on which this syllogism proceeds is 
 an imperfect, precarious induction, and endeavours to deduce 
 a general truth from a particular instance. The ratio, there- 
 fore, of the sign to the thing signified, is as one to all. This, 
 it will be observed, is a new signification of the terms xaOoXov 
 and Kad' 'iKacrrou, but one which they will obviously admit, and 
 borne out by the example he adduces. 
 
 The above explanation has been given rather at length, be- 
 cause it is not generally so well known as tlie others, nor so 
 easy to follow. 
 
 " The usual definition of eIkos is considered by Aristotle as 
 
 too vague ; he limits it, therefore, to contingent matter, and 
 
 would have it stand in such a relation to the conclusion to be 
 
 drawn, as an universal to a particular. For instance, the 
 
 C 2 
 
20 ARISTOTLE'S [book 1. 
 
 different has the same ratio as a particular to an universal ; 
 
 soi-tsof ^]jg other, as an universal to a particular : and of 
 
 <n,fj.Eia. ^jjggg^ ^YiQ one which is necessarily conclusive, I call 
 
 TSKfiripiov ; but the other, which is not necessary, has 
 
 no name assigned to it in reference to its difference 
 
 17. TCK- [as a species]. Now by necessary propositions, I 
 fii'iptov. iiiean those out of which a syllogism is adduced ; and 
 
 hence this kind of signs is called reKfiripiov, for when 
 . they think it impossible to do away what has been 
 stated, people then esteem that they adduce a reKfiri- 
 piov ; the point having been evinced and concluded; 
 for, according to the old language, TtKfiap is the 
 
 18. (Til- same as " a boundary P Again, there is one sign 
 fxiia dvm; Yv-hose ratio,is as that of a particular to an universal : 
 ""'"'■ thus, were one to assert, for instance, that " The 
 
 wise are just ; because Socrates was wise and just;" 
 this then is a sign, but it may be done away, even 
 supposing the premiss stated to be ti'ue ; for it vio- 
 lates the rules of syllogism, as to the other i^, when, 
 for instance, a person alleges as a sign that a man is 
 sick, his being in a fever ; or says a woman has had 
 a child, because she has milk ; this is a necessary 
 sign ; which very one of the signs alone amounts to 
 a TtKfifipiov ; since it alone, if the premiss be true, 
 'cannot be done away. The other sign is in the ratio 
 of an universal to a particular ; as if, for instance, 
 
 Corinthians at Athens state as an eEkos, that the Corcyrseans 
 ■were addicted to piracy, their shunning alliances with other 
 states, because those who would become pirates study secrecy; 
 but this broad fact is, when compared with the single case of 
 the Corcyrajans, as an universal to a particular, or as a whole 
 to a part, pirates being one class only of the many who study 
 secrecy as a veil to crime. It is moreover a case in contingent 
 matter ; for those who study secrecy, may or may not be ad- 
 dicted to piracy. 
 
 "^ TcK/inpiou, the other species of a-rifiuov : e. g. " Ut mihi 
 Platonis illud, sen quis dixit alius, perelegans esse videatur; 
 quem cum ex alto ignotas ad terras tempestas et in desertum 
 littus detulisset, timentibus ceeteris propter ignorationem lo- 
 corum, animadvertisse dicunt in areni geometricas formas 
 quasdam esse descriptas ; quas ut vidisset, exclamavisse ut 
 bono essent animo ; videre enim se hominum vestigia ; qute 
 videlicet ille non ex agii consitura, quam cernebat, sed ex doc- 
 trinee indiciis interpretabatur." Cic. de Rep. c. xvii. p. 52. 
 
CHAP. 11.] EHETORIC. 21 
 
 one were to say it was a sign that a man has a fever, 
 because he breathes thickly. But this, even granting 
 the premiss be true, may be done away : for it is 
 very possible that one who has not a fever should 
 breathe thickly. Now what is probability, what sign, 
 and what TEKfiripioi', and in what they differ, has 
 been explained : but in the Analytics [these several 
 gradations of proofj as well as the reasons why some 
 are not correctly inferred, and others are, have been.* 
 distinctly stated with greater clearness ''. As to ex- 19. Ex- 
 ample, it has been stated that it is an induction, and ample, or 
 induction on what kind of subjects ; and its ratio is indue™'' 
 neither that of a part to a whole, nor of a whole to a, tion. 
 part, nor of a whole to a whole : ..^t example js_in*a>s ^Llpo^ 
 the ratjo of a j)a,rt to a part''', of a similar case to a '^'"'^ "'" 
 simirar, when, both coming under the same genus, 
 the one case happens to be better known than the 
 other. For instance, you assert that Dionysius, in 
 asking a guard, has views of setting up a tyranny, 
 because Pisistratus before him, when designing this, 
 began to ask for a body guard, and when he got it, 
 established himself as tyrant ; so too did Theogenes, 
 at Megara. And all other persons who have acted 
 in this way, and with whom your audience are ac- 
 quainted, become examples against Dionysius, with 
 respect to whom they do not yet know whether he 
 be asking a guard with this intention : and all these 
 
 ^3 In the Analytics, lie says, "the eI/cos is Trpoxaerts 'IvSo^o^^ 
 but the orrifjiiiov professes to he irpoTatri^ diroSeiKi-Lidj^ "whether 
 necessary or probable. Now an enthymem (he continues) is 
 an imperfect syllogism, consisting of sUo-ra and o-i)|UETa, and 
 the latter are assumed in three ways, according to the number 
 of the iigures of syllogism (for Aristotle made only three), the 
 first, second, and fiird of logic. In all these the a-rnisiou is the 
 /lEffoK (i. e. the argumentum, or miitor proposition), but the 
 first alone is aXuTon." Analytic. Prior, lib. ii. c. xxix. £dit. 
 Biponf. ^ - 
 
 " Not as a part to a whole, for that would be <rtt/iilov ; nor 
 as a. whole to a part, for that would be rsK/iripiov : nor as a 
 whole to a whole, for that would be Eiraymy^ (which, when 
 perfect, reasons from a whole taken indiviciuaUy to the same 
 taken collectively). Example therefore is in the ratio of a part 
 to a part. 
 
22 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book 1. 
 
 20. Two 
 different 
 sorts of 
 enthy- 
 mem. 
 
 21 
 
 1st. T-O- 
 
 •jrot. 
 
 2nd. 
 
 cases come under the same general premiss '^, that he 
 who is laying schemes to set up a tyranny, asks a 
 guard. Now then the points have been stated out of 
 which the proofs which have an air of demonstration 
 are adduced. 
 
 The difference of enthymems is considerable, and 
 has remarkably escaped nearly every writer : it is, 
 too, a difference the very same as exists between syl- 
 logisms in logic : for some enthymems there are of 
 applicability equal to that of rhetoric itself, in the 
 same way that in logic some syllogisms are ; others, 
 according to the extent of other arts arid faculties, 
 existing, some already, and others not yet comprised 
 by rules. And hence those who employ them both 
 escape the observation of their hearers, and if they 
 handle them more than is right, pass out of their pro- 
 per characters as mere orators. This however will 
 become clearer, if stated more in detail. I call those 
 forms of reasoning '^ properly logical or rhetorical, in 
 reference to which, I use the expression places ; such 
 are those which apply with equal advantage to ques- 
 tions of justice, and natural philosophy, and of the 
 philosophy of social life, and to numerous other sub- 
 jects which differ in species. The place for instance, 
 
 ^ of greater and less ; for there will not be a whit more 
 advantage in deducing a syllogism or an enthymem 
 from this place, on a question of justice or of natural 
 philosophy, than on any other subject whatsoever; 
 
 ori. and yet there are questions speoiflcaUy distinct. But 
 I call peculiar, all those reasonings which arise out of 
 propositions conversant with each species and genus 
 of subjects ; for instance, there are propositions on 
 subjects of natural philosophy '^ out of which neither 
 
 '=^ By the to auTo yivoi is understood a common circum- 
 stance and property of nature ; by the to aliTd KadoXov, the 
 general proposition in reference to all such cases. 
 
 '« AiaXsKTiKois Kal priTopiKoin:, i. e. so exactly correspond- 
 ing, in point of extent, to these arts, as to be applicable as 
 often, and with as little limitation, as they are themselves. 
 
 " This appears evident enough ; yet the whole system of 
 judicial astrology and the planetary influences was notiiing 
 more than an attempt of the kind. 
 
CHAP. II.] RHETORIC. 23 
 
 enthymem nor syllogism could be constructed respect- 
 ing morals ; and on this subject, again, there are 
 others out of which will arise no reasoning respecting 
 natural philosophy ; this is also the case equally on 
 every subject. Now the first-mentioned reasonings 
 (the TOTTOi) will render a man informed on no class of 
 subjects, for they are about no distinct subject-matter : 
 as to the other (tSta), the orator, in proportion as he 
 makes the better " selection of propositions peculiar, 
 will imperceptibly produce a science diiferent from 
 mere rhetoric or logic '^ ; for, if he light on first prin- 
 ciples, thenceforth, it will no longer be rhetoric or ■^ 
 logic which he is employing, but that science whose 
 principles he embraces. 
 
 The greatest number of enthymems are constructed 22. 
 out of these peculiar propositions, which are particu- 
 lar and limited ; and from the universal ones, the 
 less. Just then as I did in the Topics, so here must 
 I make a distinction of the peculiar ^^ propositions and 
 places of enthymems, whence we are to deduce them. 
 Now I mean by elSri, those propositions which are 
 peculiar to the several kinds of rhetoric ; by Towot, 
 those which are common alike to all. Let us then tiSij fim 
 treat of the special propositions before the others, discussed. 
 Let us, however, first ascertain the kinds of rhetoric 
 itself ; in order that having distinguished them as to 
 
 *8 BgXxtft), . ie. better^ qua the art in question is concerned ; 
 — though as regarded by the logician or rhetorician, they will be 
 in fact worse, inasmuch as they tend to merge these faculties, 
 •whose characteristic is universal applicability, in that particu- 
 lar art from whence the -TrpoTdo-ets happen to be deduced. 
 
 '" We may here mention that IioKiktikti is not quite what 
 we understand by logic, but seems rather to have been the 
 faculty of conversation, which the ancients cultivated as a sci- 
 eace, and of which logic was a species. " Zeno, the Eleatic, 
 divided his dialectics into three parts : on consequences, spm- 
 TJio-K and ipLnTiKt)." Whately's Logic. Diog. Laert. in Pla- 
 tone, 52, § 87. 
 
 * He here designates, by the name ilSv, those propositions 
 of limited applicability which he had before called Um ; those, 
 in fact, which he considers as contradistinguished from the 
 ToTTOL or general arguments, which he tells us are applicable 
 to a range of subjects as little limited as the subjects of rheto- 
 ric itself. 
 
24 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book I. 
 
 their number, we may separately ascertain the ele- 
 ments of persuasion and propositions peculiar to 
 each^'. 
 
 1. An ora- 
 tion pre- 
 supposes 
 tliree 
 things : 
 1st. a 
 speaker : 
 2nd. a 
 subject : 
 3ra. a 
 hearer. 
 
 2. Hear- 
 ers of 
 three 
 sorts. 
 
 3. Hence 
 three 
 kinds of 
 rhetoric ; 
 Delibera- 
 tive, Ju- 
 dicial, 
 Epidcic- 
 tic. 
 Business. 
 
 4. Time 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 He shows that there are three hinds nf Ehetoric ; what_ is 
 the end of each ; and on what subject we must provide 
 ourselves with propositions. 
 
 The species of rhetoric are three in number, for of 
 so many descriptions are the hearers of orations ; be- 
 cause an oration is constituted of three things, of the 
 speaker, and of the subject about which he speaks, 
 and of the person to whom ; and to him it is that 
 the end of the speech has its reference ; I mean to 
 the hearer. The hearer must of necessity be either 
 an unconcerned hearer, or a judge; and a judge 
 either of things past or to come ; one then acts as 
 judge respecting what is yet to happen, as the mem- 
 ber of a popular assembly ; the other respecting what 
 has already taken place, as the president of a court 
 of justice ; the other respecting the abilities of the 
 orator, as the unconcerned hearer'. Thus, then, 
 there will necessarily result three kinds of orations, 
 the deliberative, judicial, and demonstrative^. The 
 business of deliberation is partly exhortation, partly 
 dissuasion ; for invariably those who in their indivi- 
 dual capacities simply advise, and those who publicly 
 harangue, effect one of these objects. The business 
 of judicial rhetoric is partly accusation, partly de- 
 fence ; for the litigants must of course do one or the 
 other of these things. Of demonstrative the busi- 
 ness is partly praise, partly blame. Moreover the 
 
 '^ Cf. lib. ii. c. 22, § 13 : crroix^Xov Si Xiyw kuI to'ttoi/ ii/Su- 
 fiVfioTos t6 aiiTo : and lib. ii. <?. 26, § 1 : to ydp aur^ \iyia 
 aTOfX_^Xou KaX Toirov. 
 
 ' Both hearers are interested; but the Sntopoi is a specula- 
 tive, the KpiTY}^ a practical, auditor. 
 
 ' Vide Quarterly Eeview, July, 1822, No. liv. vol. 27, p. 391. 
 
CHAP. III.] RHETORIC. 25 
 
 time proper to each of these respectively is, to the 
 deliberative orator, the future; for in exhorting or 
 dissuading, he advises respecting things future'. The 
 time proper to a judicial pleader is the past ; for it 
 is ever on the subject of actions already done, that 
 the one party accuses, and the other defends. To 
 the demonstrative orator the ■present time is the most 
 appropriate, for it is in reference to qualities actually 
 possessed that all either praise or blame. Orators, 
 however, do very frequently avail themselves of 
 other times ; as well by awakening a recollection of 
 what has already happened, as by anticipating what 
 is likely to happen. The end of each of these 5. and end 
 branches is different, and, as belonging to three sub- E^".^^"^ 
 jects, is itself triple. 
 
 The object of the deliberative orator is the expe- 
 dient and inexpedient ; for he who recommends, ad- 
 vises you to adopt the better measure ; but he who 
 dissuades, diverts you from the worse ; the other 
 considerations either of justice and injustice, of 
 honour or disgrace, he adjoins by the way, in addi- 
 tion to these two. The object of the judicial pleader 
 is justice and injustice ; but he also embraces by the 
 way those other considerations. The object of those 
 who praise and blame is honour and disgrace ; and 
 these also refer other considerations to these two. 
 
 But we may take as a sign that what I have stated 6. Proof 
 is the particular object of each, the fact that there ^^^ ^.^^ 
 are times when they wiU not feel inclined even to 
 raise a question about the other : the litigant, for 
 example, will not always deny that the fact has taken 
 place, or that it has hurt the other party ; but he 
 
 ^ " Passion may te as much excited ty the orator's reason- 
 ings on a future event, as on one past ; and indeed the future, 
 Cffiteris paribus, produces the greater effect on us, as that to 
 •which we are approaching, and what every moment gives us 
 the added interest in, which it takes from the past. But then 
 the past has the counterbalancing privilege of being susceptible 
 of infinitely better testimony and evidence, from memory, pre- 
 sent efiects, etc. ; memory, indeed, the great eye of the mind, 
 unlike that of the body, sees all we have left behind, and no- 
 thing before it." Campbell, Phil, of Rhet 
 
26 ARISTOTLE'S [book I. 
 
 never, under any circumstances, would admit that he 
 has been guilty of injustice toward him ; for then 
 would there he no need of a judicial decision. In the 
 same way the deliberative orator very often aban- 
 dons the other considerations ; but as to the point 
 that he is advising what is disadvantageous, or dis- 
 suading from what is useful, this will he never admit ; 
 but it frequently happens that (on a question of in- 
 vasion) they do not trouble themselves to make out 
 that the subjugating a neighbouring people is not in- 
 consistent with justice. Just so those who praise 
 and blame do not consider whether the person's con- 
 duct has been advantageous or disadvantageous ; nay, 
 they, in many instances, set it down on the score of 
 praise, that, overlooking his own interests, he wrought 
 some deed of honour : thus they praise AchiUes, be- 
 cause he came to aid the cause of his comrade Pa- 
 troclus, with full knowledge that himself was fated 
 to die ; it being in his power, [by withholding that 
 aid,] to live. To him, however, a death such as this 
 was the more honourable prize : but to live would 
 have been advantageous. 
 7. The From what has been said, it is plain that the orator 
 
 orator in mugt firgt be in possession of propositions on the sub- 
 must ject of each of these divisions, separately ; for the 
 have KOI- reKjxijpia, the probabilities and signs, are degrees of 
 "■rlJ^if^ proof available to rhetoric generally. It is necessary 
 because syllogism, in general, is made up of proposi- 
 tions, and the enthymem is a syllogism made up of 
 the propositions which have been mentioned. 
 
 8. And as it cannot be that what is impossible should 
 ever heretofore have been done or should ev^r be 
 done hereafter, but what is possible, only : as again 
 it cannot be that what has not happened, or that 
 what is never about to happen, ever should, the one 
 have been already done, the other be about to be 
 done : it becomes necessary for the deliberative, ju- 
 dicial, and demonstrative orator to have propositions 
 on the subject of possibility and impossibility ; and 
 on the questions, whether a fact has or has not hap- 
 
 9. pened, will or will not take place. And further, 
 
CHAP. III.] RHETORIC. 27 
 
 since all, as well in praising as in blaming, as well in 
 exhorting as in dissuading, as well in accusing as in 
 defending, attempt to evince not only the points I 
 have mentioned, but likewise to prove respecting this 
 good or bad, this honourable or dishonourable, this 
 just or unjust, that it is, moreover, either great or 
 small, whether speaking of the things independently, 
 or comparing them respectively one with another : 
 as this is the case, it is plain that it wiU be necessary 
 to have propositions respecting the degrees of great 
 and small, of greater and less, as well general, as pe- 
 culiar to each division : what good, for instance, is 
 greater or less, what deviation from justice, or what 
 conformity to it ; and so in the same way also re- 
 specting the other subjects. The points then have 
 been stated, respecting which it will be absolutely 
 necessary to get at propositions. We must, after this, 
 make a distinction between each of these respectively ; 
 the questions, for instance, about which deUberation 
 is conversant ; those, too, about which demonstra- 
 tive rhetoric is concerned ; and, thirdly, those about 
 which judicial. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The Questions relative to which that Orator should be in 
 possession of Propositions, who is ahovt to advise on 
 points of the highest concernment. 
 
 FmsT, then, we must ascertain what kind of good ^^^^ 
 or evil it' is respecting which the deliberative orator the orator 
 gives his advice ; for we have seen that it is not about advises on 
 every kind, but about such as may or may not befall subjects, 
 us'. Such however as either has or will have an 2. notne- 
 existence of necessity ; such, again, as it is impossible "^^^"^ ■ 
 should exist or be produced ; respecting every such 
 description [of good or evil] there never is any de- 
 
 ' This limitation -was established in cap. ii. § ) 2. He de- 
 Telopes this point more fully, Nich. Eth. iii. cap. 3. 
 
28 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book 1. 
 
 3. nor on 
 all that 
 are con- 
 tingent; 
 
 but where 
 we appre- 
 hend a 
 power of 
 perform- 
 ance. 
 
 4. Minute 
 discus- 
 sions here 
 to be 
 avoided, 
 as not in 
 the pro- 
 vince of 
 rhetoric, 
 
 5. which 
 is made 
 up of the 
 
 liberation : neither, in fact, is there about every one 
 even of contingent subjects ; for of goods which may 
 or may not accrue^, some exist naturally, others are 
 produced by chance, on the subject of which it is not 
 worth while to deliberate ; but evidently [heis con- 
 fined to subjects] about which men resolve ; of which 
 character are all such as are of a nature'to be referred 
 to ourselves, and the first principle of whose creation 
 is in our own power ; for in deliberation we carry 
 on our views thus far, viz. till we shall ascertain 
 whether the achievement of the object be possible to 
 us or not *. 
 
 Now, to enumerate in accurate detail, and to di- 
 vide into separate species, every subject about which 
 men are wont to interest themselves ; to enter more- 
 over into minute distinctions conformable to the stand- 
 ard of truth to the very utmost that the subject ad- 
 mits it; these inquiries it is not necessary, on the 
 present occasion, to institute, by reason that they be- 
 long not to the art of rhetoric, but to some art whose 
 province is, in a more peculiar manner, intellect, and 
 truth'' ; and because many speculations more than 
 are proper to this art have already been assigned to 
 it. For that remark is true, which I have before 
 made; that rhetoric is made up of the science of 
 
 *. Twi/ i.vhzypikkvuiv koX yLyvstrdat /cat fin- It may be well to 
 remark of this expression, which has occurred so often already, 
 and will much more frequently in the sequel, that it is Aristo- 
 tle's usual appellative for things contingent, things which may 
 as well happen as not. He has himself defined it thus — Xlym 
 d' EvSty^EtrBaL, kclI to iv8E-^6fiEvov, ou firj ovTOi dvayKaiov, TcOiy- 
 TOB 6' virdp'^siVf oij^Etf iffTaL Slcl tout advvaTov, Anal. Pri. lib. 
 i. c. 13. I call_thjt-axQlitingenjt,_whieh not being necessary, 
 but being supposed to be, there will follow nothing impossible 
 from such a supposition. 
 
 ' " Inciditur omnis jam deliberatio si intelligitur non posse 
 fieri, aut si necessitas affertur." Cicero de Orat. ii. For an 
 account of things, ^ui/arii viuv, vid. lib. ii. c. 19. 
 
 * Such minute research, as it tends rather to bewilder, must 
 Sf necessity be excluded from rhetoric, which is always sup- 
 posed to address an audience of ordinary abilities ; 6 Kpiriis 
 viroKELTaL Elpat oTrXoOs, cap. ii. § 13 ; whereas such distinc- 
 tions could only be appreciated by the philosopher and man 
 of education. 
 
CHAP. lY.] RHETORIC. 29 
 
 logic', and of that branch of the science of social life analytical 
 which recognises the subject of morals ; and it partly j'.°5' V°- . 
 resembles logic, partly the declamations of the so- en^s •'*''' 
 phists : and in exact proportion as one shall attempt 6. and 
 to get up logic or rhetoric, not as they are general JftoeTer 
 faculties, but as distinct sciences, he will unwittingly not as a 
 do away their nature by his encroaching, in the act facility 
 of so tricking them out, upon sciences of certain deji- ^^^^ ^'_ 
 rate subject-matter, and not of words alone. Let us, -riate's 
 however, even on the present occasion, discuss such fr°™ t^^ 
 points as it is worth while to enlarge upon, and ^^ ' 
 which stiU reserve the more full consideration for „. 
 the science of social life : for nearly all the questions sions for 
 on which men deliberate, and on which the deUbera- the em- 
 tive orator harangues, those at least of the highest oj-"^^"! 
 concernment, are in number five^; and these are rativeora- 
 questions oX. finance, of war and peace, and again re- tory. 
 specting the safeguard of the territory, and respect- 2' ^oX°! 
 ing imports and exports, and also respecting legisla- /loi. 3. 
 
 ture. 0uXa«:J7._ 
 
 So that it wiU be fitting that the orator, who is g] lolwl'.' 
 
 about to give his advice on the subject of the finance 8. i. iro- 
 
 of the state, be acquainted with its revenues, both ?<"• ^i- 
 ^ nances. 
 
 * The analytical science seems to have been the analysis of 
 arguments. 
 
 ^ All society supposes law (vonoi) • the first ohject of which 
 is the support of its inhabitants internally (-rpocjtTi) ; and the 
 second its territory externally {<pxi\aKri) ; in maintaining which 
 war (ttoXe/xos) must some time or other be unavoidable, and to 
 carry that on, fixed revenues (iro'poi) are requisite. We may 
 observe, then, a regular gradation in these five questions ; 
 though in his examination of them Aristotle proceeds analy- 
 tically, and takes that which first presents itself in civilized 
 society ; namely, the ways and means. Xenophon also, in his 
 Memorabilia, represents Socrates as using nearly the same five 
 subjects and arrangement, when dissuading Glaucon, a young 
 Athenian, from attempting politics too early. Perhaps Aris- 
 totle may have borrowed the hint from him. Cf. Xenoph. 
 Mem. lib. iii. c. 6 : and a translation of the whole passage in 
 tbe posthumous works of Dr. Franklin, vol. v. p. 77. Land. 
 1819. The reader will find an instance of Tpoc^ij practised by 
 the piratical states of Greece, in Thucydides, lib. i. c. 5, and 
 of 'jropoi in the first tax levied at Rome, when the militia were 
 turned into a standing aimy, during the war with Veil. Livy, 
 lib. iv. 
 
30 ARISTOTLE'S [book i, 
 
 what and how great they may be ; in order that, if 
 any branch is overlooked, it may be added to the 
 rest ; and, if any be in default, it may be augmented. 
 Moreover he should be acquainted with the whole 
 expenditure of the state, that if any expense be su- 
 perfluous it may be curtailed ; if any too high, it may 
 be reduced. For men become more wealthy, not 
 only by adding to their capital stock, but by detract- 
 ing from their expenses as well. These, however, are 
 points which we must not only learn from our own 
 experience as individuals ; but, with a view to de- 
 liberation on these subjects, one ought to be qualified 
 by a research into the discoveries made by other 
 people. 
 9. ii. 7r6- Respecting questions of war and peace, the orator 
 A.E/ios Kai must needs be acquainted with the force of the state, 
 Wajaiid ^^°'^'^ great it actually is already, and how great it 
 peace. admits of becoming ; of what description also it is 
 already, and what additions admit of being made to 
 it. Moreover he should know both what wars the 
 state has been engaged in, and how it has conducted 
 them. This must he needs know, not in relation to 
 his own state only, but as regards frontier states 
 also ; particularly in the case of those with whom 
 there is a likelihood of being at war, in order that 
 toward the more powerful, pacific measures may be 
 held, and that in regard to the weaker, it may rest 
 with his own state to make war or not. He should 
 also be acquainted with the description of force which 
 belongs to each state, whether it resemble or differ' 
 from his own ; for it is possible, even in this respect, 
 to secure an advantage to yourself, or to have one 
 taken by the enemy. In order to all which things, 
 the orator must necessarily have considered with at- 
 tention the wars, not of his own state only, but those 
 also of others, what has been their issue ; for it is 
 natural that from similar causes similar results should 
 accrue. 
 
 ' See this point touched on hy Pericles, Thucyd. i. 141 
 where he declares the Peloponnesians to be TroXefxt'iii, fit) Trpas 
 ofxoiav dvTtTrapatTKsOtjVt adui/aTot. 
 
I CHAP. IV.] KHETORIC. 31 
 
 , i Moreover as regards the safeguard of the terri- 10. iii. 0i>- 
 lli> tory, it should not escape his attention how that is ^''"'• 
 ti preserved ; but he must be acquainted as well with guard of 
 A the numbers, as the nature of the garrisons, and with the coim- 
 the positions of the strong holds : this it is impossi- *^' 
 ble that one not acquainted with the country should 
 know. But known it must be, in order that if any 
 garrison be weak, it may be reinforced ; if any be 
 unnecessary, it may be done away, and the force 
 may rather maintain positions strictly adapted to 
 defence. 
 
 Again, on the subject of provision, the orator 11. iv. 
 should know how great a consumption is sijifioient to Tj">^p- 
 subsist the state, and of what kind that is which aon, i. e. 
 arises at home, and what is imported; and those imports 
 nations whose exports there is need of, and those to ^j^^s^'^ 
 whose markets he wants to import his home produc- 
 tions, in order that commercial treaties and agree- 
 ments may be entered into with them. [AU this 
 should the orator be acquainted with], because it is 
 absolutely necessary strictly to preserve your citi- 
 zens from any ground of quarrel in two of their 
 relations, viz. in respect to those physically their su- 
 periors*, and those who may be serviceable in afore- 
 mentioned points. 
 
 Thus much then it is absolutely necessary that the 
 deliberative orator should be able to consider, in 
 order to the security of the state ; neither is an at- 12, f. v6- 
 tention to legislation the least essential ; for in its ^^^^' 
 legislative enactments stands the safety of the state. 
 And thus it becomes requisite, both that he should 
 know how many forms of government there are, and 
 what system of things is expedient for each ; and 
 what things, as well peculiar to the government, as 
 opposite to it, have a natural tendency to destroy 
 it'. I talk of a government being destroyed by 
 
 * He gives hints, § 9, about what is necessary, oirms irpos 
 
 fUV Tt/US KptLTOVS £tp7JI/£U1JTat. 
 
 ' For a statement of the things, peculiar to democracy and 
 oKgarchy, -which hare a tendency to destroy them, see the 
 speeches of Megabyzus and Darius, ou the question of the con. 
 
32 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book 
 
 things peculiar to itself; because, with the exception 
 of the most excellent form of government, every 
 other, by being relaxed or strained too much, de- 
 stroys itself. Thus a democracy, not only when 
 relaxed, but even when overstrained, grows weaker, 
 and thus will at last be brought an oligarchy. 
 Just as hookedness or flatness of the nose, not only 
 approach the mean in proportion as they relax from* 
 the excess, but also, when they become excessively 
 hooked or flat, dispose the nostrils in such a way as 
 no longer so resemble the nasal organ. 
 
 It is serviceable moreover with a view to legisla- 
 tion, to apprehend not only what constitution is ex- 
 pedient, by deriving your view from circumstances 
 past, but to become acquainted also with the consti- 
 tution of other states, and to what kind of constitu- 
 tions what sort of measures are adapted. Thus it is 
 plain, that accounts of travellers are of use with a 
 view to legislation ; for hence we are able to ascer- 
 of foreign tain what the laws of other nations are ; and with a 
 ako^L™ view to debates on matters of state, the researches of 
 those who write on human conduct are useful : all 
 these points however form part, not of rhetoric, but 
 of the science of social life. 
 
 So many then are the questions of highest con- 
 cern touching which the deliberative orator must be 
 in possession of propositions. We will, however, 
 again discuss the elements out of which it is proper 
 to exhort and dissuade, as well on these as on other 
 questions. 
 
 13. 
 
 The ac- 
 counts 
 given, by 
 travellers 
 
 fuJ. 
 
 stitation fittest for Persia, after the assassination of Smerdis, 
 the Magian usurper. Herodot. iii. 81, 82. See also Eth. Nich. 
 viii. 10. 
 
CHAP, v.] RHETORIC. 33 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 The Objects at which Orators should aim in exhorting or 
 dissuading. — What Soppiness is ; and whence its con- 
 stituents are deduced. 
 
 Neaklt every one individually, and all men in ge- i. Happi- 
 neral, have some object, at which directing every aim, "^^^ *'"' 
 they both choose and avoid ; and this, to speak sum- %^ll^^ 
 marily, is happiness' and its constituents. Let us 2. 
 then, for the sake of getting at a received standard, 
 ascertain what happiness, generally speaking, is ; and 
 what are its constituents ; for on the subject of it, 
 and what conduces to it, and of its opposites, exhorta- 
 tion or dissuasion is always conversant ; and this, be- 
 cause we needs do the things which procure it or any 
 of its constituents, or which render it greater from 
 having been less, and refrain from doing the things 
 which destroy or impede it, or produce its opposites. 
 
 Let happiness then be defined to be good fortune 3. Four 
 in conjunction with virtue^,— or, independency of life, S"^™"/. j 
 — or, the life which is most pleasant, accompanied by 
 security, — or, abundance of property and slaves, with 
 power to preserve and augment it ; for mankind al- 
 low either one or more of these things to amount 
 nearly to happiness. If then happiness be such as I 4. 
 have described, its constituents must necessarily be — 
 1st, noble birth', many and excellent friends, wealth, 
 a good and numerous offspring, a good old age ; and 
 moreover personal excellencies ; as health, comeli- 
 ness, strength, stature, ability in the games; character; 
 
 ' The end of deliberation is n-a trvfuijiipovTci, of action 
 ivSaifioviic. 
 
 ' The first of these is the opinion of the Socratic school ; the 
 second, of the Stoics ; the third, of the Epicureans ; the last, 
 the popular one. See a similar description, Hooker, t. § 76, 
 p. 413. 
 
 ' Of these, the first enumerated as far as " character" in- 
 clusive, may be considered Smaiin^ : the two next, " honour 
 and good fortune," as -rtVia; the last, namely, "virtue and its 
 constituents," as kiraiviTa, according to the mode of philo- 
 sophic division mentioned in the Ethics, lib. i. c. 12. 
 D 
 
34 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book 
 
 Goods are 
 internal 
 or exter- 
 nal. 
 
 5. Exter- 
 nal. 
 
 1st. High 
 birth, 
 i. Na- 
 tional. 
 
 ii. Indi- 
 vidual. 
 
 6. Good 
 offspring. 
 i. Public. 
 
 ii. Pri 
 vate. 
 
 — 2nd, honour, good fortune ; — 3rd, virtue, and it 
 constituents, prudence, courage, justice, temperance 
 Thus furnished, one would be most independent, wer 
 both external and internal goods his own ; for beside 
 these there are no others. But the internal good 
 are mental and personal ; the external, noble birtb 
 friends, wealth, and distinction. We deem, moreover 
 that power and good fortune ought to be present, fo 
 thus would life be most independent. Wherefore 
 let us ascertain what each of these advantages is.— 
 Noble birth then is, in the case of a nation or state 
 their being aborigines*, or at least ancient possessors 
 and for their first leaders to have been illustrious, an( 
 indeed for many to have been born from among then 
 illustrious on the score of things which men emulate 
 Considered in reference to individuals, noble birth i 
 derivable from male or female ancestry, and legiti 
 macy on both sides ; and, just as in the case of a state 
 to have had the first of their line well known on thi 
 score of virtue, wealth, or any other valued quality 
 and for many of their kindred to have been illustri 
 ous, as well men as women, as well young as old :— 
 we cannot be at a loss for the constituents of a goo( 
 and numerous progeny. As referred to the common' 
 wealth ; a good offspring will be, youth who are nu 
 merous and accomplished. Accomplished in respec 
 to personal excellence, as stature, comeliness, strength 
 ability in the games : and as to that of the mind 
 temperance and courage ; these all, in their two di- 
 visions, are excellencies of the young. In referencf 
 to individuals, a good and numerous offspring con- 
 sists in your own children being numerous, and they 
 as well male as female, such as I have described 
 The excellence of females in regard to person, ii 
 beauty and stature ; in regard to the mind, temper- 
 ance and fondness for employment, without meanness 
 — and we ought, as well individually as collectively 
 
 ■* It was the boast of the Athenians that they were auTo'xflo 
 KEs; and in reference to this Cicero says of their state, " Qua 
 vetustate ea est, ut ipsa ex sese sues cives genuisse dioatur." 
 Orat. pro L. Flacco. 
 
CHAP, v.] RHETORIC. 35 
 
 in respect both to men and women, to see that each 
 of these qualities exists. Since all states among 
 whom the regulations regarding women are bad (as 
 is the case among the Lacedemonians), enjoy scarcely 
 the half of happiness. 
 
 The constituents of wealth are, plenty of money, 7. Wealth 
 the being master of lands and seats, with the posses- ™^^* ^^> 
 sion moreover of personal property of Uve stock and 
 slaves, such as are remarkable for number, stature, 
 and comeliness ; and all these should be secure, and 
 respectable, and useful. The useful are of that de- i. ii7<pa- 
 scription rather which are profitable ; the respectable, ^''•,, 
 which conduce to enjoyment. But by profitable I elpia. 
 mean those out of which the rent arises ; by those iii- xp^- 
 conducing to enjoyment, all out of which arises no- "''''''• , 
 thing (that's worth mentioning at least) beyond their 
 mere use. The definition of security is the having 
 possession there, and in such a manner, that the 
 enjoyment of the property is one's own. The essen- 
 tials of a property then exist, when the right of 
 alienating is in one's hands : I understand by aliena- 
 tion either gift or sale. But, in a word, the being 
 rich stands more in enjoyment than in possession ; 
 for the active employment and the use of such means 
 is wealth. 
 
 Goodness of character is the apprehension of man- 8. Good- 
 kind, that you are a worthy person, or in possession 'Vj^^ °^ 
 of something of such a kind that all men aim at it, 
 ' or at least the generality, or the good, or the well- 
 judging. Honour is an evidence of your having a 9. Hon- 
 cbaracter for beneficence ; and those are honoured °^- 
 with justice, and in an eminent degree^, whose bene- 
 ficence has already been exercised : not but that he, 
 too, is honoured who simply has the power to benefit. 
 Beneficence relates either to the safety, and the 
 causes, whatever they are, of the existence of its 
 object, or to his wealth, or to any other goods whose 
 acquisition is not easy, whether it be so generally, 
 or at that place or time. For many meet with honour 
 
 ^ Aristotle's ol EvEpyETrjKOTt? may be found beautifully 
 enamerated in tbe book of Ecclesiasticus, chap. 44. 
 D 2 
 
36 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 in consequence of things apparently trifling ; but then 
 it is the manner or the time [of conferring the benefit] 
 which is the reason. The constituent parts of honour 
 are sacrifices, — monumental inscriptions, in metre or 
 prose, — rewards, — consecrated pieces of ground*, — 
 precedence, — public burial, — statues, — pensions from 
 the state ; those received among barbarians are — 
 prostration, — giving place ^. The presents also usual 
 among each people are, with them, respectively marks 
 of honour ; for a present is at once the gift of pro- 
 perty, and a mark of honour. Wherefore it is that 
 the avaricious are equally desirous of these, as the 
 ambitious ; because they convey to both that which 
 they desire, since at once it is a property, the object 
 which the avaricious desire, and includes honour, the 
 object of the ambitious. 
 10. Inter- The excellencies of the body are health ; and that 
 S*^ in such a degree as for us to be exempt from sick- 
 
 Health, ness, while we have the free exercise of the body. 
 For many are in a state of health, indeed, whom, 
 like Herodicus', no one would feel inclined to con- 
 gratulate on the score of health, by reason of their 
 depriving themselves of most, if not all, the enjoy- 
 ments proper to man. 
 11. Comeliness is different according to the several 
 Beauty, ages. Now the comeliness of a youth, is the having 
 a body useful in enduring toils, whether those of the 
 course, or of personal exertion, himself being plea- 
 sant withal to look upon with a view to delight. On 
 which account those who practise the pentathlum are 
 most comely, inasmuch as they are formed for violent 
 
 ^ Instanced in the compliment paid to the memory of 
 Brasidas at Amphipolis, Thucyd. v. Hooker, t. S 34, p. 133 ; 
 and § 47, p. 179. 
 
 ' Here perhaps we may mention a remarkable compliment 
 paid to fallen valour by tlie civil law ; a father of three sons 
 was entitled to considerable immunities, which continued to 
 him even after their death, if they had fallen in battle : " Hi 
 enim qui pro Republic^ ceciderunt in perpetuum per g'loriam 
 vivere intelliguntur." Instit. lib. ii. tit. xxv. 5 1 Hooker 
 ii. p. 293. 
 
 " Hcrodicus was a physician, B. C. 440. 
 
CHAP, v.] RHETORIC. 37 
 
 exertion, and swiftness as well. But the comeliness 
 of one who has attained life's prime, is a person 
 adapted to the fatigues of war, with an aspect to be 
 looked upon with pleasure tempered by awe. That 
 of the old consists in the body being capable of the 
 fatigues which it needs must undergo, and exempt 
 withal from pain, by reason that it has none of the 
 afflictions by which an old age is disfigured. Strength 12. 
 is the capability of moving another at will : you move Strength. 
 another, of course, either by dragging, or shoving, 
 or lifting, or crushing him ; so that the man who is 
 endowed with strength, is requisitely so for some, 
 if not for aU these purposes. Excellence of stature, 13. sta- 
 is the exceeding the generality in height, substance, tura. 
 and breadth, in such a ratio as not, by reason of that 
 excess, to render one's motions more tardy. Gym- l-t. Gym- 
 nastic excellence .of person is made up of stature, ^^^^ <^^- 
 strength, and speed ; for the swift is also endued 
 with strength : for he who is able to throw out his 
 legs in a particular way, and move them rapidly, 
 and in a forward direction, is fit for running ; but 
 he who can crush and grapple with an adversary, 
 is fit for wrestling ; while he who can send him for- 
 ward by a blow, is the man for boxing : but if any 
 be endued with the two latter qualifications, he is fit 
 for a pancratiast ; while he who has all three may 
 contend in the pentathlum. 
 
 ] A good old age is an old age slow in approach, un- 15. Good 
 (attended by pain ; for neither is it a good old age if °^^ ^S<^- 
 one grows rapidly old ; nor if he does so slowly, in- 
 deed, but painfully : this blessing, however, is of the 
 number both of the excellencies of the body and of 
 fortune. For one who is neither unmolested by sick- 
 ness, nor endued with strength, will not be exempt 
 from sufferings ; and his days will be but few, and 
 those not void of pain : nor without good fortune 
 will he hold out at all. Indeed, independently both 
 of strength and health there is means of long life ; 
 for many, without the excellencies of the body, are 
 long-lived. But accuracy of statement on these sub- 
 jects makes nothing to our present purpose. 
 
38 ARISTOTLE'S [book 
 
 16. In what number and excellence of friends consisi 
 
 Friends, jg not doubtful, it having been distinctly stated, n 
 
 , specting a friend, that he is a friend who exer 
 
 ' himself to do for another whatever he esteems goo 
 
 for him, solely for the other's sake. He to whoi 
 
 ■many are so affected, has numerous friends ; he t 
 
 whom worthy men, has excellent friends. 
 
 17. Good Good fortune is the accession, and actual pos 
 fortune, session, either of all, of most, or the greatest of thos 
 
 goods of which chance is the cause. Now chance i 
 the cause of some things about which there are arl 
 conversant^; of many things, too, unrecognised b 
 art ; for instance, of whatever things nature is 
 cause ; for it is possible that they should happen con 
 trarily to nature : for art is a cause of health ; na 
 ture, of comeliness and stature. In a word, thos 
 goods proceed from chance, about which envy is felt " 
 Chance is also a cause of those goods which baffle a 
 calculation ; when, for instance, one is handsome, th 
 rest of whose brothers are ugly ; or when every on 
 else overlooked a treasure, and he found it ; or if 
 weapon hit one's neighbour and not one's self; ori 
 he alone, who used always to frequent a place, di 
 not come there, while they who came then only wer 
 destroyed ; for all such things appear to be pieces c 
 good luck. 
 
 18. Vir- As to moral excellence, since that topic is mos 
 intimately connected with praise ", we must lay dow 
 distinctions respecting it when we treat of the sub 
 ject of praise. It is then plain at what objects w 
 ought to aim in exhorting, as likely to take place, o 
 
 ' On the affinity of art and chance, see Eth. Nich. vi. 4.— 
 liyyr) Txixnv £<rTEpgE, Kai Tuxr) TEXfriv. Agatho. 
 
 The affinity appears to consist in this, that arts very ofte 
 owe their origin to chance ; as the capital of the Corinthia 
 pillar, for instance, from a basket of acanthus flowers ■ an 
 painting from tracing a shadow on the wall. Compare ala 
 the Poetics, ch. vi. where he deduces poetry from th 
 auTO(rxtSi.dafiaTa or extemporaneous effusions of its nid 
 votaries. 
 
 ■» Cf. ch. X. § 12. 
 
 '^ The subject of Epideictic Rhetoric. 
 
 tue. 
 
CHAP. VI.] RHETORIC. 39 
 
 already in existence ; and what in dissuading, for 
 they are the contraries of these. 
 
 CHAP. YI. 
 
 Of the Good and Expedient treated generally. 
 
 Since the expedient is the object proposed to the de- i. The de- 
 liberative orator, and as all form their conclusions, Uberative 
 not about the end itself, but about the means con- ^g^'e^on'^" 
 ducive to that end ; as moreover these are all things " the 
 which are expedient in reference to human conduct S^™|'' 
 (now every thing expedient is a good), we shall have he must 
 to ascertain certain elementary propositions, on the know the 
 subjects of the good and the expedient in general. "^"m*'- 
 
 Let good, then, be defined to be, 1. Whatever is 2. 
 an object of choice independently, for its own sake ; 
 2. and for the sake of which we choose something 
 else. 3. What every thing aims at', or every thing 
 which has perception, or which has intelligence ; or 
 every thing would aim at, were it possessed of intel- 
 ligence. 4. Whatever intelligence would award to 
 each. 5. Whatever the intelligence conversant with 
 every instance awards to each, that to each indi- 
 vidual is his good. 6. That which being present, one 
 is well disposed and independent. 7. Independency. 
 
 8. Whatever produces or preserves such advantages ^; 
 
 9. and that on which they are consequent. 10. What- 
 ever, too, has a tendency to prevent or destroy their 
 opposites. Now, things are consequent in two ways ; 3. Conse- 
 for either they may be consequent simultaneously or l^^^es 
 subsequently. — Knowledge, for instance, is a conse- ^j^ 
 quent on learning subsequently ; hfe is so on health 
 simultaneously. Again, things are productive in Things 
 
 ' This principle, which he insists on even in his moral trea- 
 tises, is peciiliarly adapted for a test in rhetoric ; -where, if the 
 subject be only reconciled to this standard of previous opinion, 
 the end, persuasion, is forthwith answered. 
 
 2 Hooker, v. § 65, p. 306. 
 
40 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book I. 
 
 are pro- 
 ductive 
 in three 
 ways. 
 
 4. Indis- 
 putable 
 
 three ways^; first, in the way that the being healthy 
 is productive of health, or as food is so of health, 
 or as exercise is, because usually it does produce 
 health. 
 
 These things being laid down, it must be of 
 course that acquisitions of good, and the exemptions 
 from evil, are good ; for on the one is consequent 
 the non-possession of evil simultaneously ; on the 
 other, the possession of good subsequently. 
 
 5. And the acquisition of a greater instead of a less 
 good ; of a less evil instead of a greater ; for this be- 
 comes an acquisition of the one and an exemption 
 from the other, in the ratio of the excess of the 
 
 6. greater above the less. The virtues also must of 
 course be a good, for in reference to them are their 
 possessors well-disposed* ; they are also productive of 
 goods, and bear on moral conduct : respecting each, 
 however, severally what, and of what kind it is, 
 
 7. must be distinctly treated. It must be also that 
 pleasure is a good, for all living things naturally de- 
 sire it. Thus, too, things pleasant and honourable 
 must needs be good ; for the first are productive of 
 pleasure ; while, of things honourable, some are 
 pleasant, and the rest are by themselves objects of 
 
 8. choice on their own account. So that to speak of 
 them severally, it must be that the following things 
 are good. — Happiness ; for it is both an object of 
 choice by itself, and independent, and for the sake of it 
 
 9. we choose many things. Justice, courage, temperance, 
 
 ^ First, continuous ; second, discrete ; third, contingent. 
 
 * We may observe of Aristotle's several enumerations of 
 iiSri, that he usually refers a few instances of earliest occur- 
 rence to the respective definitions or axioms at the outset of 
 the subject, by virtue of which they belong to the class to 
 which he assigns them. Thug, in lie enumeration of good 
 here instituted, he refers to his general canons of good which 
 have just been admitted ; e. g. virtue may be classed among 
 goods, by virtue of def. 5 and 7. It would be useful to pur- 
 sue the comparison, if not through all the instances quoted, at 
 least through the greater part of them ; since it will at once 
 serve the purpose of impressing on the memory his leading ex- 
 amples, and of helping us to a fuller acquaintance with his 
 theory. 
 
CHAP. VI.] RHETORIC. 41 
 
 magnanimity, magnificence, and other habits of that 10 
 sort; for they are excellencies of the soul; — and health 
 and comeliness, and things of that sort, for they are 
 excellencies of the body, and productive of many 
 things ; health, for instance, both of pleasure and of 
 life ; and it seems, on this account, to be the very 
 best possession, because it is the cause of two things, 
 which the generality of men value most, viz. of plea- 
 sure and life : — Wealth ; because it is an excellence of II. 
 possession, and productive of many things. A friend 12. 
 and friendship; for a friend is an object of choice 
 independently, and productive of many advantages. 
 Honour, character ; for they are pleasant, and pro- 13. 
 ductive of much ; and there is usually consequent on 
 them the actual possession of the qualities, on ac- 
 count of which the subject is honoured. Ability, in u. 
 speaking and acting ; for all such powers are produc- 
 tive of good. Again, high genius, memory, readiness 15. 
 in learning, quickness of thought, and all such 
 qualities ; for these faculties are productive of good ; 
 and in the same way all the arts and sciences. And 16. 
 hfe ; for were no other good consequent on it, of itself 
 it is an object of choice. And that which is just, 17. 
 for it is a kind of general advantage. Such, then, 
 are the things which are good, as it were confessedly. 
 
 But in the case of questionable goods, your reason- 18. Dis- 
 ings will be deduced from these formulae, — ^that of potable 
 which the contrary is an evil, is itself a good ; as is fg 
 that of which the contrary is expedient to an enemy : 
 for example, if your being cowards be above all 
 things expedient to your enemies, it is plain, that to 
 the citizens your courage will be above all things 
 beneficial. And, in a word, whatever be the things 20. 
 which the enemy desires and in which they rejoice, 
 the contrary of those things appear beneficial ; and 
 hence was it well said ; — 
 
 " Priam surely would exult," etc. II. «, 1. 255 '. 
 
 ' See Otho's speech to the soldiers on Vitellius's usurpation 
 after the murder of Galba : — Si Vitellio et satellitihus ejus 
 eligendi facultas detur, quem nobis animum, quas mantes 
 imprecentuT ; quid aliud quam seditionem et discordiam opta- 
 bunt ? Tacit. Hist. i. 84. 
 
42 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 And yet this case does not always hold, though it 
 does generally ; for there is no reason why the self- 
 same things should not, at times, he expedient to two 
 hostile parties ; from which comes the saying that 
 , evils bring men together", when the same thing hap- 
 
 21. pens to he injurious to both. That too is a good, 
 which is not in excess'' ; but whatever exceeds what 
 
 22. it ought, is an evil. And that on account of which 
 much toil or expense has been bestowed, for already 
 will it have appeared to be a good ; and we already 
 conceive of every such thing as of an end, and as an 
 end of many efforts ; but the end is a good ; and on 
 this principle rests the force of that appeal, 
 
 " It were in accordance forsooth with Priam's heartiest 
 prayer ;" H- A 1. 176. 
 
 and of this, 
 
 " Base indeed is it to remain so long ;" II. p, 1. 298. 
 and that of the proverb of 
 
 " Breaking the pitcher at the very door." 
 
 Vide Erasmi Adagia II. i. 75. 
 
 23. That too of which many are desirous, and which 
 appears to be disputed for ; because that of which aU 
 are desirous, was laid down to be a good ; the gener- 
 ality, however, have the appearance of being all. 
 
 24. And that which is recommended ; because no one re- 
 commends that which is not good*. And that which 
 your enemies and the bad recommend; for all, as it 
 were, already acknowledge it when even they do 
 who are ill affected ; for solely on account of its being 
 plainly such will these acknowledge it^: and in ex- 
 
 ' So Shakspeare quotes the proverb, " Misery makes a man 
 acquainted with strange bedfellows." 
 ' A good which requires no qualification ; e. g. moral truths. 
 ' ^ To desire evil as evil, and feel pleasure in it as such, is 
 perfectly unnatural. Hence St. Paul, in his Epistle to the 
 Romans, ch. i. ver. 32, sums up the iniquity of the Gentile 
 world in this one word ; that not only did they in person com- 
 mit the enormities, but " had pleasure in them that do them." 
 ' Virgil therefore could not have praised jEneas more than 
 when he makes Diomede say, — 
 
 Stetimus tela aspera contra, 
 
 Contulimusque manus : experto credite, quantus 
 
 In clypeum assurgat, quo turbine torqueat hastam. Mn. 
 
CHAP. VI.] RHETORIC. 43 
 
 actly the same way they are held to be but paltry 
 characters [and with these even their friends find 
 fault, and all good men] with whom their enemy 
 finds no fault : on which very principle the Corin- 
 thians conceived themselves to have been scandalized 
 by Simonides introducing in his verses, 
 
 " Troy finds no fault witli the Corinthians'"." 
 
 And that is a good which any who are practically wise, 25. 
 whether among men or women, have preferred ; in- 
 stanced in !Minerva's choice of Ulysses ; Theseus' of 
 Helen; and the Goddesses' of Paris ^'; and Homer's 
 of Achilles. In a word, all objects of determined 26. 
 choice are good. And men determinately choose to 
 do both the things which have been mentioned, and 
 those which are evil to foes and good to friends ; and 
 those which are possible — these are varied in two 
 ways ; such as may be done, and such as may easily 27. 
 be done ^^. Easy things are such as are done either 
 without pain, or in a short time ; for difficulty is de- 
 fined in reference either to the pain, or length of 
 time. And men choose what is done as they wish ; 
 and they wish what either is in no respect an evil, or 
 in a less degree than it is good. This will occur in the 
 case of unjust action, where the punishment either 
 escapes notice or is trifling : and such actions as are 28. 
 peculiar ; as no one has done ; or which are exti-a- 
 ordinary, for thus is their value greater : and those 
 things which have an adaptation to ourselves ; of 
 which kind are things belonging to us in respect of 
 family, and power. Things too which men consider 
 are wanting to the completion of something else ; for 
 
 "• Glaucus the Lycian, who was of Corinthian descent, as- 
 sisted the Trojans, consequently Simonides meant to praise 
 them ; but from the known bias of this writer to " censure in 
 disguise," (of which another instance may be found, lib. iii. 
 ch. 2,) lie Corinthians might very fairly suspect his purpose. 
 
 " Vid. ii. c. 23, § 12, sub fin. Tripl 'AXi^avSpov, " oi> ai Bzal 
 TrpoEKpLvav." 
 
 '^ Vid. c. xii. § 1, HiT£ di/ XaBttv -Trpd^ai/Tes, fl, fifj Xo6oyT£9, 
 
 M^ SoUVai &lKr]V, K. T. X. 
 
44 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 be tliey ever so trifling '3, they in no less degree de- 
 termine on putting them in execution : and things 
 easily brought about ; for they are possible, inas- 
 much as they are easy : but things easily brought 
 about, are such as every one, or many, or our equals, 
 or our inferiors, have succeeded in. Whatever gra- 
 tifies one's friends, or v^ill be disliked by one's foes. 
 Every thing, too, which they whom we admire de- 
 liberately set about. Things toward which men are 
 well fitted by nature, and about which they have ex- 
 perience ; for they suppose they shall more easily 
 succeed in them. Things too which no bad man 
 does ; for they are the rather commendable. What 
 people happen to be desirous of ; for not only does it 
 appear pleasant, but it is viewed in the more favour- 
 able light''*- And men more particularly ehoose on 
 deliberation the things in reference to which they 
 severally are of a certain disposition ; the ambitious, 
 for instance, if the object be victory ; the avaricious, 
 if it be money ; and other characters in the same way. 
 On questions then of good and of expediency, we 
 must deduce our means of persuading from hence. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 On the subject of the greater Good, and the more expedient 
 Measures. 
 
 1. The Bdt as the advocates of opposite measures, while 
 food*must ^^^^ '** many instances allow both to be expedient, 
 bedis- dispute nevertheless on the question which is the 
 cussed. more so ; we shall have next to speak of greater good, 
 
 2. Defini- and what is in a higher degree expedient. Let ex- 
 tionofthe gess, then, be defined to be, as much and yet more; 
 thrS^ tlie thing exceeded, however, to be that comprised 
 
 excess 
 the ex 
 Deeded. 
 
 " So Horace O ! si angulus ille 
 
 Proximus accedat, qui nunc denormat agellum ! 
 
 '* If seen through the deceitful medium of desire. 
 
CHAP. Til.] RHETORIC. 45 
 
 within the excess. Again, greater and more^ are 
 terms relative always to some particular less thing : ^ 
 but great or small, muck or little, have reference to 
 the size of things generally. And that which is great 
 exceeds ; but that which is deficient is small ; and of 
 the terms much and little in the like manner. 
 
 Now as we call that good, which, independently, 3. Differ- 
 for its own ^ake, and not on account of any thing else, ™! ""^f"' 
 is an object of choice ; that, too, which every thing tSeVeat- 
 desires ; and which, if invested with intelligence and er good. 
 practical wisdom, every thing would choose ; as also 
 what is preservative or productive of, or on which 
 such things are consequent ; and as that, with a view 
 to which we act, is the end ; and as an end is that 
 for whose sake every thing else is done : but that is 
 good to a man's self which has these affections in re- 
 ference to himself: this being the case, it must be 
 that plurality is a greater good than one or a few, 
 provided that one or those few be enumerated in con- 
 junction with it^; for it then exceeds them, and the 
 within comprised one or few is exceeded. And if the 4. 
 greatest individual of one species exceed the great- 
 est individual of another, then also will the first spe- 
 cies itself exceed the second.^ And, vice versa, 
 wherever one species exceeds another, the greatest 
 
 ^ Greater^ in reference to quantity continuous, or magnitude ; 
 more, in reference to quantity discrete, or multitude. 
 
 ' The meaning of this passage appears to he this, — that 
 ■while all terms designating quantity are relatiye, the gram- 
 matical degrees of comparison imply relation to certain objects 
 then more immediately before us. Those who are puzzled by 
 this doctrine of excess and defect, had better take Victorius's 
 hint, and illustrate each remark by an example from numbers. 
 
 ' This qualification is absolutely necessary to the truth of 
 the position; for it may happen, if the plurality be not of 
 things of the same species as the less number, that the less 
 number is of higher value than the greater. Five guineas are 
 " a greater good " than two, i. e. the greater number than the 
 less, of things of the same species ; yet it does not therefore 
 follow that five farthings are better than two guineas, for there 
 the less number is not, as in the first casb it was, virtually enu- 
 merated in the greater. Compare Ethics, lib. i. c. vii. § 8. 
 
 * Or, as Lord Bacon expresses it, " That kind is altogether 
 best, whose excellence or pre-eminence is best." 
 
46 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 individual of the exceeding, exceeds the greatest in- 
 ' dividuals of the exceeded species : for example, if the 
 greatest man be greater than the greatest woman, 
 then will also jnen, in general, be greater than women ; 
 and if men generally be greater than women, then 
 will also the greatest man be greater than the great- 
 est woman ; for the excesses of species, and of the 
 greatest individuals under them, have a common ra- 
 
 5. tio.^ When one thing is a consequence of another, 
 but that other thing is not a consequence of it ; (now, 
 things are consequent, recollect, either simultaneously 
 or subsequently, or virtually ;) then is that of which 
 the other is a consequence the greater good; because 
 the enjoyment of the consequent is inherent in the 
 enjoyment of the other. Things are consequent si- 
 multaneously, as life on health ; but it is not conse- 
 quent on life : and subsequently, as knowledge on 
 learning ; virtually, as larceny on sacrilege ; for the 
 man who has committed sacrilege would be ready also 
 
 6. to steal. Things which exceed the same thing in a 
 greater degree [than itself], are greater^; for of ne- 
 
 7. cessity they exceed even the greater. Things produc- 
 tive of a greater good are greater, for this would be 
 by virtue of their being productive of something 
 greater. That, too, the productive cause of which Is 
 greater, is likewise greater ; for if that which is 
 healthy, be preferable to, and a greater good than, 
 that which is pleasant ; then also will health be su- 
 
 8. perior to pleasure. As also that which, independently 
 of any thing, is preferable, is superior to that which 
 is not preferable independently : thus strength is 
 above things conducing to health ; for the latter are 
 not sought on their own account, while the former is, 
 
 8. the which was assumed as a criterion of good. And 
 should one object be an end, the other not an end ; 
 
 ' As is the excess of the male above the female sex, so is 
 the excess of the greatest man above the greatest woman ; and. 
 conversely, as is the excess of the gi-eatest man above the great- 
 est woman, so is the excess of the male above the female sex. 
 
 ° E. g. Eight exceeds two by six, which is also gi-eater than 
 the original number two. 
 
CHAP. VII.] RHETORIC. 47 
 
 for the one is for the sake of something else, the other, 
 for its own sake ; thus is exercise inferior to a good 
 habit of body'. That too is a greater good which in lo. 
 a less degree stands in need of any one or more things 
 as accessions, for it is in a higher degree independent : 
 now that is said less to need accessions, which needs 
 such as either are fewer or more easily obtained. 
 And whenever one thing does not exist, nor can pos- H- 
 sibly be brought into existence independently of ano- 
 ther, but that other can without it ; then that which 
 needs not the accession, is more independent, and thus 
 shows itself to be a greater good. Again, if one be 12. 
 a principle and the other not ; and for the same rea- 
 son, if one be a cause, the other not ; since without a 
 cause or principle, existence or production is impos- 
 sible*. And of goods both proceeding from princi- 
 ples, that is the greater good which arises from the 
 higher principle ; as also that is the greater good which 
 originates in the higher of two causes. And, vice 
 versa, that of two principles which is the principle of 
 the greater good, is greater ; and that of two causes 
 which is the cause of the greater, is itself greater. 
 It is evident then from what has been said, that it is 13. The 
 possible for a thing to appear the greater both ways ; ^^'^ "''" 
 for supposing this to be a principle, and the other bTmade 
 not, it wiU appear the greater' ; as also will it, sup- to appear 
 posing it not to be a principle'" while the other is ; ^^^„^^l' 
 
 difierent 
 
 ' Man's "will liath two several kinds of operation, tte one ways, 
 natural or necessary, whereby it desireth simply whatsoever is 
 good in itself, and shuimeth as generally all things which hnit ; 
 the other deliberate, when we therefore embrace things as 
 good, because the eye of understanding judgeth tliem good to 
 that end which we simply desire. Thus in itself we desire 
 health, physic only for health's sake ; and in this sort special 
 reason oftentimes causeth the will by choice to prefer one thing 
 before another, etc. Hooker, v. § 48, p. 186. 
 
 ^ ^PX'J is the beginning of a tiling, alTiov the cause ; the 
 latter consequently is prior to the former. In a plant, the seed 
 is the ipx^j tlie vegetative power the ai-nou. 
 
 ' By the rule which states the principle to be superior to 
 that which is not so. 
 
 '" That is, supposing it to be an end ; for, by a former rule, 
 
48 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 because the end, and not the principle, was above 
 stated to be the greater. Just like the saying of Le- 
 odamus in impeaching Callistratus, " that the man 
 who devised the deed was worse than he who exe- 
 cuted it ; for had he not devised it, the other could 
 not have executed it:" and conversely, against Cha- 
 brias, he argued that " the agent was worse than the 
 deviser ; for had there not been an agent, it would 
 not have been realized in action, because people de- 
 vised plots on this very account, that others may 
 
 14. execute them." The more rare good is greater than 
 the abundant" ; thus gold is better than steel, not- 
 withstanding that it is less useful ; for the acquisition, 
 by reason of its being more difficult, is greater. And 
 in another view, the abundant is better than the rare, 
 for the enjoyment of it exceeds that of the other j 
 for the idea of often exceeds that of seldom,; whence 
 
 15. it is said, " "Water '^ is the best of things :" and, in a 
 word, the more difficult is superior to the easier ac- 
 quisition, for it is more rare. In another point of 
 view, the easier is above the more difficult ; for it has 
 
 16. itself as we wish. That also is the greater good, the 
 contrary of which is the greater evil ; as is also that 
 of which the deprivation is the greater loss. Virtue, 
 too, is greater than what is not positive virtue, and 
 vice than what is not positive vice ; for the former 
 
 17. severally are ends, the latter are not ends. Causes^ 
 the productions of which are more becoming or more 
 disgraceful, are themselves of greater importance. 
 
 ends are superior to means : thus, by one rule tlie superiority 
 is assigned to ends, and by anoiier to principles. So that, 
 whichever side you take, you ■will have something to allege. 
 
 " On this principle Aristotle argues in his Poetics for the 
 superiority of the fable above the other five constituents of the 
 drama, inferring its superior worth from its superior difficulty 
 and rarity. " Qubb rara, cara.'* 
 
 " Perrault, the French critic, misled possibly by this very 
 passage, impotently ridiculed Pindar for the triteness of this 
 idea: being ignorant that the poet alluded to the philosophy of 
 Thales, who Isorrowed and taught the Phoenician doctrine, 
 that water was the principle of all things. Vide Wharton on 
 Pope, vol. i. p. 132. 
 
CHAP. VII.] RHETORIC. 49 
 
 Also of whatever things the excellencies and defici- 
 encies are of greater importance, of them are also 
 the productions of greater importance : since results 
 stand to each other in the same ratio, as their several 
 causes and principles ; and, vice versa, causes and 
 principles, in the ratio of their several results. Things, 18 
 the excess of vsrhich is preferable or more becoming, 
 as accuracy of sight is preferable to that of smelling, 
 for sight is preferable to smelling ; and the being 
 greatly attached to friends is more becoming than to 
 be greatly attached to money'', so that attachment 
 to fnends is more becoming than fondness for money. 
 And conversely, too, the excesses of better feelings are 
 themselves better ; and of the more becoming, them- 
 selves, more becoming : as, too, are those things of 19. 
 which the desires are better or more becoming ; for 
 the greater desire is of the greater object: and, for 
 the same reason, the desires which fasten on the more 
 excellent and becoming objects, are themselves more 
 excellent and becoming. Again, where the sciences 20. 
 are more grave or becoming, there the subject-matter 
 also is more grave and becoming ; for, as is the science, 
 so is its truth ; for each science takes cognisance of its 
 peculiar truths : and analogous to this precedence of 
 subjects is that also of the sciences, which recognise 
 graver and more becoming subjects, above the rest ; 
 for the same reasons. And that which men of practi- 21. 
 cal wisdom, or every person, or the generality, or the 
 majority, or the best of men have, or would have 
 pronounced to be a greater good ; that of course 
 must be such, either absolutely, or so far at least as 
 they decided conformably to their prudence. This, 
 too, is a test available in common to the other ques- 
 tions about good ; for their substance, quantity, and 
 qualify, have themselves so as science and prudence 
 may direct ; on this subject however we have treated. 
 For that has been defined to be good which every 
 
 " To tptXtTaipov tlvai Kal to (ptKoxp'^fJ^f^Tov ; i. e. the being 
 affected by these several feelings to such a degree, that they 
 become a leading feature of the character ; in which case, 
 there is an uirepoxi, as it were, of the feelings. 
 E 
 
30 ARISTOTLE'S [boo 
 
 being, if fraught with prudence", would choc 
 wherefore it is evident, that what prudence pronoui 
 
 22. good in a high degree is a greater good. Also 1 
 which belongs to the better men, either absolutely 
 in respect of their being better ; as courage is be 
 than strength. Also what the better man wc 
 make the object of his choice, either absolutely o: 
 respect of its being better ; as, the suiFering rat 
 than the doing an injury, for this would he chc 
 
 23. who is more just. And that which conduces men 
 pleasure rather that what conduces less ; beca 
 every being pursues j)leasure, and is desirous of 
 joying it for its own sake ; now it is in referenci 
 this, that the good and the end have been defin 
 that is said to conduce more to pleasure, whicl 
 conducive to it with less alloy of pain, and fo 
 
 24. greater length of time. That which is more bec( 
 ing rather than what is less so ; for the becoming 
 ther is that which tends to please, or is desirable 
 
 25. its own account. Whatever things people pn 
 being the causes of to themselves or to their frier 
 those are greater goods ; but whatever they wo 
 
 26. least wish, are greater evils. Things whose dural 
 is long, rather than those whose duration is she 
 and those which are more secure, rather than th 
 which are less so : for there is an advantage in tl 
 enjoyment ; of the former, in respect to time ; of 
 latter, from their being at will : for the enjoym 
 of what is secure is more in their power whene 
 
 27. they wish. And as are the terms arising from c 
 jugates and similar inflections, so are the qualii 
 they denote ; for example, if courageously be an i 
 more noble and desirable than temperately, cour> 
 will also be something more noble than temperar 
 and the idea of a man's being courageous than of 
 
 28. being temperate. What every one chooses is bel 
 than what some do not, as also is the choice of a t 
 jority better than that of a minority ; for as that i 
 supposed a good which all desire, so that is prop 
 
 '•* Whence it follows that prudence is competent to de( 
 on the nature of good. 
 
CHAP, vn.] RHETORIC. 51 
 
 tionately greater which is more desired. That, too, 
 which htigants or foes, judges, or arbitrators selected 
 by judges, prefer, is better ; for in one case the deci- 
 sion is equivalent to that of all mankind ; and in the 
 other, men of authority and information actually do 
 pronounce. And sometimes good is greater in which 29. 
 all participate ; for not to participate in it is a dis- 
 grace : while at others, that is which none, or which 
 few share with you ; for it is more rare. Things 30. 
 more commended, because more becoming ; • and in 
 the same way things are better to which belongs the 
 greater honour, because honour is as a kind of esti- 
 mate of worth. Those things again are more hein- 
 ous on which are imposed the greater punishments. 
 Again, what is greater than things confessedly or ap- 31. 
 parently great, is itself superior in greatness. And 
 the same objects, when separated into their several 
 constituents, have an air of superior greatness, for 
 the excess of a plurality of objects is conspicuous. 
 Whence the poet says that Meleager's wife persuaded 
 him to rise up to the war by entering into detail : — 
 
 " She paints the horrors of a conquer'd town, 
 
 The heroes slain, the palaces o'erthrown, 
 
 The matrons ravish' d, the -whole race enslaved"." 
 
 IHad ix. 705. 
 
 Again, the condensing and accumulating of circum- 
 stances in the way Epicharmus used to do, is produc- 
 tive of effect, and that on the same principle as their 
 separation ; viz. because the condensing of them 
 evinces great excess, and for the further reason, that 
 it appears a principle and a cause of great results. 
 But as that is greater which is more rare and difficult, 32. 
 circumstances both of opportunity, and age, and 
 place, and time, and strength, produce great effect. 
 
 "^ Another striking instance of the effect produced by a de- 
 tail of circumstances may be found in the Septem contra 
 Thebas of jEschylus, 302, ed. Bl.— 
 
 oiKTpov yap nroKiv wS* 
 diyvyltLv aiot irpoLa^Jfai, k. t. X. 
 and in Burke's speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts, Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 480 : see also Sheridan's celebrated speech against 
 Warren Hastings. 
 
 E 2 
 
52 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 For an exploit beyond one's strength, and age, and 
 equals, if achieved, or if under such circumstances, 
 at such a place or time, will gain importance whether 
 it be good, or honourable, or just, or the opposite. 
 Whence originated the inscription of the Olympic 
 victor, "Formerly, indeed, with a rough basket^'' on 
 my shoulders, I used to carry fish from Argos to 
 Tegea.'" [Simonides.] And on this proceeds that 
 encomium of Iphicrates [who was the son of a shoe- 
 maker] -on himself, when he said, "From what begin- 
 
 33. nings have these things been realized ! " That, too, 
 which is innate is superior to what is adscititious, 
 from its greater difficulty ; wherefore the poet says, 
 
 34. " Of myself am I taught '''." And the greatest part 
 of what is great ; as Pericles said in his fvineral ora- 
 tion '^, " That the youth were swept from the city, 
 just as the spring, were it to be withdrawn from the 
 
 35. year." That, too, is more precious which is available 
 in the greater need ; as in old age, or sickness, for 
 instance. And of two means, that more immediately 
 conducing to the end. That whose qualities have 
 direct reference to one's self, than those which are 
 general. What is possible, rather than what is im- 
 possible ; for the one attaches to one's self, the other 
 not. And things which are comprised in the end'' 
 of life ; for things conducing to the end partake in a 
 
 36. greater degree of the nature of ends. Things having 
 reference to truth rather than to opinion : — as a de- 
 finition of matter of opinion we may take what one, 
 likely to escape observation, would not choose to do : 
 and on this principle the receiving good would appear 
 more desirable than the doing it ; since one would 
 
 1' aaiXXa is properly the yoke which -was laid across the 
 shoulder, from which the basket hung. 
 
 " Horn. Odyss. xxii. 347. 
 
 "' Whether we suppose the sTriTdcfiiov to have been lost, or 
 feel inclined to charge Aristotle with a lapsus memoria, so it 
 is that the words are not attributed to Pericles in any work 
 which has come down to us. The same illustration was used 
 by Gelon, tyrant of Syracuse, to the deputies from the states of 
 Greece, who implored his assistance. Herodotus, vii. 162. 
 
 " TtX-ot, the end or object of life : siiSa.ijj.ouia scilicet. 
 
CHAP. VII.] RHETORIC. 53 
 
 choose the first even should it be unobserved ; with 
 respect however to the doing good, that it seems no 
 one about to be unnoticed would choose^". Those 37. 
 things, too, are better, of which men prefer the real 
 possession to the appearance ; for they have a nearer 
 reference to truth : on which principle some argue 
 that justice is a trifling good, because it is better for 
 it to appear, than merely to exist ^i; in respect to 
 health, however, this is not the case. That which 38. 
 is conducive to the greater number of uses ; as what 
 conduces to life, to happy life, to pleasure, and to 
 noble conduct ; wherefore health and wealth appear 
 the highest goods, for these include every thing. 
 That which is accompanied by less pain, and on 39. 
 which pleasure is attendant; for the good is more 
 than merely single, since it is realised both in the 
 positive pleasure, and in the absence of pain. And 
 of two goods, that which, added to the same good, 
 renders the sum greater. That, too, whose presence 40. 
 does not escape us, rather than that which does ^^ ; 
 for such approach reality ; whence the being really 
 rich wiU seem a greater good than the appearance of 
 being so. That, too, which is held dear, is a greater 41. 
 good : — whether, as in some cases, it be single ; or, as 
 in others, accompanied by more : on which account 
 the punishment is not equal, in the case of putting 
 out the eye of a person who has but one^', and of 
 
 * A stri]angly ostentatious principle of benevolence this : 
 but it is one which an exact observance of human nature, even 
 now that it has met the rebuke of Divine wisdom, will perhaps 
 too fully justify Aristotle in laying do-wn. 
 
 -' According to the argument of the sophist Thrasymachus. 
 Plato. Rep. lib. i. 
 
 " I have thus ventured to imderstand fi/ias with \av6avEt ; 
 for it appears the simplest way of getting over the difficulty 
 which is caused by the illustration, which would appear better 
 adapted to one of the former sISt] than to this. 
 
 2^ Zaleucus established among the Locrians the law of re- 
 taliation, " an eye for an eye." But on one occasion a man 
 with a single eye being threatened with blindness by his enemy, 
 procured a clause to be added, denouncing the loss of both 
 eyes to him who deprived another of his only one. Demosth. 
 Cont. Timocr. p. 744. 
 
54 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book I. 
 
 one who has two eyes ; for there is, in the one case, 
 a deprivation of the dearest object 2''. 
 
 The sources then from which, in exhortation and 
 dissuasion, we must deduce our means of persuading, 
 have nearly been enumerated. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 On Forms of Government; — what and how many they are ,' 
 — and on the end of each. 
 
 1. Rea- The means of greatest and most paramount import- 
 
 th'V^'^^ ance with a view to being able to persuade and give 
 
 liberatiTe advice in a becoming style, is the having made one's 
 
 orator self master of all the forms of government ; and the 
 
 know CO- liSiVing clearly distinguished their several practices, 
 
 Tern- and legal principles, and interests : for all men are 
 
 ments. persuaded by what is advantageous ; but that which 
 
 is preservative of the constitution, is absolute ex- 
 
 2. pediency '. And further, the dictum of the authori- 
 
 "• tative power of the state, is itself authoritative. 
 
 But the authorities are distinguished according to 
 
 the forms of government under which they exist ; for 
 
 ^' Dr. Parr, qaioting the following passage from the Politics, 
 " Sijo yip kc7TLV a fidXtcTa ttolel KvStadaL tov9 dvdpwTrov^ Kai 
 0i\eiy, TO xE tdiov /cat To ayaTTtjTdy,'* remarks : — ** I suspect 
 that aya-TTTjToy here means more than carum, it may be ren- 
 dered unicum, atque adeo carum. Aristotle, in lib. i. c. 7, 
 Rhetor, says of the eye, destroyed in him who had only one, 
 ctyaTTfjToy a0j/pT]Tat : see Hen. Stephens's Thesaurus; but I 
 should observe, that in the margin of Aristotle, Kai ^ovov are 
 added, perhaps, as explanatory. Upon the word dyairrj-Tov in 
 SS. for fjiovoyivr}, see Suidas and Hesychius in v. and the 
 notes." Spital. Sermon, notes, p. 39. 
 
 * To arw'^oi/ TToXiTz-iav appears with Aristotle to have been 
 equivalent to abstract expediency ; and he therefore cannot be 
 charged with a violation of his own rule against entering into 
 particulars on any subject as peculiar to rhetoric, because 
 every question of expediency will ultimately be viewed in 
 reference to the constitution under which the parties live ; at 
 any rate the question is treated merely in a popular way — 
 5t7]/cpi/3u)Tat yap iu tols TToXtriKOts. 
 
CHAP, vm.] RHETORIC. 55 
 
 as many forms of government as there are, so many 
 are the authorities. 
 
 Now there are four forms of government ; demo- 3. Four 
 cracy, oligarchy, aristocracy, and monarchy. So that *^"™^- 
 the authoritative and judicial functions will be merely 
 one constituent of these, or the whole. Democracy 4. Demo- 
 is a form of government^, in which men apportion '^"'^y- 
 out the magistracies to themselves by lot. But an Oligar- 
 oligarchy, in which those only who, from the valua- "^"^y- 
 tion of property, are entitled. Aristocracy, in which Aristo- 
 those bear magistracy who can conform to the con- '''^'"^y- 
 stitutional plan of education. By such education I 
 mean that established by the law : for those who ad- 
 here to the principles of the law, are the men who, in 
 an aristocracy, hold magistracies ; and it must be 
 that these should appear the best, whence this form 
 ofgovernment took its name. Monarchy is that form Mon- 
 in which, conformably to its name, one man is su- ''^^y- 
 preme ; and, of monarchies, those which are held by 
 conformity to some limitations are kingdoms, but the 
 unlimited ai-e tyrannies'. 
 
 Neither should the ends of the respective forms of 5- Ends 
 government escape us ; for men choose whatever con- goTem- 
 duces to the end. The end then of a democracy, is ment 
 liberty ; of an oligarchy, it is wealth ; of an aristocra- 
 cy, the institutions relating to education and the prin- 
 ciples of the law ; the end of a tyranny, is the protec- 
 tion of the tyrant's person^. It is evident then, if 
 
 ° In the Ethics (lib. viii. t. 10) democracy is not stated as 
 a distinct foim, but merely as a deviation (TrapixfiaiTLs') from 
 timocracy, or -TroXiTEia fi aicd Tt^rifidTonf. 
 
 ^ IlapEKjSaffts jSaciXEtcts fJikv Tvpavt/is' afi<pto yap fMovagxtat. 
 Ibid. 
 
 ■• We find a remarkable proof of this in the account given 
 by Herodotus of the anxiety of the Persians for the personal 
 safety of Xerxes after the battle of Salamis ; — ou/c outui irzpl 
 Tutv vzoyv a-)(d6fjizvoL, ais -Trept aitTw ^ip^y daifiaivouTE.9^ viii. 99, 
 A remarkable expression occurs in Sophocles from which the 
 same inference maybe drawn; CEdipus, asking Creon why 
 the murder of Laius had not been more fully investigated, 
 thus expresses himself : 
 
 KaKoj/ Si Tvoiov ifiToSmv, TTPANNIAOS 
 
 "OvTic TTEtrovcrii, tlpye tovt' i^stSii/ai ; — (Edip. Tyran, 128. 
 
56 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 men fix their choice by reference to the end, that we 
 must accurately distinguish the respective practices, 
 laws, and interests of each form. 
 6. The But as means of persuasion originate not in argu- 
 
 speaker mentative oratory alone, but in such also as bears an 
 k^ow impress of character ; for it is from the speaker's ap- 
 these con- pearing a man of certain character that we trust him ; 
 stitution- ^}j^^ jg ^Q gg^y-^ jf jjg appears an honest man, or well 
 in order affected^, or both : as this is the case, it will be ne- 
 to impress cessary for us to be masters of the character of each -^ 
 
 the hear- f^j.-^ gf government : for the character which is pe- 
 ers witn a ° .111 
 good-will culiar to each, must needs be most available to per- 
 toivards suasion in addressing each. These points, however, 
 win be ascertained by means of the same information ; 
 for the character will manifestly be conformable to 
 the choice ; now the settled choice has reference to 
 the end. 
 7. Thus then have the objects which we ought to aim 
 at in exhorting and dissuading, as probable or actu- 
 ally in existence ; the sources, too, out of which we 
 must draw our means of proof on the subject of the' 
 expedient, and on the subject moreover of the cha- 
 racter and legal principles belonging to the forms of 
 government ; and the means by which, and the 
 manner how, we shall have facilities on such ques- 
 tions : all these points have been discussed, so far as 
 was within the scope of the present occasion. For 
 accuracy of detail on these points has been observed 
 in the Politics. 
 
 Where we may observe, that not simply is the person of the 
 tyrant spoken of, but the very government itself, as though it 
 had ^Uen with him. 
 
 ^ It is required (lib. ii. u. 1) that he be further possessed 
 of </>po'i/>j(ri5. Let it be remembered that these qualities must 
 be evinced by the speech, and not simply be taken for granted 
 from a previous knowledge of the man. See Pearson on the 
 Creed, Art. i. p. 5. 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 57 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 On the mbject of Virtue and Vice, the honourable and dis- 
 graceful ; — Out of what considerations praise and blame 
 are derived. 
 
 Let us next speak of virtue and vice, and of the 1. The 
 honourable and disgraceful ; because these are the Si'I'Jectsof 
 objects of the orator who praises or blames'; and ticoratory 
 because it wiU happen that, in speaking of these discussed. 
 subjects, we shall at the same time throw light on 
 the means by which we may ourselves be conceived 
 to be of a certain turn of character, which was stated 
 to be the second means of effecting belief; since we 
 shall be able, by the application of the same points, 
 to render ourselves or others deserving belief on the 
 score of moral excellence. But as there frequently 2. 
 are instances, as well in sober earnest as without it, 
 of praising not men or gods only, but even inani- 
 mate objects, and any animal whatever, as it may 
 happen ; we must here, in the same way as before, 
 ascertain propositions on these subjects also. Let us 
 then, so far as may serve for a specimen, discuss 
 these subjects. 
 
 That then is honourable, which, while it is an 3. t6 xa- 
 object of choice on its own account, is commendable ^^'' ^"r" 
 also ; or which, being good, is pleasant, simply be- two'irays. 
 cause it is good. But if the honourable be this, 
 virtue must necessarily be honourable ; for, being 
 good, it is commendable. And virtue, as it should 4. Perfect 
 seem, is a faculty tending to provide us with goods ^'^^!"'^ 
 and preserve them to us ; a faculty moreover capable stituent 
 of benefiting in many and important cases ; of bene- parts are 
 fiting, in a word, every object in every respect^. able°^ 
 
 ' As praise is the proper reward of virtue, so are "blame and 
 disgrace proper to lice ; in order that the world may be warned 
 by the example of the one, and excited to emulate that of the 
 other : apt-ra yap tiraLVtofiivr], Mv&pov oiif dt^ETai. 
 
 ' Aristotle never omits an opportunity of inculcating this 
 wholesome lesson, that the practice of virtue conduces to our 
 true interest. Its necessity in bodies politic, as being emi- 
 
58 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 5. The constituent parts of virtue are justice, courage, 
 temperance, magnificence, magnanimity, liberality, 
 
 6. placability, prudence, wisdom ; and it must needs be, 
 that those virtues are the highest which are the 
 most beneficial to others, if at least virtue be (as it 
 was defined) a faculty capable of benefiting on this 
 account, men honour in the greatest degree the just 
 and brave ; for justice and courage are useful to 
 them, the one in war, and the other in peace'. Next 
 is liberality ; for the liberal are profuse, and do not 
 wrangle with people about money, the object which 
 the rest of the world hanker after more than any 
 
 7. thing. Now justice is the virtue by which each has 
 his own, as the law prescribes : injustice, however, 
 is that habit by which some take the property of 
 
 8. others in contravention to law. Courage, that by 
 which men are ready to achieve honourable exploits 
 in the midst of danger, conformably to the direction 
 of and in subservience to law*: cowardice, however, 
 
 9- is its contrary. But temperance is a virtue by 
 which men carry themselves so, in respect to the 
 pleasures of the body, as the law directs ; intemper- 
 
 10. ance, however, is its contrary. But liberality tends 
 to benefit in pecuniary matters ; stinginess is its 
 
 11. contrary. Magnanimity is that virtue which is apt 
 to confer important benefits ; narrowness of soul 
 
 nently to o-oijoi/ t)iu TroXn-si'ai/, is thus stated in anoUier of his 
 ■works : Eo-ti 5' cijQtv iv xoTs iro\iTiKoi^ dwaTov irpa^ai oi/EU 
 Tvu TTOLOU TLva tlvaL, Xcyoi Sk o\ov aTTovSdlov. T6 6k cfjrovdatou 
 EiliaL, iffTL TO Tas ap£Tds e'xfiii'. Magn. Mor. lib. i. C. 1. 
 
 ^ In the Ethics he places liberality first ; — (juXovVTut. trx^Sov 
 /jLaXttTTa oi tXEudipioL Toiv aTr' d^zTri^ ui^tkifiOl yip TOUTO 5s 
 iu Tjf SoVei. Eth. Nich. iv. 1. Courage may be ranked first, 
 because on occasions we may be disqualified from the exercise 
 of other virtues if this be wanting. 
 
 ' Consistently with the doctrine held in the Ethics, he does 
 not admit every sort of daring to the praise of courage. For 
 of some persons, whose daring is at first sight not inconsider- 
 able, it is true, as Juvenal remarks — 
 
 Justa pericli 
 Si ratio est et honesta, timent pavidoque gelantur 
 Pectore, nee tremulis possunt insistere plantis : 
 Fortem animum praestant rebus, quas turpiter audent. 
 
 Sat. vi. 94. 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 59 
 
 is its opposite. Magnificence is the virtue -whicli 12. 
 produces grandeur in expenditures : — again, narrow- 
 ness of soul and meanness are opposed. Prudence 13. 
 however is an intellectual^ virtue, by conforming to 
 which men have the faculty of actually determining 
 on the subjects of the good and evil'', which has 
 been mentioned as entering into happiness. 
 
 Enough has been said on the subject of virtue and U- 
 vice in general, and of their constituent parts, to suit 
 the present^ occasion : respecting the other points, tu kccXA 
 there is no difficulty in discerning what they are ; for ™™i«r- 
 it is plainly necessary both that the productives of 
 virtue should be honourable (because they have re- 
 ference to virtue), and also the fruits of virtue ; of 
 which kind are both the indications and actions of 
 virtue ; but as the indications and all actions or suf- 15. 
 ferings of a good man are honourable, it will neces- 
 sarily follow that all exploits of courage whatever, 
 and all indications of courage, that all conduct, in 
 a word, which has been marked with courage is 
 honourable; and so of things just and conforming 
 to justice, so far at least as actions are concerned : 
 (but as relates to sufferings this is not the case ; 
 for in this single instance of all the virtues, does 
 it occur that what is conformable to, justice is not 
 invariably honourable, but in the case of suffering 
 punishment, that which is justly suffered is in a 
 
 ^ Alluding to the division made in the Ethics of virtues into 
 those of the iTridxitiriTiKov and \6jov ix"" "'("" of the soul ; the 
 former -whereof is the subject of the moral, the latter of the in- 
 telleetual virtues. Vid. Eth. i. 13. 
 
 ^ 'H /x£i/ 0f)owT7(ris "TEpt Ta iroirfT^a opovs aiiTots Tidiitra. 
 Philo, p. 35, Allegor. ed. Par. 
 
 ' Those who have not read the Ethics will he surprised to 
 hear that the virtues which he here despatches in one section, 
 should there occupy a book and a half. This popular discus- 
 sion of them is, as far as it goes, conformable to the more phi- 
 Josophical view taken in the other treatise, except in respect 
 to the criterion which is assigned of the comparative excellence 
 of each virtue, viz. /iiyicrTa^ tlvai ipETris tizs -rois aWois x/"l" 
 o-iyuwTOTois ; and that stated § 23 — oti diroXaiJo-Tiicai aWots 
 liaWov, K. T. X. Such a test, however inadequate to the views 
 of the philosopher, is good enough for the orator, since it is 
 one in which nine-tenths of the worid will acquiesce. 
 
60 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 higher degree disgraceful than what is unjustly*;) 
 
 and so likewise in respect to the other virtues. 
 
 1^- Whatever actions have national distinctions as their 
 
 reward are honourable, or whatever have such dis- 
 
 17. Every tinctions rather than money. Whatever things, among 
 
 from thr tliose which are objects of choice, one does, not for 
 
 selfish. his own sake. And whatever things which ab- 
 
 principle stractedly viewed are good, one has achieved for his 
 
 able™"™' country's sake, overlooking his own interest. Things 
 
 good in their own nature ; things which are good, 
 
 but not to one's self ; every thing of that kind being 
 
 18. chosen on its own account. Whatever things admit 
 of being realized to one when dead, rather than in 
 his life-time ; for that which appertains to one in his 
 life, rather carries the idea of its being for one's self. 
 
 19. Whatever actions are for the sake of others ; for they 
 
 20. are not so much for one's own sake. And as many 
 instances of successful management as occur where, 
 others are concerned, and where one's self is not ; and 
 this particularly respecting benefactors, for it then 
 is just. Benefits, too, are honourable ; for they at- 
 tach not to one's self. And the contraries of aU 
 cases in which men feel a delicacy ; for men are sens- 
 ible of delicacy both in mentioning, or doing, or in- 
 tending any thing disgraceful ; just as Sappho has 
 expressed in verse on the occasion of Alcseus' saying, 
 " I would say something, but delicacy restrains me." 
 " If thou entertainedst a desire of speaking things 
 either good or honourable, and were not thy tongue 
 teeming with the utterance of some evil ; shame had 
 not suffused thine eyes, but thou wouldest have 
 
 21. spoken what was fit." Objects for which men are 
 keenly anxious without being affected by fear^, are 
 honourable ; for men are thus affected respecting 
 
 ' The passage from Trd6i) to a'^iKcos must be considered as a 
 note ; and the words /card -rds aX\as — cio-auT-ws, considered as 
 the conclusion of the sentence preceding it. 
 
 ' Victorias cites an anecdote of Tliemistocles, preserved by 
 Cicero, as illustrative of this remark. " Noctu ambulabat in 
 publico Themistocles, quod so'mnum capere non posset : quse- 
 rentibusque respondebat, Miltiadis tropais se e somno excitari." 
 Tusc. iv. 19. It will be needless to remark, that " noble 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 61 
 
 goods which tend to reputation. Those virtues and 22. 
 their fruits are honourable in a higher degree, which 
 belong to subjects naturally more excellent'"; as, for 
 example, those of a man are higher than those of a 
 woman. And those which are of a nature to be en- 23. 
 joyed by others, rather than by ourselves; the prin- 
 ciple on which the just and justice are honourable. 
 
 Thus, the taking vengeance on a foe rather than 24. Re- 
 the being reconciled ; both because to compensate is y^S" is 
 just, and what is just is honourable"; and further, able. 
 because it belongs to the courageous man never to be 
 worsted. Both victory and national distinction are 25. 
 of the number of things honourable ; for they are 
 desirable, though unattended by lucre, and evince 
 more than ordinary virtue ; and the memorials of 
 one's name ; and what partakes of these respective 
 characters more decidedly, is also more decidedly 
 honourable. Again, things which do not follow one 
 in his life ; and whatever honour is attendant on ; 
 that which presents features of vastness ; that, too, 
 is honourable in a higher degree which belongs to 
 one's self alone, for it is longer remembered. And 26. 
 possessions unattended by profit, for they are more 
 becoming a gentleman '^ ; and whatever is peculiarly 
 esteemed among each people, is honourable. Every Badges 
 badge of what is held commendable in each nation : ^^ hon- 
 at Lacedaemon '', for instance, it is honourable to wear ""''^ ^' 
 
 minds " alone can be sensible of tbis bigli excitement — dyavia. 
 And Thucydides on hearing Herodotus read his History. 
 
 "> The greatness and dignity of all manner of actions is 
 measured by the worthiness of the subject from which they 
 proceed, and of the object whereabout they are conTersant. 
 Hooker, Eccles. Pol. v. § 6, p. 23. 
 
 " This is a striking instance of that species of sophistry by 
 which oiir unenlightened reason reconciles us to the gratifica- 
 tion of our worst passions ; and we should learn from it to 
 glory in that heavenly wisdom which has taught us " to do 
 good to those who hate us, to pray for those who despitefully 
 use us and persecute us." 
 
 12 ''EXzv&ipia, TO. fir) irpO'S CLTToXavtrlv . See cap. T. § 7. 
 
 1^ This idea appears, in ancient times, to have been very 
 prevalent ; a singular instance of its influence is mentioned in 
 .Stobffius : " Hop' 'ly^oi? kav tis a^oarTtpy)Qii SclveIov, v irapa- 
 KaTadnKri% ovk effTt /cpio-ts' aXK* avTov alrLaTai 6 Trtimvaas. 
 
62 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 long hair'*, because it is the badge of a free man, 
 since it is not easy for a man with long hair to do 
 27. any servile work. And the not exercising any vulgar 
 craft ; for it belongs to a gentleman not to live in 
 28. We dependence on another '*. And we must take for 
 ™"d ''"' granted that qualities, akin to real ones, are actually 
 parent''" identified with them, and this with a view as well to 
 good praise as to blame ; for instance, taking the cautious 
 qualities ^^^ ^^ ^^ ^ cold-hearted,' designing fellow ; or a sim- 
 pleton to be a good kind of man ; and the man who 
 29. is dead to feeling, to be of a mild disposition : and 
 in a word, we must make a selection, invariably on 
 the most favourable side, out of the qualities con- 
 comitant on the character of each ; making out the 
 passionate and furious to be men void of all duplicity j 
 and the self-willed to be magnificent and dignified ; 
 and such as are in excess, to be in the virtuous 
 mean ; the rash, for instance, to be brave ; the pro- 
 fuse, liberal'^; for it will both seem to be the case 
 
 6 Sk TEXi/tTou TTijpwtras X^V^ ^^ otpGaXixdv Gavarw X,rifiiovTaL, 
 T(3y Sk fJityLCTTa adiKnaavra, 6 ^(ktiXeus keXeiibl KtlpatrBat) ihs 
 icrxttTijs oOo-r/s TauT?]? dxt/iiaff. PaiT, Spit. Serm. p. 146. 
 
 " The Lacedasmonians used to wear their hair long, in com- 
 memoration of the victory obtained by Othryades and his two 
 comrades over the three Argive champions, for the laud at 
 Thyrea. Herodot. i. 82. Or perhaps, being inconvenient to 
 those engaged in servile occupations, length of hair might b^ 
 considered as a badge of the more noble pursuits of the wearer. 
 Collins has a fine allusion to this practice in the opening of his 
 Ode to Liberty : — 
 
 Who shall awake the Spartan fife, 
 
 And call in solemn sounds to life 
 
 The youths, whose locks divinely spreading^ 
 
 Like vernal hyacinths in sullen hue. 
 At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding^ 
 Applauding Freedom loved of old to view ? 
 
 Among the Franks, the privilege of wearing the hair long was 
 peculiar to the princes and their descendants, the rest of the 
 nation being obliged to shave the hinder part of the head. 
 Gibbon's Decline and Fall, c. xxxv. note 17, and Agathias 
 quoted in Heraldic Anomalies, vol. i. p. 168. 
 
 '^ Aristotle, in his Ethics, makes this remark of the iitya- 
 \6\^v-xpi, observing, ■wpdi uWov /irj Sivacrdai X,^v, aW ft irpos 
 <pi\ov' oovXiKdv ydp. iv. 3, 
 
 '^ Horace recommends an innocent use of this sort of so- 
 phistry among friends, as a preservative of friendship 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 63 
 
 to the nine-tenths of the world, and will afford room 
 for deducing a piece of false reasoning out of the 
 motives of the agent ; for if one rush into danger 
 where there is no necessity, much more should it 
 seem that he will, where it is honourable'^; and if 
 a man be lavish on all who fall in his way, surely he 
 will also be so on his friends ; for to benefit all is an 
 excess of virtue. "We ought to consider also before 30. We 
 whom our panegyric is pronounced ; for, as Socrates ™iist see 
 used to remark, " It is no difficult thing to panegyrise presence 
 Athenians in the presence of Athenians." We must our com- 
 also assert that what is valued by each auditory, is ™™^''- 
 
 . .11 111 in. : I tion IS 
 
 to be essentially valuable ; what, for instance, either held. 
 Scythians or Lacedsemonians or philosophers value : 
 and, in short, to refer to the class of things really 
 honourable, whatever is held in esteem; since by 
 virtue of their being so esteemed, they appear to 
 approximate closely that class. Again, whatever is 31. 
 natural under such circumstances, for instance, if 
 one's actions be worthy of his ancestors or his own 
 former achievements ; since the additional acquisition 
 of glory tends to happiness, and is honourable. Like- 
 wise every action contrary to what is natural to one, 
 so it be on one side of what is better and honourable ; 
 as when one in good fortune has been moderate, or 
 magnanimous in adversity ; or has become better and 
 easier to be won over in proportion as he became 
 greater. Of this nature was the appeal of Iphicrates, 
 " From what beginnings to what have I attained ! " 
 And that of the Olympic conqueror, " Formerly 
 bearing on my shoulders a rough basket," etc. And 
 that of the epitaph by Simonides, " Though daughter, 
 wife, and sister of tyrants '*," etc. 
 
 Vellem in amioitia sic erraremus, et isti 
 Enori virtus nomen posuisset honestum, etc. 
 
 Opinor 
 Haec res et iungit, junctos et servat amices. 
 
 Sat. i. 3, 41. 
 " That is, under the direction of the law, ws 6 vofxo^ kiXiuei, 
 teal UTTjjpETircos xw vo^w. 5 7. 
 
 " The epitaph was on Archedice, daughter of Hippias, and 
 wife of Oantides, tyrant of Lampsacus. See Thucyd. vi. 59. 
 
64 ARISTOTLE'S Ibook I. 
 
 32. AVe But as commendation arises out of moral conduct, 
 
 '^^ and it is a peculiar characteristic of the good man to 
 thepeisoix act on principle '^, we must endeavour to put the ob- 
 praised. ject of our commendation in the light of one who has 
 lists acted g^gj-g^ q^ principle. Now his appearing to have acted 
 ciple. SO in many instances will be serviceable with a view 
 to this ; wherefore coincidences and fortuitous oc- 
 currences must be assumed as done on principle : and 
 should many and like circumstances be alleged, it will 
 
 33. appear to be a sign of virtue and principle. Now 
 d^ft'"'d commendation is language exhibiting greatness in the 
 
 case of virtue ; we should therefore give this further 
 proof of the actions of him we commend, that they 
 are of this character. Encomium 2", however, is of ac- 
 tions ; (and circumstances concur to the enforcing 
 persuasion, as excellence of birth and education ; for 
 it is probable that a person so brought up, wiU be of 
 such a character ;) and hence we pass encomia on 
 those who have acted. And a man's actions are 
 signs of his habit ; since we commend even the man 
 who has not acted, if we believe him to be of such a 
 
 34. character. But felicitation (fjaKapitTfiag), and con- 
 gratulation {£vSaLfj.oviafide), are synonymous the one 
 to the other ; but are not so to the other two : but 
 fehcitation comprehends them, just as happiness com- 
 prehends virtue. 
 
 35. Com- Demonstrative and deliberative oratory have one 
 ofepideS- P'^i'** ^" Common ; for whatever you would suggest to 
 tic and de- a man in giving advice, that, by a change of the dic- 
 liberative tion, becomes an encomium^'. When, therefore, we 
 
 oratory. 
 
 ^^ See Ethics, lib. ii. u. 4. ALKaiojs Jj a-ui(pp6va}i irpaTTtTai 
 sav o irpttTTuiv TrtSff e)(wv TrpaTTri' irpu>Tou /j.kv iav £i£(^s, £7r£(T 
 sav 'TTpoaipoup.svoi, Kal TrpoaLpovfiEvos (5t' auTct, to 6k TpiTov /cat 
 idit I^E^aLws Kai d/AETaKty/jTws EX"jyTrpaTT77' and, in fact, unless 
 the Ka\a be done under some restriction of principle, mode, 
 and propriety, they lose their character, as Zonaras has, on 
 another occasion, observed: "Oxi ov KoKdv othv /ifi koXw^ yi- 
 vnTui : in Can. Apost. 66, quoted in Hooker, at the end of book i. 
 
 *• On the subject of iyKdifniov and eiraii/os, see Eth, Nich. i. 
 12, where he is inquiring whether commendation or praise be 
 more appropriate to happiness : — 6 /xiu tTratyos t^s apsT^s, 
 'jrpaKTLKol yap Twy /caXtoi/ dird xayTi^s" T(i dk lyKUiiiia tmi/ Ifl" 
 yoju, ouoimi Kal Turn crwixaTLKOJii, Kal twv \J/vxi-KiJot/. 
 
 " Laudes nonnuUse a voluntate bona cum i-evereutia con- 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 65 
 
 know what a man ought to do, and what kind of per- 36, 
 son he should be, it is necessary, if we would state 
 this in the form of advice, to transpose and change 
 the sentiment in its diction : for instance, suppose we 
 are aware that we are not to think highly of goods 
 obtained by chance, but of those obtained by our own 
 means. Thus expressed the sentiment has the force 
 of a suggestion ; but thus, of commendation, " think- 
 ing highly, not of goods which were his by chance, 
 but those obtained by his own means." So that, 
 when you wish to commend, see what you would 
 suggest in advising ; and when to advise, see what 
 you would commend. But the diction will of neces- 37. 
 sity be reversed, when there has been submitted to 
 change an idea which in one form is prohibitive, in 
 another is not prohibitive. 
 
 We must avail ourselves also of amplification in 38. Am- 
 many cases : thus, if a man has done a thing alone, P'i*j<^'iti™ 
 or first, or with few to share it, or even if it be a used ; 
 thing which he has done more than any other ; these 
 all are circumstances of honour. The topic also 
 which is deducible from times and seasons ; these are 
 circumstances contrary to what is natural. Also if 
 a man has often succeeded in the same thing ; for this 
 is a feature of greatness, and originates not in chance, 
 but will appear to arise through his own means. 
 Also if orations commendatory and exhorting to 
 emulation have been founded and got up on his ac- 
 count ; if also he be one on whom an encomium was 
 first passed, as it was on Hippolochus ; and the hav- 
 ing a statue set up in the forum first occui'red to 
 Harmodius and Aristogiton : and in the same way 
 we use amplification with opposite views ; and should 
 you not abound in topics bearing on your subject 
 himself, you should set him in comparison with 
 others ; which Isocrates used to do from his familiar- 
 ity with judicial pleading. You should compare the andeom- 
 
 juncta proficiscuntur, qu£e sane laudum formula Principibus et 
 Viris quibuscunque dignioribus debetur : Laudando prtscipere : 
 cum scilicet apud illos prsedicando quales sint, humiliter mo- 
 neas quales esse debeant. Bacon's Essays, De Laude. 
 P 
 
66 
 
 AEISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book I. 
 
 parison of 
 character. 
 
 39. Am- 
 plification 
 suits epi- 
 deictic 
 oratory. 
 
 40. 
 
 Example 
 suits de- 
 liberative, 
 euthy- 
 mem ju- 
 dicial ora- 
 tory. 
 
 41. 
 
 person of whom you speak, with men of character ; 
 for it is a feature of amplification, and honourable, 
 if he be better than the good. 
 
 Amplification falls in easily with demonstrative 
 oratory ; for its essence is the being above medi- 
 ocrity. On which account we should make a com- 
 parison with the generality of men, ' if we cannot 
 with men of character ; since the being above the 
 average seems to indicate virtue. In a word, of all 
 the formute common to each branch of rhetoric, am- 
 plification best suits demonstrative ; for the orator 
 takes the actions for granted, and it thus remains 
 only to invest them with greatness and beauty. Ex- 
 ample ^^, however, suits deliberative ; because we 
 there decide, by arguing of the future from what has 
 gone before. Enthymem, however, suits judicial; 
 for by reason of its not being clear, the past most 
 especially leaves room for assignment of reasons and 
 demonstration. 
 
 Nearly all the sources out of which praise and 
 blame are deduced, and on what sort of things we 
 ought to have an eye in praising and blaming, the 
 means too by which encomia and reproaches are pro- 
 duced, are -these : for being possessed of these points. 
 
 ''^ For the general principles upon which Examples influ- 
 ence us, and their peculiar adaptation to deliberative cases, 
 see book ii. chap. 20. Meanwhile let us anticipate our author's 
 discussion of the subject, and quote a few words of a modem 
 writer to show how completely this vehicle of proof is adapted 
 to the purpose of the orator, whose demonstrations should al- 
 ways be as little laboured as possible. — " Our lives in this 
 world are partly guided in rules, and partly directed by ex- 
 amples. To conclude out of general rules and axioms by dis- 
 course of ivit our duties in every particular action, is both 
 troublesome, and many times so full of difficulty, that it maketh 
 deliberations hard and tedious to the wisest men. Whereupon 
 we naturally all incline to observe examples, to mark what 
 others have done before us, and, in favour of our own ease, 
 rather to follow them, than to enter into a new consultation, if 
 in regard of their virtue and wisdom we may but probably 
 think they have waded without error. So that the willingness 
 of men to be led by example of others, both discovereth and 
 helpeth the imbecility of our judgment." Hooker, Ecc. Pol., 
 V. I 65, p. 307. 
 
CHAP. X.] RHETORIC. S7 
 
 their contraries are plain ; for blame is deduced from 
 the opposite sources. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The mimber and nature of the Sources out of which the 
 Orator must construct his reasonings in Accusation and 
 Defence. 
 
 It win be for me next to speak of the number and 1. Judi- 
 nature of the sources out of which the orator must f^ '"'''" 
 construct his reasonings, touching accusation and de- sidered in 
 fence. Now we must ascertain three points ; one, three 
 what and how many are the objects for the sake of ^^l^^xhe 
 which men act unjustly ; the second, how themselves motives, 
 are disposed ; and the third, towards persons of what ": The 
 character and of what disposition they do so act. tionoTthe 
 
 Let us then, after defining the acting unjustly, agents. 
 speak in order of the rest. Let the acting unjustly ■"■ ^he- 
 be defined to be, the voluntary ' commission of hurt injured. 
 in contravention of law. Now law is either general 3. In- 
 or peculiar. The peculiar law I call that,. by whose gjj^^'^'^ 
 written enactments men direct their polity : the Dh-ision 
 general, whatever unwritten rules appear to be recog- °^^^- 
 nised among all men. Men are voluntary agents in ^^j 
 whatever they do wittingly, and without compulsion, ii. Par- 
 Men, therefore, do not every thing on fixed princi- Ocular, 
 pie, which they do wittingly : but whatever they do 
 on fixed principle, that they do wittingly ; because 
 no one is ignorant of that which he chooses on princi- 
 ple. Now, the principles by whose motion men de- 4. Two 
 
 ' Re-wards and punishments do always presuppose some- 
 thing willingly done well or ill ; without which respect, though 
 we may sometimes receiTe good or harm, yet then the one is 
 only a benefit and not a reward, the other simply a hurt and 
 not a punishment. From the sundry dispositions of man's 
 ■mil, which is the roof of all his actions, there groweth rariety 
 Ji the sequel of rewards and punishments, which are by these 
 and the like rules measured : Take away the will, and all acts 
 are equal : That which we do not, and would do, is commonly 
 accepted as done. Hooker, i. § 9, p. 239. 
 F 2 
 
68 ARISTOTLK'S [book i. 
 
 causes of Uberately choose to hurt and do evil in contravention 
 injustice, of i^w, are depravity and moral weakness'^; for if 
 pra-rity. any are depraved either in one or more respects, it is 
 ii. Incon- in reference to that point, on which they ai-e so de- 
 tmence. prayed, that they are guilty of injustice. The ilh- 
 beral man, for instance, on the subject of money; 
 the intemperate, touching the pleasure of the body ; 
 and the eifeminate, respecting objects of ease ; and 
 the coward, respecting danger ; (for it is by reason 
 of fear that men abandon their comrades in danger ;) 
 the ambitious man, on the score of honour ; the hasty 
 man, by reason of anger ; the man eager to excel, on 
 account of victory ; the vindictive, for the sake of 
 revenge ; a silly man, owing to his being mistaken 
 on points of right and wrong ; a man of eiFrontery, 
 from his contempt of character. And in other cha- 
 racters in the same way each [goes wrong] respect- 
 5. ing his own particular weakness. But my meaning 
 on these matters will be evident from what has been 
 already said on the subject of the virtues, and from 
 what hereafter will be stated on the subject of the 
 passions. It merely remains for me to state on what 
 account, how effected, and toward whom, men do 
 commit injustice. 
 6. The First, then, let us distinctly enumerate the objects, 
 
 motives of which desiring, or which avoiding, we set about in- 
 proceeT justice': because it evidently should be considered 
 from by the plaintiff how many, and what sort of those 
 
 things, from a desire of which men wrong their 
 neighbours, have an existence on the side of his ad- 
 versary ; and by the defendant again, what, and 
 
 ' Cf. James, chap. i. 15. 
 
 ^ How complete an insight into the nature of man does this 
 disquisition display ; and how admirable a key is here afforded 
 to all the operations of the human heart! This branch of 
 knowledge has always been insisted on as essential to those 
 employed in Judicial investigations. — Thus, Bolingbroke, 
 speaking of the education of lawyers, says, " They must pry 
 into the secret recesses of the human heart, and become well 
 acquainted with the whole moral world, that they may discover 
 the abstract reason of all laws," etc. Stud, of Hist. p. 353: 
 edit. 4to. 
 
CHAP. X.] RHETORIC. 69 
 
 what number of these things do not so exist. Now 7. the mo- 
 all men do all things either of themselves, or not of tJTesofaU 
 themselves. The things which they do not of them- aS" 
 selves, they do either by chance, or from necessity ; 
 and the things done by necessity, they do either by 
 compulsion, or by nature. So that all things what- 
 soever which men do not of themselves, they do either 
 by chance, or from compulsion, or by nature. Again, 
 the things which they do of themselves, and of which 
 they are themselves the causes, some they do through 
 custom, and others through natural desire ; and this 
 partly through this desire influenced by reason, and 
 in part through if devoid of reason. Now the act of 8. 
 wishing is desire accompanied by reason, fixing on 
 some good as its object ; because no one wishes for 
 any thing other than what he conceives to be a good. 
 The desires devoid of reason, are anger and appetite. 
 So that all things whatever which men do, they ne- These are 
 
 cessarily do from seven causes ; by chance, compul- ^'^"'™ ™ 
 J. ^ -11 ..-i T) i numher: 
 
 sion, nature, custom, will, anger, or appetite. i>ut ;_ chance. 
 
 to carry on distinctions in reference to age, or habits, "• Com- 
 or whatever else enacts itself in conduct, were su- EI^^?"- 
 perfluous. b or, granting that it happens to young tm-e. 
 men to be passionate, it is not by motion of their i^- Cus- 
 youth that they act thus, but by motion of anger and t""^;!! 
 appetite : neither is it by motion either of wealth or -ri. Anger, 
 poverty, simply, but (in the case of the poor) it is on ™- -A^PP**- 
 account of their neediness that it happens that they 9, 
 cherish an appetite for wealth ; and (in the case of 
 the rich) on account of their having the means, that 
 they risk an appetite for unnecessary pleasure ; and 
 these persons will act neither by motion of their 
 wealth nor of their poverty, but by motion of appe- 
 tite. And in exactly the same way, the just and un- 
 just, and all such as are said to act conformably to 
 habits, will in reality act, under aU circumstances, by 
 motion of these principles ; for they on the impulse 
 either of reason or of passion ; but some from good 
 manners and passions, others from the contrary. 
 Still, however, it happens that on habits of this par- 10. 
 ticular character, principles of action the same in 
 
70 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 character are consequent ; and on those of that kind, 
 principles also of that kind. For on the temperate 
 man perhaps forthwith, by motion of his temper- 
 ance, are attendant good opinions and appetites re- 
 specting pleasures ; but on the intemperate, the con- 
 
 11. trary on these same subjects. For which reason we 
 must wave distinctions of such a kind ; but we must 
 consider, on what conditions'", what principles of 
 conduct are wont to follow : for it is not ordained, 
 
 - (in the nature of things,) that, if a man be white or 
 black, or tall or short, principles of this or that kind 
 should be attendant on him ; but if he be young or 
 old, just or unjust, here some difference begins ; and 
 so, in a word, in the case of all contingent circum- 
 stances whatever, which produce a difference in the 
 tempers of men, for instance, a man's seeming to 
 himself to be rich or poor, fortunate or unfortunate ; 
 in all these cases there will be some essential differ- 
 ence. Of this, however, we will speak hereafter ; let 
 
 12. us now treat first of the remaining points. Things 
 i. Chance, proceed from chance which are of such kind that 
 
 their cause is not definite '', and are produced in the ab- 
 sence of any final motive, and that neither invariably, 
 nor usually, nor in any prescribed order. My mean- 
 ing on these subjects wiU be plain from the definition 
 
 13. of chance. All those things exist naturally whose 
 ii. Na- cause is internal and ordinate ; for they turn out, either 
 
 invariably or generally, in the same way ; since there 
 is no need of an accurate inquiry on results contrary to 
 nature, whether they be produced conformably to a 
 certain nature, or any other cause. It would appear, 
 
 14. too, that chance is the cause of such results. All 
 
 tur 
 
 iii. Com- 
 pulsion, 
 
 '' He here first informs us that he shall not make his exclu- 
 sion so rigid as he had above stated, but will admit youth and 
 aye, etc. to a particular consideration, as holding an important 
 influence over character, though that influence ought philo- 
 sophically to be referred to one of the seven above-mentioned 
 principles ; wliile every thing else -which people choose to fix 
 upon as a principle of conduct will, on examination, prove to 
 be merely secondary, and to act mediately through one or other 
 of the seven. 
 
 5 Vid. chap. v. { 17. 
 
CHAP. X.] RHETOEIC. 71 
 
 things originate in compulsion, which are produced 
 througli the instrumentality of the agents themselves, 
 contrary to their inclination and reason. In habit 15. 
 originates every thing which men do because they "■ ^abit. 
 have often done it before. From will proceed what- 16. 
 ever of the forementioned goods appear to be useful, ^- ^^■ 
 either as an end or as conducing to the end, when it 
 is by reason of such their usefulness that they are real- 
 ized in action : for even the intemperate do some things 
 which are useful ; but not on account of their useful- 
 ness, but on account of pleasure. Through the medium 17. 
 of anger and excited feeling arise acts of vengeance. ^' •'^"S^'- 
 Now, between revenge and punishment there is a dif- 
 ference ; for punishment is for the sake of the sufferer, 
 but" revenge for that of the person inflicting it, in or- 
 der that he may be satiated^. On what subjects this 
 excitement of feeling exists, will therefore be plain in 
 my treatise of the passions. But all such things as ap- 18. 
 pear pleasant are produced in action on the impulse ™^- -A-PPe- 
 of appetite. But that which is familiar and has be- 
 come habitual, is of the number of things pleasant ; 
 for many things there are, even among such as are 
 not pleasant naturally, which, when men have been 
 habituated to, they do with pleasure. So that, to These 
 speak in one word comprehending the whole, every ™-ot"es 
 thing whatsoever which men do of their own proper compre- 
 motion, either is good, or apparently good ; pleasant, heudecl 
 or apparently pleasant. But as they act voluntarily ''^,°^ 
 in whatever they do of their own motion, and invo- pleasure. 
 luntarily in whatever they do not of their own motion ; 
 all things whatsoever in respect to which they act 
 voluntarily, will be either good or apparently good ; 
 pleasant or apparently pleasant. For I also set down 
 the getting quit either of evils or apparent evils, and 
 the getting a less evil in exchange for a greater, in 
 the class of goods ; because they are in a certain way 
 desirable things. And, among things pleasant, I 
 likewise set down the getting quit of things bringing 
 pain, or appearing to do so; or the getting things 
 
 « Revenge is a kind of wild justice. Bacon's Essays. 
 
72 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 less SO, in exchange for such as are so in greater de- 
 gree. 
 19. What We have therefore to ascertain the number of things 
 objects pleasant' and of what kinds they are. Now on the 
 tilt, ""' subject of what is useful, something has been already 
 therefore, said in my treating of deliberative rhetoric ; but on 
 di^cus^ed *^® subject of what is pleasant let us treat, beginning 
 at this point. As to the definitions, you must deem 
 them to be adequate [to my purpose] if they be found, 
 on each subject, exempt from obscurity, though not 
 accurately precise. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 What things are pleasant. 
 
 1. Imnie- Let it be laid down by us, that pleasure is a certain 
 diate mo- motion of the soul, and a settlement of it, at once 
 injustice r^pid and perceptible, into its own proper nature ; 
 consider- and that pain is the conti-ary. If then pleasure be a 
 ^4;. -^^^" thing of this nature, it is plain that whatever is pro- 
 pleasure, ductive of the disposition I have described, is plea- 
 
 2. Pain is sant ; while every thing of a nature to destroy it, or 
 egrao-i!. produce a disposition the opposite to it, is painful. 
 
 3. A re- Generally speaking, therefore, it is necessary, both 
 Tcrsiou to that the being in progress toward a state conform- 
 nature is ^^g ^^ nature, should be pleasant ; and that, in the 
 
 highest degree, when those feelings, whose original 
 is conformable to it, shall have recovered that their 
 nature ; and habits, because that which is habitual 
 becomes by that time natural, as it were ; for, in a 
 certain way, custom is like nature, because the idea 
 oi frequency is proximate to that of always ; now na- 
 ture belongs to the idea of always, custom to that of 
 
 ' In all judicial questions a knowledge of the constituents of 
 pleasure will be of essential service ; for they all suppose some 
 wrong done, and there is no man doth a wrong for the wrong's 
 sake, but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure 07- 
 honour, or the like. Bacon's Essays. 
 
CHAP. XI.] RHETORIC. 73 
 
 often. What is not compulsory, also, is pleasant ; for 4. All 
 compulsion is contrary to nature. Wherefore acts of freedom 
 necessity are painful ; and it has been truly remark- strSnt "" 
 ed, " Every act of necessity is in its nature painful." 
 It must be also that a state of sedulous attention, 
 anxiety, the having the mind on the stretch, are 
 painful, for they all are acts of necessity, and con- 
 strained, unless they have become habitual ; but it is 
 custom vfhich, under such circumstances, renders 
 them pleasant. The contraries of these must also be 
 pleasant ; wherefore, relaxation of mind, leisure, 
 hstlessness, amusements, and intervals of rest, rank 
 in the class of things pleasant ; for none of these has 
 any thing to do with necessity. Every thing of 5. Appe- 
 which there is an innate appetite, is pleasant ; for *','^' ^™ 
 appetite is a desire of what is pleasant. Now, of ap- 
 petites, some are irrational, others attended by reason. 
 I call aU those irrational, which men desire, not from Irration- 
 any conception which they form : of this kind are all ^• 
 which are said to exist naturally, as those of the 
 body ; thirst or hunger, for instance, in the case of 
 sustenance ; and the appetite of sustenance in every 
 kind. And the appetites connected with objects of 
 taste, and of lust, and, in fact, objects of touch gener- 
 ally ; the appetite of fragrant odours, too, as connect- 
 ed with smelling, and hearing, and sight. Appetites Rational, 
 attended by reason, are all those whatsoever which 
 men exercise from a persuasion : for many things 
 there are which they desire to behold, and possess, 
 on hearsay and persuasion. Now, as the being 6. Hope 
 pleased stands in the perception of a certain affec- andme- 
 tion, and as imagination is a kind of faint perception, SeaLnt^ 
 there will attend on him who exercises either me- 
 mory or hope, a kind of imagination of that which is 
 the object of his memory or hope ; but if so, it is 
 plain that they who exercise memory or hope, cer- 
 tainly feel pleasure, since they have also a perception. 
 So that every thing pleasant consists either in the 7. 
 perception of present objects, or in the remembrance 
 of those which have already been, or in the hope of 
 such as are yet to be ; for men exercise perception 
 
74 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 on present, memory on past, and hope on future ob- 
 
 8. jects. Now the objects of memory are pleasant, not 
 only such as at the moment while present were 
 pleasant, but some even which were not ■ pleasant, 
 should their consequence subsequently be honour- 
 able and good ; and hence this saying, " But it is 
 indeed pleasant for a man, when preserved, to re- 
 member his toils ;" and this, " For after his suffer- 
 ings, a man who has suffered much, and much 
 achieved, is gladdened at the recollection." But the 
 reason of this is, that to be exempt from evil is 
 
 9. pleasant'. And all objects are pleasant in hope, 
 which appear by their presence either to delight or 
 benefit in a great degree ; or to benefit, without 
 giving pain. In a word, whatever objects by their 
 presence delight us, do so, generally speaking, as we 
 hope for, or remember them. On which account, 
 too, the feeling of anger is pleasant ; just as Homer 
 has remarked of anger in his poem, " That which 
 with sweetness far greater than distilling honey as 
 it drops ;" for there is no one who feels anger where 
 the object seems impracticable to his revenge ; nor 
 with those far their superiors in power do men feel 
 anger at all, or if they do, it is in a less degree. 
 
 10. There is also a kind of pleasure consequent on most 
 appetites ; for either in the recollection that they 
 have enjoyed them, or in the hope that they shall 
 enjoy them, men are affected and delighted by a 
 certain pleasure : thus men possessed by fevers feel 
 delight, amid their thirst, as well at the remembrance 
 how they used to drink, as at the hope of drinking 
 
 11. yet again. Lovers, too, feel delight in conversing, 
 writing, and composing something, ever about the 
 object beloved ; because, in all those energies, they 
 have a perception, as it were, of the object they love. 
 
 Criterion And this is in all cases a criterion of the commence- 
 of love. ment of love, when persons feel pleasure not only in 
 the presence of the object, but are enamoured also of 
 12. Sor- it when absent, on memory ; wherefore, even when 
 row. 
 
 ' Suave mari magno, turbantibus sequora ventis, 
 Alterius procul e terra spectare dolorem, etc. Lucretius. 
 
' amuse- 
 ments. 
 
 CHAP. XI.] RHETOBIC. 75 
 
 pain arises at absence, nay in the midst of mourning, 
 and the very dirge of death, there yet arises within 
 us a certain pleasure. For the pain is felt because 
 the object is not present ; but the pleasure consists in 
 remembering and seeing, as it were, both the person, 
 and what he used to do, and the kind of character of 
 which he was. Whence has it been said, and with 
 probability enough, "Thus spake he, and excited 
 within them all a desire of lamentation." Also the 13. Re- 
 avenging one's self is pleasant^; for the getting of that '^'enge. 
 is pleasant, the failing to get which is painful : now 
 the angry do feel pain in an excessive degree if they 
 be not avenged ; but in the hope of revenge they take 
 pleasure. Again, to overcome is pleasant, not to the 14. Vic- 
 ambitious only, but even to all ; for there arises an toT- 
 imagination of superiority, for which all, either in a 
 faint or more violent degree, have an appetite. But IS.Hence, 
 since to overcome is pleasant, it must follow of ' 
 course, that amusements where there is iield for 
 rivalry, as those of music and disputations, are plea- 
 sant ; for it frequently occurs, in the course of these, 
 that we overcome ; also chess, ball, dice, and draughts. 
 Again, it is the same with respect to amusements 
 where a lively interest is taken'; for, of these, some 
 become pleasant as accustomed to them ; others are 
 pleasant at first ; for instance, hunting and every 
 kind of sporting ; for where there is rivalry, there 
 is also victory ; on which principle the disputations 
 of the bar and of the schools are pleasant to those 
 who have become accustomed to them, and have 
 abilities. Also honour and good character are most 16. Hon- 
 pleasant, by reason that an idea arises, that one is °y^ ^"5 
 such as IS the good man ; and this m a greater de- 
 gi'ee should those people pronounce one such, who 
 
 ' See book ii. chap. 2, § 1. 
 
 ^ If this rendering for the word Iffirov^arrfiiuij be not that 
 ■which the Greek might first suggest, yet it is that which seems 
 best to suit the context ; for sporting and hunting do not very 
 well accord with our ideas of grave and serious amusements, 
 though exercised as they were by the Greeks, as mere pre- 
 paratives for the labours of military duty, they might justly 
 deserve serious attention. 
 
76 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 he think speaks truth : such are those immediately 
 about one, rather than those who are more removed ; 
 familiar friends, and acquaintances, and one's fellow 
 citizens, rather than those who are at a distance ; 
 the pi'esent, rather than a future generation ; a man 
 of practical wisdom, rather than a mere ignoramus ; 
 many, than a few ; for it is more likely that these I 
 have mentioned will adhere to the truth, than that 
 the opposite characters will : since one has no anxiety 
 about the honour or the opinions of such as one 
 greatly despises, children and animals for instance, 
 not at least for the sake of such opinion itself ; but 
 if one is anxious about it, then it is on account of 
 17. something else. A friend, too, ranks among things 
 Fnends. pleasant ; for the affection of love is pleasant ; since 
 there is no lover of wine, who does not delight in 
 wine : also the having affection felt toward one is 
 pleasant ; for there is in this case also an idea of one's 
 being an excellent person, which all who have any 
 sensibility to it are desirous of; now the having 
 affection felt for you is the being beloved yourself, 
 
 18. Being on your own account. Also the being held in admir- 
 admireci. g^^^Qj^ jg pleasant, on the very account of being hon- 
 Flattery. oured by it. Flattery and the flatterer are pleasant ; 
 
 since the flatterer is a seeming admirer and a seeming 
 
 19. Ha- friend*. To continue the same course of action is 
 bitual ac- also pleasant ; for what is habitual was laid down to 
 
 20. Va- ^^ pleasant. To vary is also pleasant ; for change is 
 riety. an approach to what is natural : for sameness pro- 
 duces an excess of a stated habit ; whence it has 
 been said, " In every thing change is pleasant'." 
 For on this principle, whatever occurs at intervals 
 of time is pleasant, whether persons or things ; for 
 
 ' It may be interesting to compare the grounds on which 
 Dr. Johnson considered flattery pleasant with these of Aris- 
 totle. The Doctor's words are, " Flattery pleases very gener- 
 ally. In the first place, the flatterer may think what he says 
 to be true ; but, in the second place, whether he thinks so or 
 not, he certainly thinks those whom he flatters of consequence 
 enough to be flattered." Boswell's Life, A. D. 1775, Mt 66, 
 p. 86, Tol. iii. 
 
 » Eurip. Orest. 234. 
 
CHAP. XI.] RHETORIC. 77 
 
 it is a variation of present objects ; and at the same 
 time that which occurs merely at intervals possesses 
 the merit of rarity. Also learning and admiration, ^1. Leam- 
 generaUy speakina;, are pleasant: for under admira- ™p- ?"i- 
 tion exists a desire [to learnj, so that what is admired 
 is desired ; and in the act of learning there is a set- 
 tlement into a state conformable to nature. To benefit 22. To do 
 and to be benefited are also of the number of plea- fece'iTe*° 
 sant things ; for to be benefited, is to get what pec- good. 
 pie desire ; but to benefit, is to possess and abound ; 
 things, the both of which men desire. And because 
 a, tendency to beneficence is pleasant*, it is also plea- 
 sant to a man to set his neighbour on his legs again, 
 and to put a finish to that which was deficient in 
 some particular. But as the acquisition of know- 23. 
 ledge is pleasant, and the feeling admiration, and ^ 
 such things ; that, too, must necessarily be pleasant 
 which has been expressed in imitation, as in painting, Painting 
 sculpture, and poetry: also, every thing is pleasant 5^P" 
 which has been correctly imitated, although the ori- Poetry. 
 ginal object, of which it is the imitation, may not in 
 itself be pleasant ; for one does not feel pleasure on 
 that account ; but there is an inference that " this 
 means that:" and thus it happens that we learn 
 something. Also sudden revolutions', and the being 24. Ee- 
 saved from danger narrowly ; for all these are cases iff '^''s- 
 exciting admiration. Again, since that is pleasant escapes. 
 which is conformable to nature, and things which are 25. Simi- 
 akin are respectively conformable to nature, every ^j^gj.^ 
 thing like and akin, speaking generally, is pleasant ; ty to na- 
 ture and 
 ourselTes. 
 ^ This principle of pleasure has been thus developed by 
 Hooker : " As to love &em of "whom we receive good things 
 is a dnty, because they satisfy our desires in that which else 
 we shoidd want ; so to love them on whom we bestow is nature, 
 because in them we behold the effects of our own virtue." — Ecc. 
 Pol. T. § 63, p. 285. See also what is said towards the end of 
 tbis chapter, of the love borne towards whatever is, in any 
 sense, an tpyov of own — as children, works of genius, etc. 
 
 • 'EoTt hi •Ks.pi-niTe.ia v sh to kvavriov TUiV irpaTTOfitviuv 
 ficra^oXfi, K. T. X. Poet. 21. Twining explains it to be, 
 "when," in a drama, " the things that are doing have an effect 
 the very reverse of which is expected irom them." ii. 77. 
 
78 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 as man to man, horse to horse, and youth to youth. 
 Whence also these proverbs originate: "Fellows in 
 age, delight;" — "Whatever is similar;" — "Beasts 
 recognise their species ;" — " Birds of a feather flock 
 26. together;" and every other saying of this sort. But 
 as every thing hke and akin is delightful to it, and 
 as every one stands to himself in this relation in a 
 most special manner, all must be, more or less, lovers 
 of themselves ; for all these qualities do in a par- 
 ticular manner exist in reference to self. But as all 
 are lovers of themselves, that necessarily which is 
 their own must be pleasant to all ; as, for instance, 
 their sayings and productions. On which account 
 men are in general fond of flatterers and lovers, and 
 are ambitious and fond of children ; for children are 
 their own production^. It is also pleasant to put a 
 finish to what is deficient^; for it became by that 
 
 27.Powcr. time one's own production. And as rule is the most 
 pleasant of all things, the appearing to be wise is 
 also pleasant ; for knowledge is a principle of power ; 
 
 Wisdom, and wisdom is a knowledge of many subjects, and 
 
 Censure, those commanding admiration. Moreover, as men 
 in general are ambitious, the power of rebuking one's 
 
 28. Dwell- neighbour must needs be pleasant. Also the pausing 
 
 mgon Qj, ^jjg^j province in which he appears to be best, 
 
 0116 s own. 
 
 excellen- when compared with his own powers in other re- 
 
 cies. spects ; just as Euripides remarks, "And this he 
 
 plies, allotting the greatest part of each day to it, 
 
 ' One passion is often productive of another : examples are 
 ■without number ; the sole difficulty is a proper choice. I be- 
 gin with self-loye, and the power it hath to generate love to 
 children. Every man, beside making part of a greater system, 
 like a comet, a planet, or satellite only, hath a less system of 
 his own, in the centre of which he represents the sun, darting 
 his fire and heat all around ; especially upon his nearest con- 
 nexions : the connexion between a man and his children, 
 fundamentally that of cazise and effect, becomes, by the addi- 
 tion of other circumstances, the completest that can be among 
 individuals ; and therefore self-love, the most vigorous of all 
 passions, is readily expanded upon children. Lord Karnes's 
 Elements of Criticism, chap. ii. part 1, § 5. 
 
 ^ The completion of what has been left unfinished was be- 
 fore staled to be pleasant on another principle. See § 22. 
 
CHAP. XII.] RHETORIC. 79 
 
 in which, himself being compared with himself, he 
 appears most excellent." 
 
 In a similar way, since amusement ranks among 29. 
 pleasant things, and as every relaxation and laughter Laughter, 
 is of the number, things ridiculous must therefore of 
 course be pleasant, as well persons as expressions and 
 productions. But on the subject of the ridiculous, a 
 detailed discussion has been entered into in the 
 Poetics '". Let thus much have been said on the sub- 
 ject of things pleasant ; from the contraries of these 
 things, what is painful wiU be evident. These, 
 then, are the objects for the sake of which men act 
 unjustly. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 With what Dispositions men commit Injustice, in what 
 instances, and towards whom. 
 
 Let us now state with what dispositions men commit 1. Xlms 
 injustice, and towards whom they do so. As regards 'X<'''T". 
 themselves then, it is when they think the thing is agents of 
 one possible to be done, and possible to themselves ; injustice, 
 and either that, in doing it, they shall escape detec- ^™ ^' 
 tion, or, if they do not escape it, that they shall not when it ' 
 suffer punishment, or that they shall indeed suffer seems pos- 
 a punishment, but that the damage thereby incur- ^^t^^^. ^j^^fj 
 red will be less than the gain, either to themselves escape de- 
 or those for whom they have a regard. Now the taction. 
 subject of things which appear possible, and those 2. 
 which appear impossible, will be explained in the se- 
 quel; for these are points applicable in common to 
 all kinds of rhetoric '. Now as to their own advan- 
 tages, those men think they are in the highest degree 
 likely to commit injustice with impunity, who are of The 
 ability in speaking, and men of the world, and such talented, 
 as have experienced many a forensic contest. If, 
 
 '" In one of the books which has unfortunately been lost. 
 His definition of it is, aiFxpov dmv Xvirripov. 
 ' They are, in fact, tottoi, ii. 19. 
 
80 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 The pow- too, they happen to have many friends. If they be 
 erful. rich^. And more particularly do they think they 
 ■ can get off, if they be themselves^ possessed of the 
 forestated qualities ; and if they be not themselves so 
 qualified, yet if they have friends, or supporters, or 
 associates* of such talents, then also they think to 
 get oif ; for these are the' endowments, by aid of 
 which men are able both to act, to escape detection, 
 4.1f likely and avoid punishment^. Again, if they be friends, 
 to escape gj^hgr of the injured party, or of the judge; because 
 friends are off their guard against injustice, and are 
 moreover appeased before prosecuting their revenge. 
 But the judges gratify their friends, and either alto- 
 gether let them off, or amerce them in a trifle. 
 5. Such as People likely to escape detection, are those the very 
 sttesT til opposite in character to the charge ; as, a man of per- 
 charge, sonal imbecility, on a charge of assault ; or one poor 
 etc. and deformed, on a charge of adultery. Again, cir- 
 
 cumstances exceedingly palpable, and in the eyes of 
 all the world ; for these are unobserved, by reason 
 6. that no one would think of them at all. Acts, too, 
 of such enormity and such a character that no one 
 would presume ; for in regard to these also men are 
 off their guard : for it is against crimes which are 
 
 ^ He remarks, in his Politics, the general tendency to insub- 
 ordination and disohedience to laws observable in the rich and 
 prosperous ; — oi /xsv kv UTrspoxa"^^ E.iiTV\t)fJLaTa}u oi/TES, iffX^os, 
 KaiirXouTov, Kai (plXuii/, Kal TUiv aXKoiV twit toioutwz/, ap)(£(r0ai 
 OUTE ^oiiKovTaL ouTe tTTio-Tavxat. Polit. iv. c. 11. Upon the 
 same principle Tacitus remarks, " Opes principibus infensas." 
 Ann. lib. xi. c. 1. 
 
 ^ In the Ethics, where, in speaking of BouXeuo-is, he limits 
 its sphere first and generally to things possible, he remarks — 
 AvvaTa dk, tx 6t' rjfjLaiv yivoiTO dv. to. &i 5td Tutv ^iXutv Sl* rjfiiav 
 ttSiv ia-rii/ ii yap apxv s" Vfjuv. Eth. Nich. iii. 3. 
 
 ■* The Thessalonian Menon, in Xenophon, courted the 
 friendship of men in power with this view : tpiXos t' e/SouXeto 
 slvai xoTs fliyttTTOV dvvafiivoi^, 'itta a&LKUiV fx-t) SlSolij 6LKi}V. 
 Anab. lib. ii. c. 6. vid. infra. 
 
 ' The vast assistance to be derived from friends and sup- 
 porters by those who are under accusation, may be illustrated 
 by the following strong expressions of Augustus, who said, 
 " Cunotari se, ne, si superesset, eriperet legibus retim ; sin de- 
 esset, destituere, ao prcsdamnare amicum videretur." Sueton. 
 
CHAP, xn.] RHETORIC. 81 
 
 ordinary, as it is against bodily infirmity of an usual 
 
 kind, that men set themselves on their guard ; but as 
 
 to cases in which no one yet has been afflicted, no 
 
 one is cautious. Also those people are open to at- 7. 
 
 tack, to whom no one is an enemy, or to whom many 
 
 are ; for in the one case the aggressors think to escape 
 
 detection from their not being on their guard ; and 
 
 in the other, they escape from its not seeming likely 
 
 that they would make an attempt on people ever on 
 
 their guard, and from their having ever at hand the 
 
 plea, that they never could have been so mad as to 
 
 attempt it. Those again are likely to act unjustly, 8. Such 
 
 who have at hand means of concealing or changing ^ ^^^'^ 
 
 property, places to hide, or any easy means of dispos- ™n^l- 
 
 ing of it. All those persons, too, who, if they do not ment. 
 
 escape, having nevertheless means of setting aside the 
 
 sentence, or of tedious delay, or of corrupting the 
 
 judges ; and who, if the fine be imposed, can yet set 
 
 aside its payment, or put it off a length of time, or who, 
 
 from their neediness, have nothing to lose. All, too, 9. Wliere 
 
 who have the gain clearly in view, or great, or close ^^"^ '" 
 
 at hand ; while the loss is trifling, indistinct, and at a Sja 
 
 distance. Also any one to whom the punishment is 
 
 not adequate to the advantage ; of which kind a tyranny 
 
 seems to be. All, again, in whose case the commission lO.AMiere 
 
 of iniustice is an act of gain, while the punishment is ^^^ V^'^- 
 • 1. ■ a J.I. 4. J.-U ishment 
 
 mere opprobrium, bo, on the contrary, are they jg „^y (,„. 
 
 whose unjust acts lead to a kind of credit, (as if it probrium. 
 
 should happen for one, in their commission to avenge 
 
 a &ther or mother, as was the case of Zeno,) while 
 
 the punishment leads merely to fine, banishment, or 
 
 something of that kind ; for both descriptions of 
 
 persons act unjustly ; however, they are not the same 
 
 in character, but the very opposite. Persons, too, ii. The 
 
 who have often escaped notice, or who have not been imdetect- 
 
 punished. People who have often met with iE ^he un- 
 
 success ; for these, like persons engaged in warlike lucky. 
 
 operations, are of a disposition to renew the contest. 
 
 Every one also to whom the pleasant is immediate, 12. Where 
 
 while the painful is subsequent ; or if the object be ^^^ pl^.a- 
 
 gain, while the loss is subsequent ; for all inconti- ^^at™ 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book I. 
 
 13. Or 
 some- 
 times 
 when re- 
 mote. 
 
 14. Where 
 another 
 motive 
 will be at- 
 tributed. 
 
 1-5. Men 
 in want. 
 i. Who 
 want ne- 
 cessaries, 
 ii. Who 
 want su- 
 pei-flui- 
 ties. 
 
 16. Men 
 of good 
 character. 
 Men of 
 bad cha- 
 racter. 
 
 17. The 
 persons 
 exposed to 
 injustice 
 are : such 
 as have 
 the de- 
 sired ob- 
 ject. 
 
 18. The 
 distant. 
 The near. 
 
 nent persons are thus affected : now incontinence is 
 conversant about all objects whatsoever which men 
 desire^. And on the contrary, persons are wont to 
 act unjustly in cases where the painful or loss is 
 immediate, but the pleasant and expedient is subse- 
 quent, and slow in presenting itself j for continent 
 persons, and such as have rather more practical 
 wisdom, pursue objects of this kind. Wherever, 
 too, a person may appear to have acted by chance, 
 by necessity, natural bent, or habit ; and, in a word, 
 to be guilty of error, not of injustice. Also in what- 
 ever cases it may happen that one would meet with 
 equity. Again, whatever persons are in want : now 
 men are in want two ways ; for either they want 
 necessaries, like the poor ; or something in excess, 
 just as the rich''. People, too, of exceedingly good 
 character, or such as are utterly destitute of charac- 
 ter ; the first, on the principle that they shall not 
 appear the culprits ; the last, that they shall not be 
 a whit worse off as to character. Thus affected 
 in themselves, then, it is that men attack their 
 neighbours. 
 
 But they act unjustly against persons, and on ac- 
 count of objects, of the following descriptions. Per- 
 sons who possess things which themselves are in need 
 of, be it for necessaries, for superfluity, or for sensual 
 enjoyment : people who are at a distance, and those 
 who are near ; for the means of getting at the one are 
 quick, and the vengeance of the others is slow ; as on 
 those, for instance, who plunder Carthaginians': and 
 
 ® Although incontinence, properly so called, is, excited hy a 
 limited description of objects, yet there is a feeling analogous 
 to, and, in the vague language of the world, synonymous with 
 it, which may be excited by any objects whatsoever ;—inroKr]*' 
 tIou fioifou aKpaviaif Kal lyKpaTEiav Elvat, jjTis £<rTt irtpi Ta 
 aiiTa T77 (no(ppO(r6liri Kai ttj dKo\a<Tia, llipl Sk dufiov, KaS' 
 6|Uoio'Ti)Ta Xiyofiiv. Etli. Nich. vii. 4. This is another of the 
 many instances, in which Aristotle supposes the rhetorician to 
 take a popular view of his subject. 
 
 ' Exilia domus est ubi non et multa supersunt. Hor. Ep. 
 lib. i. 6, 45. 
 
 ' This may have been a proverbial expression for desig- 
 nating any attack on a remote object; since, considered in 
 
CHAP. XII.] RHETORIC. 83 
 
 men who are not cautious, nor apt to be on their 19. 
 guard, but are of a disposition to repose confidence ; 
 for it is easy enough to elude all such. Also towards The indo- 
 such as are of an indolent turn; for to prosecute is the '^"*- 
 part of a man who is strenuous. Against such also as Those 
 have a delicate sense of honour ; for these are not apt ''^^? ^^''^ 
 to squabble about gain : and again, those who have sense of 
 been wronged by many already, yet without their pro- honour, 
 secuting 5 as though these were, in the words of the ^"^ 
 proverb, "a prey to very Mysians^." Both against 21. The 
 those who never yet have been wronged, and those ^™"ged. 
 who frequently have been, men are wont to act un- harmed, 
 justly ; both being off their guard, the first under the 
 idea that they never shall be wronged, the last as 
 though they should not be wronged any more : also 23. Those 
 against those who have had imputations thrown on 'fL^' 
 their characters, or who are open to it ; for such peo- 
 ple, from a fear of the judges, do not take on them- 
 selves to effect persuasion, neither, in fact, are they 
 able ; of which class are all who are disliked and en- 
 vied. Men act unjustly also towards those against 23. Such 
 whom they have any pretext, on the part either of ^ "J^" ^ * 
 their ancestors, themselves, or friends, that they have 
 wrought ill, or intended it, either against themselves, 
 or their ancestors, or those for whom they have a re- 
 gard ; for, as the proverb goes, " Malice wants only 
 an excuse." Against friends ^^ and against enenjies 24. 
 are acts of injustice committed ; for against the first g™^j 
 it is easy'', against the others pleasant : also against 
 
 reference to GreSce under the then imperfect state of naviga- 
 tion, Carthage was an object not easily got at. 
 
 ' The Mysians were so effeminate and unwarlike, that their 
 neighbours made encroachments on their territory with im- 
 punity, so that they became proverbial thi-ough Greece. 
 
 '" Some traits in the character of the Thessalian Menon, as 
 given by Xenophon, will serve to illustrate Aristotle's cata- 
 logue of these objects of villany. Of Menon it was remarked, 
 TDK iiiu TQN nOAEMIQN Kr^fiaaiv oIik iwi^oOXsui'—xaXE- 
 iroK yip wsTo slvat Tct TQN *YAATTOMENQN \a/iPavuv— 
 ri. Si TQN $1 AQN ;uo'l/os weto lUivai on jigcrTou 'A<i>YAAKTA 
 Xafi^avtiv. TLal otrovs fJ.kv ay alcrddvOLTO STTLopKovs Kai aSiKovs^ 
 MS eS unrXnTiiivovi k(j>ojiiiTO' toU S' ocrioii Kai dXrideiav daKoiKnu 
 m dtravSpois kirzipdro \pTj(7Qai. Anab, lib. ii. c. 6. 
 
 " Upon this principle the remark of Demonax was grounded 
 G 2 
 
84 ARISTOTLE'S |.B00X i. 
 
 The those who are friendless, and those who are not of 
 
 friendless, ability in speaking or acting ; because these either do 
 ^lio^are not at all attempt to prosecute, or are reconciled, or 
 not elo- bring nothing to the point : also against those whom 
 quent nor j^, ^jjj ^^^ _ ^^ ^jg waiting in watch for the sentence 
 
 25. Those of court, or the payment of the fine ; for instance, 
 who can- foreigners and mechanics ; for people under these cir- 
 ?o wa^"'^'* cumstances are reconciled for a trifle, and are easily 
 
 26. The hushed. People, too, who themselves have been 
 unjust. guilty of injustice in many instances, or in cases of 
 
 the very character under which they now are wronged ; 
 because it appears to approximate in some degree to 
 non-commission of injustice, when a person shall have 
 been wronged in a particular, in which he is himself 
 wont to be guilty ; it is, I mean, as if one were in- 
 solently to assault the person of a man who is himself 
 27. in the habit of being insolent. Those also get in- 
 jured who have wrought ill, or who possessed, or do 
 now possess, an inclination to do so, or who are about 
 to do so ; for the act involves what is pleasant and 
 honourable ; and it appears to approximate to non- 
 28, commission of injury: those, too, in injuring whom, 
 a man gratifies his friends, those he admires or loves, 
 on whom he is in dependence, or, in a word, all at 
 whose control he lives, and at whose hands it happens 
 
 29. Our be will meet with equitable consideration. Men also 
 enemies. ^j-Q^g tiigse with whom they have ground of quarrel, 
 
 and have been previously at variance, as Cahppus 
 did in the case about Dion ; for acts of this nature 
 seem to approximate to a non-commission of injus- 
 
 30. Those tice : and those who are on the eve of being injured 
 
 just on ]jy others, should we not do so ourselves ; since this 
 the point r 
 
 — Ei \atr(Tat KaKa -Tratrj^oucrti/ ol avdpioTrot utto tojv iydpaiVf ^ iird 
 Tuiv </)i\wy. TOV9 ^kif yip iydpovs SeSlote^ (pu\a(T(70vTat' Tois dl 
 <pt\ot9 dvEoi'Yfj.ivoL £l(tI, kul yivovTai o-^aXepoi koX evettl^ov- 
 Xevtol. Nor did this escape the penetration of that keen oh- 
 server of human nature, Tacitus : Quibus deerat inimicus, per 
 arnicas oppressi. Hist. i. 3. Pomponium Flaccum, veterem 
 stipendiis, et arct4 cum rege amicitii, eo aceommodatiorem ad 
 faUendmn, ob id maxime Mcesiae prfefecit. Ann. ii. 66. To 
 this purpose, too, is the maxim of P. Syrus, Mage cavendi 
 est amicorum invidia, quam insidioe hostium. See also Pro- 
 verbs, iii. 29. 
 
CHAP. XII.] RHETORIC. 85 
 
 admits no longer any deliberation ; just as iEnesi- of being 
 demus is said to have sent presents of cups '^ to Gelon ^J"""?;^ 
 after he had reduced some state, because he had gotten '' "' ^"^^^ 
 the start, himself being on the eve of attempting it. 
 Injurers attack those, also, by injuring whom they 31. Those 
 will be enabled to do many acts of justice, as though ^g"™;^,^ 
 they could easily amend their error ; just as Jason compen- 
 the Thessalian said, " that in some particulars one sate. 
 must needs act with injustice, in order to his being 
 able to do many deeds of justice'':" again, they attack ?2. Men 
 people in those particulars, in regard to which, all or ™^^^g ^j^^ 
 most persons usually act wrong ; because here they articles 
 think to meet with fellow feeling: in regard also to are easy to 
 particulars easy to conceal, of which nature are arti- 33, 
 cles quickly consumed, victuals for instance ; or ar- 
 ticles admitting a ready change, either in shape, co- 
 lour, or composition ; or which it is easy to put out 
 of sight in a variety of places ; of which sort are 34. Port- 
 articles easily portable, and hidden in small places ; ^ "' 
 •articles also the like to which, or some undistinguish- 35. Diffi- 
 able from them, have previously been in the posses- i^entyje^ 
 sion of the individuals who thus violate justice. "Where 
 Men injure, moreover, in regard to such particulars, *.<= P^*y 
 as the injured parties have a delicacy in mentioning ; feels a de- 
 thus in assaults on females intimately connected, or licacy in 
 on themselves, or on their children : in all cases, too, fr^^^ 
 in regard to which the prosecuting party would ap- subject.- 
 pear litigious ; of this nature are trifling things, and "Where it 
 those in which people sympathize and forgive. tirimis to 
 
 demand 
 '^ The amusement of the KOTxa/Jos had become so popular justice, 
 at the Grecian banquets, that persons ■who practised it with 
 superior dexterity were presented with rewards, KOTTapua, 
 supposed by some commentators to have been a sort of cups 
 or vessels peculiarly adapted to the purposes of the game. See 
 Meursius de Ludis Vet. Graec. p. 28, v. KoTTa^icr/io's. Vid. 
 Athenae, fol. 666, ubi de Cottabo. Critias ibid. : 
 
 "Ov ffKOTTOv is Xaraytoy to^o. KaBnTTafitda. 
 See Victorius, and also Barnes's note on Frag. 105, in his 
 edition of Anacreon. ^ 
 
 " Thus, too, the Jesuits contended that " evil might be done 
 in order to produce good." 
 
86 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book 
 
 The dispositions then under which, the objects for 
 whose sake, and the person towards whom, men act 
 unjustly, and why they do so, are nearly these which 
 I have stated. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Of Acts of Injustice, and Matters of Equity. 
 
 1. All in- Commencing from this point, let me mark in detail 
 o^nd ^^ ^•'ts which conform to, or which violate justice, 
 against Now right and wrong have been defined in reference 
 2 'i'^Th *° *^° kinds of law, and in a twofold way also in re- 
 p'articu- gard to those persons to whom they refer'. Law 2, 
 lar. now, I understand, to be either peculiar or universal ; 
 
 seneral peculiar, to be that which has been marked out by 
 law. each people in reference to itself, and that this is 
 
 partly unwritten, partly written. I call that law uni- 
 versal, which is conformable merely to dictates of na- 
 ture ; for there does exist naturally an universal sense 
 of right and wrong', which, in a certain degree, all 
 
 ' Vid. Eth. Nicli. v. 7. 
 
 ° The description of Law given by Demosthenes is, perhaps, 
 the most perfect and satisfactory that can either be found or 
 conceived : 01 Sk vofjLoi rd SUaLov Kal t& koKou koX 'to tru/Kfii- 
 
 pOV ^OvXoVTai, Koi TOVTO ^7JT0U0't' /Cttt iTTEtSaV fUpE0^ KOtVOV 
 
 TovTO TrpocFTay/xa a'jrt^Ei^Btj, traariv taov Kai ofioiov. Kai tout' 
 eiTTt vofio^y (o TrayTas mrpoffriKEL iTEi&tadaL, 5ta 'jroW&, KUL fJL&- 
 Xitrd*, OTt Traff ka-Ti vofxos t.\ipT)fxa fxkv /cat SSjpov Qewv^ Soyfia 5' 
 dvdpw'wwv ippovLfjLtiiv^ Eiravopdujjua 6e twv BKOv<riuiv Kai dKovaiwii 
 afxapT^/jLaTtuv, iroXews 5e avvdnKt} KOlvrt' Kad' ^v irdaL irpotrriKSt 
 J51/ Tois h Tp TTo^^E'. The design and object q{ iaws is to 
 ascertain what is just, honourable, and expedient ; and when 
 that is discovered, it is proclaimed as a general ordinance, 
 equal and impartial to all. This is the origin of law, which, 
 for various reasons, all are under an obligation to obey, hut 
 especially because all law is the invention and gift of Peaven, 
 the sentiment of wise men, the con-ection of every offence, and 
 the general compact of the state ; to live in conformity with 
 which is the duty of every individual in society. Orat. i. contr. 
 Aristogit. Notes on Blackstone. 
 
 ' This law of nature, being coeval with mankind, and dic- 
 tated by God himself, is of course superior in obligation to any 
 
CHAP. XIII. J RHETORIC. .87 
 
 intuitively divine, even should no intercourse with 
 each other, nor any compact have existed''; wliich 
 sentiment the Antigone of- Sophocles enters uttering, 
 that it was just, namely to bury Polynices, though de- 
 nounced, since this by nature was a deed of justice : 
 " For by no means is it for this or the next day mere- 
 ly that this maxim is in force, but for ever ; nor is 
 there any one who knows from whom it proceeded ^. 
 And as Empedocles says on the subject of not slaying 
 that which has life : for this maxim is not right here, 
 and wrong there, " but a principle of law to all, it is 
 extended uninterruptedly throughout the spacious 
 firmament and boundless light." And as Alcidamas 
 remarks in the Messeniac oration. 
 
 As to the persons also in reference to whom right 3. 
 and wrong have been defined, a twofold distinction 
 has been made*; for that which we ought to do and Injustice 
 to leave undone, exists in reference either to the com- agaiiist 
 munity, or to an individual member of it. And hence munity 
 we may, as regards acts of justice, and the contrary, 
 violate justice or adhere to it in two ways ; for we 
 may do so in reference either to an individual, or 
 to the community : for the man who is guilty of injustice 
 adultery, or of an assault, injuries some individual; "g™"^* 
 but he who will not bear arms injures the commit- -vilud.'" 
 nity. 
 
 other. It is binding over all the globe, in all countries, and at 
 all times : no human laws are of any vaUdify, if contrary to 
 this ; and such of them as are valid derive all their force and 
 all their authority, mediately or immediately, from this original. 
 Blackstone, Comment. Introduct. § 2, p. 41. 
 
 ' See the subject of natural law admirably illustrated in the 
 first book of Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, § 8, 9. 
 
 ' Thus Lord Hale says of the common law of England, 
 " The original of the common law is as undiscoverable as the 
 head of the Nile." Hist. Com. Law, 55. 
 
 ^ Wrongs are divisible into two sorts or species,— private 
 wrongs and public wrongs. The former are an infringement or 
 "privation of the private or civil rights belonging to individuals, 
 considered as individuals, and are therefrom frequently termed 
 civil-injuries. The latter are a breach and violation of public 
 rights and duties, which affect the whole community, con- 
 sidered as a community," etc. Blackstone's Commentaries, 
 b iii. c. 1. 
 
88 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 i. Now as all acts of violating justice have been dis- 
 tinguished, and as some of them are against the com- 
 munity, and others against one or more individual 
 members of it, let me, after reverting to what the suf- 
 
 5. fering inj ustice is, explain the rest. Now to be inj ured, 
 is to suffer injustice at the hands of a willing agent ; 
 
 6. for commission of injustice has been previously de- 
 fined to be a voluntary act. As however it is neces- 
 sary that the person injured should be hurt, and in- 
 voluntarily hurt. Now what hurt is will be evident 
 from what has gone before ; for things good and evil 
 have been distinctly spoken of above, and voluntary 
 acts also ; namely, that they are all things done know- 
 
 7. ingly. So that all grounds for complaint must exist, 
 necessarily in reference either to the community, or 
 to individual interests ; the agent being either uncon- 
 scious, or unwilling, or willing and conscious; and 
 [in the last] of these cases, acting either on deliberate 
 
 8. choice, or on the impulse of passion. Now I shall 
 treat on the subject of anger in my discussion of the 
 passions ; but it has been above explained under what 
 circumstances, and with what dispositions, men act on 
 deliberate principle. 
 
 9. Wg But as people, while they acknowledge their hav- 
 
 niust j^g acted in such a way, very frequently will not ac- 
 deflnition knowledge the designation in the indictment, or the 
 of theva- view of the case on which the indictment turns : a 
 rfinius? ^^^ ^''^ avow, for example, his having taken a 
 tice. thing, but not his having stolen it; that he struck 
 
 the first blow, but yet did not insult; that he co- 
 habited, but did not commit adultery, with the woman 
 in question ; or that he stole, but was not guilty of 
 sacrilege, for it was not consecrated property ; or that 
 he did till beyond his boundary, but encroached not 
 uipon public land ; or conversedjEith the enemy, hut 
 was yet not guilty of treason/ it will, for these rea- 
 sons, be necessary to lay dowiniefinitions on these 
 matters ; as to what essentially constitutes theft, in- 
 sult, and adultery; in order that, if we wish to show 
 that they really do or do not exist, we may be able 
 10. to set the right of the case in a true light. Now all 
 
OHAP. xiii.] RHETORIC. 89 
 
 these questions, as to a matter being unjust and cri- 
 minal, or not unjust, do in fact constitute the ground 
 of inquiry ; for the criminality and injustice of the act 
 stands essentially in the deliberate principle on which 
 it is done ; and this sort of terms marks, over and 
 above the matter of fact, the principle also of the 
 agent ; the terms, assault and felony, for instance ; for 
 because a man has struck another, he will not under 
 aU circumstances have assaulted him, but if he has 
 done so with a view to something, as with a view to 
 treat him with disrespect, or to his own gratification : 
 neither, supposing a man has taken privily, has he 
 been guilty, in every case, of larceny ; but if he took 
 it to the injury of another, or in order to appropriate 
 it to himself, then indeed he has been guilty of larceny. 
 The case too is similar respecting other terms de- 
 signating crimes to what has been remarked respect- 
 ing these. 
 
 But as there were two species of things right and 11. 
 wrong ; for one was of written prescript, the other of 
 unwritten law ; now those on the subject of which 
 the laws speak a written language have been treated 
 of ; and of those arising from unwritten law there are The un- 
 two kinds. And these are, the one class which is ™tt™ 
 
 lElW IS 
 
 always in proportion to the excess of vice or virtue twofold ; 
 of the agent, on which are consequent either cen- 12. i. icae' 
 sures and praises, or deprivation of rank and marks J'f 'P^°- 
 of distinction and public grants ; thus, for instance, ^^^ ^.^j 
 the being grateful to a benefactor, and the repaying kukIui. 
 with kindness one who has been kind to yourself, and 
 the having an inclination to aid one's friends, and 
 whatever other duties are of this kind : the other ii. to toO 
 class, are the supplement' of the peculiar and written '^'''"' "<'' 
 law of states ; for the equitable should seem to be l^^ovtx- 
 somewhat just. And equity is that idea of justice, X^ififia, 
 which contravenes the written law.* And this con- ™ eqi"ty- 
 
 13. 
 
 ' 'EIIANO'PSQMA vo/iov, y iWitwEi Sia TO Ka86\ov. 
 Ethics, v. 10. " The correction of that, -wherein the law (by 
 reason of its univeraaUty) is deficient." Grotius de jEqui- 
 tate, § 3. 
 
 ' We see in contracts, and other dealings which daily pass 
 
90 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 tradiction happens, partly indeed against the will, 
 and partly with the will of the legislator : it then 
 happens against his will, when the question may have 
 escaped his notice ; but, with his will, whenever he 
 has it not in his power accurately to make distinc- 
 tion, hut it is necessary that he pronounce univer- 
 sally, though the case be not so absolutely without 
 exceptions, but generally only. Thus also in respect 
 to all cases about which, by reason of their infinitude, 
 it is not easy to make distinctions ; such, with regard 
 to wounding with steel, are the distinctions as to the 
 size and nature of the instrument, for an age would 
 14. fail one in the enumeration. Be it then that the case 
 admits not such distinctions, yet if one must needs 
 enact a law respecting it, he cannot do otherwise than 
 speak in general terms'; so that one who has so 
 much as a ring on his finger, and lifts up his hand and 
 strikes you, does by the letter of the written law 
 stand guilty, and acts unjustly ; but in real truth he 
 does not act unjustly'"; and this is the equity of the 
 
 between man and man, that, to the utter undoing of some, 
 many things by strictness of law may be done, which equity 
 and HONEST meaning forbiddeth. Not that the law is unjust, 
 but imperfect; nor ec^nity against, but above the law, binding 
 men's consciences in things which the law cannot reach unto. 
 Will any man say that the virtue of private equity is opposite 
 and repugnant to that law, the silence whereof it supplieth in all 
 such private dealing ? No more is public equity against the 
 law of public affairs; albeit, the one permit imto some, in 
 special considerations, that which the other, agreeably with 
 general rules of justice, doth in general sort forbid. For, sith 
 all good laws are the voices of right reason, which is the in- 
 strument wherewith God will have the world guided, and im- 
 possible it is that right should withstand right ; it must follow 
 that principles and rules of justice, be they never so generally 
 uttered, do no less effectually intend, than if they did plainly 
 express, an exception of all particulars, wherein their literal 
 practice might any way prejudice equity . Hooker, b. v. § 9, p. 35. 
 
 ® AtTLOU S\ OTt 6 /J.EV VOflOS KadoXoV TTCtS* ITSpl kviojV Sk oil\ 
 
 olov t4 dpdciji ctTrEtj/ KaQoXov. Arist, Ethics, v. 10. Compare 
 the whole chapter with what is said above. 
 
 '» Not without singular wisdom, therefore, it hath been pro- 
 vided, that as the ordinary course of common affairs is dis- 
 posed of by general laws, so likewise men's rarer incident ne- 
 cessities and utilities should be with special equity considered. 
 Hooker, b. v. u. 9, p. 35. 
 
CHAP, xin.] RHETORIC. 91 
 
 case. Now if equity be what it has been stated to 15. Equi- 
 be, it will be evident what kind of things are equit- ty consists 
 able, and what not so ; also what kind of persons are feeling, 
 not equitable. Since in whatever cases one is bound 
 to have a fellow-feeling, these are all cases of equity. 
 Again, equity is the not esteeming' faults and crimes 16. 
 of equal guUt, nor accidents, and faults. Now acci- 
 dents are whatever things happen against all calcula- 
 tion, and proceed not from criminal principle ; and 
 faults are whatever things do not happen against cal- 
 culation, nor proceed from criminal principle ; but 
 crimes are whatever things, not falling out contrary 
 to calculation, proceed from criminal principle ; for 
 the things which are done through desire, proceed 
 from criminal principle. Equity also is the having a 17- In 
 sympathy for human failings ; and the having an eye, ^5^^*' 
 not to the law, but to the lawgiver; and not to the 
 language, but to the intention of the lawgiver". And 18. In 
 not to the conduct, but to the principles of the agent ; ^^° ^^_ ° 
 not to his conduct in one particular, but to its whole tive more 
 tenor. Not what kind of person he has been in this *™ ^^^ 
 instance, but what he has always shown himself, or 
 generally at least. The having, too, a remembrance 
 of the good one has received, rather than of the ill ; 
 of the good one has received, rather than what one 
 has done ; though injured, to endure it patiently; to 
 prefer a decision by argument, rather than by re- 
 course to action : a wish to proceed to arbitration, 19. ^'^- 
 rather than to judicial decision, for the arbitrator ^^jj.^te° 
 looks to what is equitable, the judge to what is law ; 
 and in order to this it was that arbitration was in- 
 troduced, in order, namely, that equity might prevail. 
 So far then for our distinctions on the subject of what 
 is equitable. 
 
 " Therefore the Bolognian law, mentioned by Puffendorf, 
 which enacted, " that whoever drew blood in the streets should 
 be punished with the utmost severitj," was held after long de- 
 bate not to extend to the surgeon, who opened the vein of a 
 person that fell down in the street with a fit. Blackstone, 
 Comment. Introd. § 2, p. 61. For a variety of such cases, see 
 Rhet. ad Herennium, lib. i. c. ii. etc. 
 
92 
 
 ARISTOTLE*S 
 
 [book I. 
 
 1. Greater 
 
 offences 
 
 are those 
 
 arising 
 
 from 
 
 greater 
 
 principle. 
 
 2. Where 
 the penal- 
 ty is not 
 equiva- 
 lent. 
 
 3. Where 
 the in- 
 jured 
 partyhath 
 wronged 
 himself in 
 conse- 
 quence. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Of the Degrees of Guilt. 
 
 Those acts of injustice are greater in degree, which 
 proceed from the greater principle of injustice"; and 
 on this account the most trifling are the greatest ; as 
 the charge which Callistratus laid against Melenopus, 
 that he had defrauded the builders of the temple in 
 his accounts, to the amount of three half farthings 
 of consecrated property ; but in the case of justice, 
 things are more or less just in a contrary ratio ^. 
 Now these criteria, arise from the actions virtually 
 exceeding ; for he who stole three half farthings of 
 consecrated money would cheat one in any thing. 
 The degree of an act of injustice is decided then, 
 sometimes on this principle, at others on that of the 
 harm done. Those also are very flagrant, for which 
 no punishment is an equivalent, but of which every 
 one falls short ; as also that which there is no means 
 of healing ; for such a case is difficult and impracti- 
 cable : also where the injured party can get no re- 
 dress in court ; for the evil is without cure, because 
 chastisement and a judicial sentence are a cure. If 
 the party suffering, and who was wronged, hath 
 grievously injured himself^; for then the man who 
 did the wrong deserves punishment in a still greater 
 degree; just as Sophocles said when pleading in be- 
 half of Euctemon, who, on being insolently assaulted, 
 slew himself ; " that he would price the deed at no 
 
 ' See Gibbon's Decline and Fall, e. 44, at note 188. Mea- 
 sure of Guilt, vol. viii. p. 98. 
 
 * So much for the standard of injustice; for it is evident 
 that any man who is sufficiently depraved to cheat you for a 
 farthing, would not scruple to do so for a larger sum. But in 
 (he contrary habit of tlie mind, a contrary ratio holds, in the 
 case of conforming to rules of justice — tA tKa^i^a^a^ eX^j^tffTa; 
 for a man may be very honest in minor transactions, who 
 would not scruple to cheat you if a greater temptation were 
 thrown in his way. 
 
 ^ As in the case of Lucretia : her killing herself was an 
 aggravation of the guilt of Tarquin. 
 
OHAP. XIV.] RHETORIC. 93 
 
 less cost than the sufferer had prized himself at." 
 Crimes, too, of which the present criminal has alone 4. Where 
 been guilty, or he first, or very few besides. Also *^ 9^" 
 the being frequently guilty of the same enormity, ^^g ^ 
 Any thing too on account of which new prohibitory first. 
 and penal statutes have been sought out, and intro- 
 duced ; as at Argos they punish s^ny one on whose 
 account a law may have been enacted, and those on 
 account of whom the prison was erected. That act 5. The 
 of injustice also is greater, which is of a more brutal ^^Z-t 
 character. That too which proceeds more immedi- 
 ately from malice aforethought. That too which, as 
 they hear of, people are affected by dread, rather 
 than compassion. And the rhetorical expedients for 
 exaggeration are as follows ; — " he hath swept away 
 or overleaped many principles of justice," as oaths, 
 the plighting of his hand, pledges of fidelity, and 
 marriage contracts ; for there is an excess by the 
 ratio of many crimes. And its being on the very 6. Those 
 spot where criminals receive punishment ; which J^"","" 
 they do who bear false witness ; for where would he of punish- 
 not be ready to act wrong, if at least he does so even ment. 
 in the judgment hall*? Those deeds too on which 
 shame is most especially felt. Also if the party has 
 injured him at whose hands he has been benefited : 
 for he is guilty in more than one way, both in that 
 he does him wrong, and in that he did not good to 
 him. Also the man who has violated the unwritten 7. Viola- 
 principles of right ; for it belongs to a man of supe- ^™.°ft'^'^ 
 rior excellence to be just unconstrainedly ; now what 
 is of written prescript is done of necessity, but not so 
 what is unwritten. Taking it in another way, it is a 
 feature of aggravation if it be in violation of written and writ- 
 law ; for you may say, the man who is unjust in mat- *™ ^^^^'• 
 ters where is room for apprehending punishment, and 
 on which loss attends, surely would be likely to be 
 
 * Among tlie aggravations of affrays hy the law of England 
 one is, " Where a respect for the particular place ought to re- 
 strain and regulate men's behaviour, more than in common 
 ones ; as in the king's court, and the like." Blackstone, b. 
 iv. c. 11, k 5. 
 
94 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 unjust in respect of matters on which no loss is con- 
 sequent. Thus, then, the greater and less degrees of 
 injustice have been treated of. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Hespecting Proofs originating independently/ of Art. 
 
 LaTixvoi It comes next to the subject just treated of, for me 
 iricTTtis. J.Q j,jjjj Q^gj, ^jjg pi-Qofs which are called inartificial ; 
 
 2. Five in because these are peculiar to judicial oratory '. And 
 number, ^j^gy. ^^^ ji^g jjj um^^jgr, viz. laws, witnesses, deeds, 
 
 torture, oaths. 
 
 3. i. Laws. First, then, let me speak of Laws, in what way 
 
 an orator, in exhorting or dissuading, and in accus- 
 ing or defending, is to turn them to his purpose. 
 
 4. Argu- Because it is plain, that if the written law be op- 
 ments for pQgg^ ^g ]jjg g^gg jjg mugt avail himself of the uni- 
 
 tne orator ^ ^ i< . i^ , -, -, i 
 
 to whom versal law, and or topics oi equity, as more absolutely 
 
 the writ- jugt ; and he must argue that, really " to act to the 
 
 k op^^ best of his judgment ^," is to decline an implicit adher- 
 
 posed. enCe to written prescript : he must insist, moreover, 
 
 ^- that equity remains for ever, and varies not at any 
 
 time, neither does the universal law, for this is in 
 
 conformity to nature ; but that the written law does 
 
 frequently vary ; whence it was said in the Antigone 
 
 ' He here apologizes for his violation of the proposed ar- 
 rangement, in treating of the a-rixvaL ttio-teis, before he has 
 fully despatched the ivTlxvai. In fact, the former class of 
 iriaTEi^ are so nearly confined to judicial, that their introduc- 
 tion, though a little out of place, as an appendix to the subject 
 of judicial rhetoric, is very appropriate. Not, however, but that 
 TTio-Ttis of this class may be available in deliberative oratory ; 
 and indeed Aristotle himself seems to hint as much in using 
 the words TrpoTpiirovra Kal diroTp^TTovTa (expressions peculiar 
 to deliberation), as well as KaTtjyopovvra Kai diroXoyou/jievovj 
 §3. 
 
 ' The judges were bound by oath, first, to an adherence to 
 the laws, and in cases unrecognised by law, to exercise their 
 best judgment, {yvoiixtt fi apio-Tti:) this, as Aristotle here ob- 
 serves, left grounds for the appeal of an orator. 
 
CHAP. XV.] RHETORIC. 95 
 
 of Sophocles ; for she is defending herself because 
 she acted in opposition to the law of Creon, but not 
 in opposition to the universal law', "for these are 
 not of this or of the next day merely, but ever exist ; 
 their prescript would I, not for the sake of any one, 
 
 ." He must insist, also, that justice is some- 7. 
 
 thing substantially true and expedient, but not so 
 that mere seeming of justice, so that neither is the 
 written law, for it does not the duty of law. And 
 that the judge is, as it were, an assay-master, that 
 he may distinguish between counterfeit and real 
 ideas of justice. And that it is the part of a better 8. 
 man to employ and abide by the unwritten law than 
 the written. He should also observe, if the law 9. 
 which stands in his way be at variance with any ap- 
 proved law, or be itself at variance with itself ; thus 
 sometimes one law directs that whatever mep shaU 
 have covenanted should be valid ; another forbids that 
 they should covenant any thing contrary to the law. 
 Observe, also, whether it be equivocal, so that you 10. 
 may wrest it to your purpose, and discover to which 
 construction either justice or expediency wiU best 
 adjust itself ; then let him avail himself of that law. 
 And if the circumstances under which the law was U'- 
 enacted be no longer remaining^, but the law itself 
 is remaining, he should endeavour to make this clear, 
 and battle against it on this ground. But should the 12. Axgn- 
 written law be in favour of his case, the orator then ™^^„ 
 must state that "the best of one's judgment" is in- whose 
 serted, not for the sake of a judge's deciding contrary sid? is the 
 to the law, but in order that, if he be ignorant of J^" ™ 
 what the law directs, he may not forswear himself. 
 He should insist also, that no one chooses good in the 
 abstract, but what is so to himself; and that there is 
 no difference between a law not enacted and one not 
 put in force. And he should observe that, in other 
 arts, it advantages not for one to indulge himself in 
 such over-wisdom ; as, for example, in respect of a 
 
 ' Already quoted in chap. 13, § 2. 
 
 < Vide the arguments adduced in favour of Catholic eman- 
 cipation. 
 
96 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book 1. 
 
 13. 2na. 
 On wit- 
 nesses, 
 whicli 
 are two- 
 fold, 
 i. iraXat- 
 
 01. 
 
 ii. irpo- 
 <r(paTOL. 
 
 14. Wit- 
 nesses of 
 the future 
 are sooth- 
 sayers. 
 Proverbs 
 are wit- 
 nesses. 
 
 physician ; for there the errors of his physician do 
 not so greatly hurt a man, as the habituating himself 
 to disobey him who has the direction of his health. 
 And that the seeking to be wiser than the law, is the 
 very thing which in well-approved laws is prohi- 
 bited. And on the subject of laws let such be our 
 distinctions. 
 
 But to the subject of Witnesses: witnesses are 
 twofold, some ancient, others modern *, and of these 
 some are partners in the risk, others are uninvolved 
 in it. I mean by ancient witnesses, both poets and 
 all other illustrious persons whose decisions are open 
 to the world ; as, for example, the Athenians em- 
 ployed Homer as their witness in the matter of 
 Salamis ; and the people of Tenedos but recently 
 employed Periander the Corinthian, against the 
 people of SigEeum j Cleophon, also, employed the 
 Elegies of Solon against Critias, saying, that the 
 family of old time was a dissolute one, for Solon 
 would never otherwise have said, " Go, bid my 
 Critias, with his yellow locks, to listen to his father." 
 Such, then, are the witnesses on the subject of the 
 past. But, respecting the future, we have also 
 soothsayers ; thus Themistocles insisted that they 
 were to engage by sea, alleging the expression the 
 wooden waU^. Moreover, proverbs also are testi- 
 monies, according to what has been stated above'; 
 as, if one were going to advise another not to make 
 an old man his friend, the proverb testifies to that 
 point, "Never benefit an old man ;" also as to the 
 taking oiF the children whose parents one has slain, 
 "Foolish is he who having slain the father shall 
 
 5 IIpotr^aToi seems to imply viv^ voce witnesses, those from 
 whom oral testimony may be gained, and perhaps for that 
 reason applied to signify modern in general. 
 
 " See Herodotus, Polymnia, 143. 
 
 ' That is, according to his declaration that any known de- 
 cisions of illustrious persons might be of service in proof. 
 Now proverbs have the advantage of being universally known, 
 and are acquiesced in by all as the decisions of men of 
 prudence at least. Vater explains the passage differently: 
 vid. Animadv. 
 
CHAP. XV.] RHETORIC. 97 
 
 leave the son behind*." Modern witnesses are 1.5. Mo- 
 all those people of note who have passed an opi- '^'=™ '^^ 
 nion on any point ; tor these their opinions are partake of 
 useful to those who are debating on the same ques- the risk, 
 tions ; as Eubulus, for instance, in the trial against 
 Chares, availed himself of that saying of Plato, in 
 reference to Archibius, that "the avowal of being 
 wicked has gained ground in the city." . Also those 
 who participate the risk, should they appear to falsify. 
 Witnesses, however, of this class, prove merely such 16. and 
 points as these; whether the fact has or has not onlytesti- 
 taken place ; whether it be in existence or not ; but fo^t 
 as to the further question of its character, they are not 
 at all witnesses ; on the questions, for instance, whe- 
 ther a thing be just or unjust, expedient or preju- 
 dicial. But witnesses who are at a distance' are 17. 
 very credible, even touching questions of this nature. 
 But ancient witnesses are of supreme credibility '", Most an- 
 because they are beyond the reach of corruption. „j™t^^ 
 But in reference to testimony the following may be aible. 
 adduced as confirmations of proof, by the orator, Argu- 
 namely, who has no witnesses : it should be insisted ments for 
 that the judge ought to decide from probabilities, has no 
 and that this is the spirit of his oath, " to the best witnesses: 
 of his judgment." Let him also say that it is im- 
 possible to lead probability astray on the score of 
 money ; and that probability never is detected bear- 
 ing false testimony. But it must be urged by him and for 
 who lias vsdtnesses, against him who has them not, ^ '"^° 
 that neither is probability amenable to trial; and 
 that there would be no need at all of offering testi- 
 mony, if it were enough to consider matters on the 
 ground of reasonings only. And testimony is partly 18. Testi- 
 
 ' Vid. Herodot. i. 155. Cyms is apprehensive of constant 
 annoyance if he should not enslave the Lydians : — o/xoi'ms yag 
 fioi vvv ye (paivofjLaL 'KtiroLr]Kivai, lii^ £t Tis ira-ripa diroKTEivas, 
 Ttoi/ TraiSojv auTov distffaLTO. ^ ^ 
 
 ' By the oi dirMtv he should seem to imply both oi vaXawi, 
 and oi iKT^s irpoa-tpaTof the first removed hy time, the last by 
 their being unconcerned in the present question, which may be 
 considered in one sense as a distance in point of interest at least. 
 
 ^^ To £«: TToSaili out' avTiiriir-rzL Koi TsrtfitjTaL dipQavus. 
 Gregor. Naz. h Stix- Hooker, vol. ii. p. 26. 
 H 
 
98 ARISTOTLE'S [book i. 
 
 either for in reference to one's self, partly in reference to the 
 oii'^'s self adversary ; partly to fact, partly to moral character, 
 versajy! ' Insomuch that it is plain that we can never be at a 
 loss for testimony to suit our purpose ; for if there 
 be not at hand any such testimony, bearing on the 
 case itself, as is either admitted on our own part, or 
 opposed to our adversary, we still may have enough, 
 bearing on the subject of moral character, with a 
 view either to our own excellence of character, or 
 
 19. our adversary's depravity. Whatever else we allege 
 on the subject of witnesses, as to their being friendly, 
 inimical, or indifferent, of good character, or bad, or 
 neither particularly, and whatever other distinctions 
 of this kind there happen to be, must be alleged from 
 the same places out of which we adduce enthymems. 
 
 20. But on the subject of Deeds, pleading is useful so 
 3rd. far as regards enhancing or depreciating their au- 
 
 ^^ ■ thority, or showing them to be valid, or void ; in show- 
 ing, if they exist on your own side, that they are de- 
 serving credit and valid ; if, however, they be on your 
 21. To "be adversary's side, in showing the contrary. Now in 
 treated as order to set them out as deserving credit or undeserv- 
 Argu- ing it, there is no difference from the process respect- 
 nients for ing witnesses. For of whatever characters those who 
 hS'them ^^'^^ Subscribed, or had the custody" of the deeds, 
 on his happen to be, of the same authority will the deeds 
 side. themselves also be. When, however, the deeds are 
 acknowledged to have been made, we must, in case 
 they be on our side, aggrandize their authority ; for 
 a deed is law, private and particular '2. And deeds 
 
 " Thus it is one of the arguments in favour of the validity of 
 the prophecies of our Saviom''s coming, that they are con- 
 tained in books of which the Jews, who are the enemies of 
 Christianity, had the custody. See Home's Sermon on " The 
 case of the Jews." 
 
 "* Law is essentially diatinguished from deeds or private 
 compacts, in that it is a rule ; " for a compact is a promise 
 proceeding from us, law is a command directed to vs. The 
 language of a compact is, ' I will, or will not, do this ; ' that of 
 a law is, ' Thou shalt, or shalt not, do it.' It is true there is 
 an obligation which a compact carries with it, equal in point 
 of conscience to that of a law ; but then the original of the 
 obligation is different. In compapts we ourselves determine 
 
CHAP. XV.] RHETORIC. 99 
 
 do not make valid the law, but the law makes valid 
 those deeds which are conformable to law. And, in 
 short, the law is itself a sort of deed ; so that who- 
 ever casts discredit on, or does away deeds, does away, 
 in fact, with law. Moreover the greater part of the 22. 
 bargains of men, and their voluntary transactions, are 
 carried on by means of deeds : so that if these become 
 invalid, the intercourse of mankind with each other 
 is subverted. And it is easy enough to discover what 23. Argu- 
 other topics are adapted to the purpose. But should ^^*^^? 
 the deeds be opposed to you, and on the side of your has them 
 adversary, these arguments will be to your purpose : not on his 
 — ^first, those with which one would contend against 
 a law which made against him ; for it is absurd if we 
 think we are not bound to obey the laws, unless well 
 enacted, and if the legislators have been guilty of mis- 
 taking their point, but yet hold it necessary to abide 
 by mere deeds. Next to argue that the judge is an 24. 
 arbiter of what is just, that he ought therefore to re- 
 gard, not the matter of the deed, but something par- 
 taking more of justice. And that it is not possible to 
 alter what is just, either by fraud or force ; for it has 
 an existence in the nature of things '■' : deeds, how- 25. 
 ever, are made both by persons who are imposed on, 
 and those who are compelled to make them. Observe, 
 moreover, whether it be in opposition to any written 
 law, or any universal principle of right, and to the 
 principles of justice and honour; whether again it 
 be opposed to other later or earlier deeds ; for either 
 the later are valid, and the earlier invahd ; or the 
 earlier are correct, and the later have been obtained 
 by stratagem ; urging whichever of these cases may 
 happen to suit the purpose. Have an eye moreover 
 to the matter of expediency, whether the deed stand 
 in any respect in the way of the judges, and every 
 other such consideration, for these may also be easily 
 discovered. 
 
 and promise what shall be done, before we are obliged to do 
 it ; in laws we are obliged to act without ourselves determining 
 or promising any thing at all." Biackstone, Comment. Introd- 
 5 2 p. 45. '^ Vid. Ethics. 
 
 H 2 
 
100 . ARISTOTLE'S Lbook i. 
 
 26. Torture is a kind of evidence, and appears to carry 
 
 4th. Tor- -j^j-jj jt absolute ci-edibility, because a kind of con- 
 k£(l^f straint is applied. Now, it is not at all difficult re- 
 evidence.' specting this to discern those considerations which 
 When on the Cause admits of, and to set them forth ; out of 
 our side, ^hich, should the torture be on our side, it is possi- 
 ble to enhance its value, by insisting that of all evi- 
 "WTien dence this alone is true. Should it be, however, op- 
 against posed to us, and on the side of our adversary, one 
 may do away with the very truth, by declaiming 
 against every sort of torture ; for that men, when 
 constrained, speak falsehood no less than truth, and 
 will persist in not speaking the truth ; and will easily 
 falsify, as being likely the sooner to get off: '* and 
 one ought to have it in his power to allege, over and 
 above all these considerations, some actual instances, 
 which the judges are acquainted with, besides topics 
 such as I have described. 
 
 27. On the subject of oaths we may make a four-fold 
 5J'V, division ; for a party either tenders an oath, and ac- 
 four-fo'ld cepts it ; or he does neither ; or he does the one, and 
 division not the Other ; that is, he either tenders, but does 
 "" • J not accept it ; or accepts, but does not tender it.'^ 
 
 ii! Moreover, it may happen in a different way from this 
 iii- still, supposing the oath to have been previously 
 '^" taken by this or that party. 
 
 28. 1. Now, an advocate does not tender an oath on 
 1. When jjjg ground that men easily forswear themselves ; and 
 
 tiiG orsvtor o •' 
 
 refuses to because the other party will take it, and never repay ; 
 
 tender but that he is of opinion that the iuderes, if his ad- 
 theoath. ^ J B ' 
 
 '■* The Pandects (lib. xlvlii. tit. xviii.) contain the senti- 
 ments of the most eminent civilians on the subject of torture. 
 They confine it to slaves; and Ulpian acknowledges, that 
 " Res est fragilis, et periculosa, et qiiEe veritatem fallet." 
 
 " However strangely this wrangling for the administration 
 of oaths may sound, at the present day, when they are uni- 
 formly insisted on, yet in the early periods of our own history 
 the evidence for accused persons against the king could not be 
 examined on oath, — nor till the reign of Anne could any one 
 accused of felony produce witnesses on oath. Edin. Review, 
 No. Ixxxix. Art. 3, p. 79, 80. It was not till so late as the 
 reign of Anne, that the English courts were authorized to ad- 
 minister an oath to persons called by a prisoner on his defence. 
 
CHAP. XV.] RHETORIC. 101 
 
 versary does not take the oath, will give a verdict 
 against him : that he esteems the risk which depends 
 on the judges the preferable one, for in them he re- 
 poses confidence, but in his adversary, none. 
 
 2. But an advocate declines accepting it on the 29. 
 ground of its being an oath for a pecuniary object ; "■ ^^n 
 and because, if he were a worthless fellow, he would to accept 
 forswear himself without more ado ; since it were it. 
 better surely to be a villain for some object, rather 
 
 than for none ; for if he but take the oath, he vdll ' , 
 gain his cause, if he decline taking it, he will not. 
 Thus, then, his not taking it will be from virtuous 
 motives, not from fear of forswearing himself; here, 
 too, the saying of Xenophanes is in point, viz. that 
 this sort of appeal, made by an impious man to a 
 pious, is not fair, but is just such an one, as if a ro- 
 bust fellow were to challenge an infirm man, either 
 to strike him, or to get beaten himself. 
 
 3. If, however, he accepts it, the advocate alleges 30. 
 
 that he feels confidence in himself, but none in his ^- ^^<^n 
 adversary. Let him also declare, inveifting the saying jj^ "'^'^^ ^ 
 of Xenophanes, that it is fair enough if the impious 
 man tenders the oath, and the pious man takes it ; 
 also, that it is surely a strange thing that a man 
 should be unwilling himself to take an oath, in a 
 question about which he calls on the judges to give 
 their verdict on oath. 
 
 4. If, however, he tenders the oath, let him insist 31. 
 that a willingness to intrust the question to the gods j^' ^'^'^ 
 is a matter of piety ; and that his adversary need jj 
 
 call on no other judges, since he throws the decision 
 of the case into his own hands ; and that an unwill- 
 ingness to take an oath, in a question about which 
 he calls upon other people to swear, is absurd. 
 
 Now, as it is thus plain how we are to speak in 32. Argn- 
 reference to .each [of the four simple cases], it will ^'oi^ f™ 
 also be plain how we are to speak when taking them taken con- 
 conjointly ; supposing, for instance, either that your- jointly. 
 self are willing to take the oath, but not to tender it ; 
 or, if you tender it, but are not willing to take it ; or 
 if you are inclined both to take it and to tender it ; 
 
102 ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. [book i. 
 
 or to do neither; for these cases must be made lip of 
 those above mentioned, so that our reasonings must 
 also be made up of those above stated. 
 Argu- But if a former oath, and that contradictory of 
 
 STypre^ J^™^ present, has been taken by yourself, you have 
 viousoath to make out that it is not perjury ; for injustice is 
 has been essentially voluntary, and perjury is injustice; but 
 that which is done under constraint, or deceit, is 
 33. Per- involuntary, [and therefore not unjust.] Here then 
 i^"^- vre may introduce the saying about perjury, viz. 
 " that it is a thing not of the tongue, but of the 
 mind." If, however, an oath of this description shall 
 have been taken by your adversary, declare, "that 
 he who abides not by what he has sworn to, subverts 
 every thing which is established ; for this is the rea- 
 son that judges administer the law only on oath:" 
 exclaim, too, " that these men are calling on you, 
 judges, to abide by those oaths, by virtue of taking 
 which you give your verdict ; and do they not them- 
 selves abide by them ? " And whatever else one may 
 allege in way of amplification. So much, then, for 
 the subject of proof not originated by art. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Tlie necessity of investing the Judge with u favourable 
 feeling. 
 
 The materials, then, from which we must exhort 1. Discus- 
 and dissuade, praise and blame, accuse and defend, sionofthe 
 the notions also and propositions, useful in order to T-iTiTsEi'" 
 render these points credible, are those [which we 'rov\i- 
 have discussed] : for respecting these questions, and V""'^"^- 
 out of these sources, are enthymems deduced, so that 
 an orator, thus provided, may speak on each separate 
 department of questions. But as rhetoric has in 2. 
 view the coming to a decision (for in deliberative 
 oratory,- the assembly arrive at decisions ; and the 
 sentence of a court of justice is ipso facto a decision) ; 
 it is necessary to look not only to your speech, in 
 what way that will be of a character to convince and 
 persuade, but also to invest yourself with a certain 
 kind of character, and the judge with a certain kind 
 of feeling. For it is a point of great consequence, 3. 
 particularly in deliberative ' cases ; and, next to these, 
 in judicial ; as well that the speaker seem to be a man 
 of a certain character, as that his audience conceive 
 bim to be of a certain disposition toward themselves; 
 moreover it is of consequence if your audience chance 
 to be themselves also disposed in a certain way. 
 
 ■ Those subjects about wMch deliberative oratory is con- 
 cerned, least of all admit any thing like absolute certainty, for 
 ■we can only form conjectures of what -will be from what has 
 been ; and Aristotle has already told us, " that men lend a 
 readier and more implicit belief to the good on all questions 
 whatsoever ; but on those whose nature precludes our arriving 
 at certainty, but compels us to remain in doubt, we rely en- 
 tirely on them." Book i. chap. ii. § 4. 
 
104 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book II. 
 
 5. Three 
 
 requisites 
 
 for the 
 
 orator's 
 
 gaining 
 
 belief. 
 
 i. (jipovrj- 
 
 ii. dpzTrj- 
 iii. tui/ota. 
 
 7. The 
 
 4. Now, as to a speaker's appearing to be himself of a 
 certain character, this point is more available in de- 
 liberations : but the disposing the auditor in a certain 
 way, in judicial cases ; for things do not show them- 
 selves in the same light to persons affected by love 
 and by hatred, nor to those under emotions of anger, 
 as to those who are disposed to placability ; but they 
 appear either utterly different in character, or at least 
 different in degree. For to a judge who is affected 
 by love toward the party respecting whom he pro- 
 nounces his decision, that party appears either not at 
 all to be unjust, or to be so in a very trivial degree. 
 To a judge, however, who is affected by hatred, the 
 case has a contrary appearance. So also to a person 
 who is eager and sanguine, the proposed object, if 
 pleasant, takes the appearance, as well of being likely 
 to accrue, as of being likely to prove really a good ; 
 while by one who is indifferent and reluctant, the 
 opposite view is taken. 
 
 Now, there are three causes of a speaker's deserv- 
 ing belief ; for so many in number are the qualities 
 on account of which we lend our credit, independent- 
 ly of proof adduced ; and these are prudence, moral 
 excellence, and the having our interests at heart ^; 
 (for men are fallacious in what they allege or advise 
 by reason, either of all, or some, of these causes ; for 
 either, from want of ability, they do not rightly ap- 
 prehend the question ; or, rightly apprehending it, 
 from their depravity, they do not tell you what they 
 think ; or, being men both of ability and moral ex- 
 cellence, they have not your interests at heart, on 
 which account it is possible they should not give you 
 the best advice, though fully known what is best ;) 
 and besides these there is no other : it follows there- 
 fore, of course, that the speaker who appears to pos- 
 sess all these qualities, is considered by his audience 
 as deserving credit'. Now the means by which men 
 
 ' See Pericles's defence of himself, Thucyd. ii. 60; and 
 above, book i. chap.viii. § 6. 
 
 ' A celebrated scholar of the present day, after having de- 
 scribed the eloquence of Mr. Fox, as remarkably characterized 
 
CHAP. I.] RHETORIC. 105 
 
 may appear virtuous and prudent, are to be derived two first 
 
 from what has been laid down on the subject of the discussed 
 
 virtues ; for it is by help of the very same things, 
 
 that an orator may invest himself, and any one else, 
 
 in a certain character. The subject of feeling an in- 8. The 
 
 terest, and of friendliness, must be discussed in my ^*^^ *° 
 , . /» , . ' . , „ / oe known 
 
 treatise oi the passions, commencing henceiorth. by the 
 
 Passions'* however are, all emotions whatsoever, on emotions, 
 
 which pain and pleasure are consequent, by whose ^^^j 
 
 operation, undergoing a change, men differ in respect therefore 
 
 to their decisions : for instance, anger, pity, fear, ^^ '=™" 
 
 and whatever other emotions are of such a nature, 
 
 and those opposed to them. But it will be fitting to 9. The 
 
 divide what I have to say, respecting each, into three discussion 
 
 .J ,. . -J ^- 1} IS divided 
 
 considerations ; to consider, respecting anger, tor ex- ^^^ ^-^^^ 
 
 ample, how those who are susceptible of anger are heads in 
 affected; with whom they usually are angry; and "J^U'^- 
 on what occasions. For, granted that we be in pos- i. 
 session of one, or even two of these points, and not ii; 
 of them all, it wUl be impossible for us to kindle ™' 
 anger in the breast ; and in the case of the rest of the 
 passions in a similar way. In the same way, then, 
 as on the subjects treated of above I have separately 
 drawn up the several propositions, so let me do in re- 
 spect of these also, and make my distinctions ac- 
 cording to the manner specified. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Persons against wJwm Anger is felt, and hy whom, and why. 
 
 Let anger be defined ^ to be " a desire accompanied i. .ABser___ 
 by pain of a revenge which presents itself, on ac- defined?~~~ 
 
 by irlaTii rjBLKfi, proceeds thus — " Hac de causa, quos audienti 
 mihi motus adiibere voluit, iUi semper in animo oratoris im- 
 press! et inusti esse videbantur." Parr's Pref. to Bellenden, 
 p. 12, edit. 1787. 
 
 ■• The definition, given more briefly in the Ethics, is " ols 
 EirsTai fiSovri fl Xuttij." Eth. Nich. ii. 5. 
 
 1 "Ope£is ai/TiXuirno-Eois. Eth, Nich. 
 
106 ARISTOTLE'S [book a. 
 
 count of an apparent slight from persons acting to- 
 ward one's self, or some of one's friends, unbecom- 
 
 2. Anger ingly." Now, if anger be this, it must be that he 
 ^J^}* who is affected by anger, is so affected invariably to- 
 t£e iudi- wards some individual (for instance, towards Cleon), ' 
 vicinal, but not towards mankind^, generally : and this, be- 
 not the pause the individual has already wrought some indig- 
 nity, either on himself or some of his friends, or in- 
 
 Is attend- tends doing so. It must be also that there is a sort 
 edwith Qf pleasure consequent on all anger, arising out of 
 p easnie. ^j^^ j^^^^ ^^ avenging one's self; for the idea of at- 
 taining what one desires is pleasant ; and no one is 
 desirous of objects which appear impracticable to him ; 
 and he who is under the affection of anger is desirous 
 of objects which appear practicable to him. "Where- 
 fore it has been happily remarked of anger, that it is, 
 " Far, far too dear to every mortal breast, 
 Sweet to the soul, as honey to the taste'." 
 
 Because a sort of pleasure is consequent on it, as well 
 on this account, as because men linger in thought on 
 compassing revenge. Now the phantasy which then 
 arises excites a pleasure within us, as do the phanta- 
 
 3. "We sies of dreams. But as a slight is the operation of an 
 feel anger opinion conceived of an object which appears not 
 count of a worth consideration (for we esteem things absolutely 
 supposed bad, and those which are good, and what conduces to 
 slight. them, to be worth some consideration ; that however 
 
 which is mere nothing, or absolutely trivial, we con- 
 Three ceive worth none). There are three species of slight, 
 species of ^cOTitem£t,jKjaaJiQusness,-ajad^aatumd^ for he who 
 i" KKTa-"' manifests contempt is guilty of a slight, since men 
 ippouttins. contemn whatever they think worth nothing, and 
 u. ETTups- -what is worth nothing, they slight. Again, he who 
 al'^Cftjis. is vexatious appears to contemn, for vexatiousness is 
 4. a thwarting another's wishes, not that any thing may 
 
 accrue to the person himself who so impedes, but in 
 
 ^ Compare lib. i. u. xi. § 9, oii^zli yap dpyf^z-rai tw d^v- 
 vaTWy K. T. \, 
 
 ^ Compare book i. chap. xi. § 13 ; and also book i. chap. x. 
 6 17. This is expressed in the Ethics, lib. iii. o. viii. Kai oi 
 avdptoTroi df} dpyi'^OfiEVOL fikv ctXyoDo't, Tifjujopovfizvoi 5' Tibomat, 
 
 ■* Pope's translation of Homer. 
 
CHAP. 11.] RHETORIC. 107 
 
 order tbat something may not accrue to that other. 
 Since, then, he slights not with a view to any ad- 
 vantage to himself, it is plain that he conceives you 
 can neither hurt him, (for, if he did, he would be 
 afraid, and would not be guilty of slight,) nor can 
 benefit him in any respect worth mentioning, since 
 he would otherwise hold you in consideration, in order 
 to become your friend.' He, too, who acts contume- 5. 
 liously manifests slight ; for contumely is the doing 
 and saying those things about which the person who 
 is the subject of this treatment, has feelings of deli- 
 cacy, not with a view that any thing should accrue 
 to himself, other than what arises to him in the act, 
 but in order that he may be gratified ; for they who 
 requite an injury, do not act contumeliously, but take 
 revenge. Now the cause of the pleasure felt by those 6. 
 who act contumeliously, is that, by injuring, they 
 conceive themselves to be more decidedly superior : 
 on which account young men and the rich are given 
 to contumely, for in manifesting the contumely, they 
 conceive themselves superior. To contumely belongs 
 the withholding of respect ; but he who withholds 
 respect, manifests slight ; for that which is of no 
 value, is held in no consideration, either good or bad. 
 On which principle Achilles, in his anger, says, " He 
 hath withheld from me respect, for he hath seized 
 and possesses my prize himself, having taken it from 
 me." And again, " Like some unregarded vaga- 
 bond ; " as though he were, on this account, affected 
 by anger. Now people think it becoming that they 7. 
 should be looked up to by their inferiors, whether 
 in birth, power, or moral excellence, or generally 
 speaking, in whatever respect one may happen to be 
 
 * It is an essential feature of vexatlousness, and in fact of 
 every species of slight, that there is a total absence of any self- 
 ish motive on the part of him who offers it ; the appearance of 
 any such motive having actuated him, would be a salvo to the 
 pride of him who is made the subject of such treatment ; but 
 to be exposed to an opinion that one is utterly beneath con- 
 sideration (£o'f a TEpi TO jutiSe!/os af iok tj>a.ii>6fi.i.mv), is a reflec- 
 tion to which no person, actuated by the common feelings of 
 our nature, ever can submit. 
 
108 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 much superior : thus the rich man thinks to be looked 
 up ,to by the poor, in regard to money ; also the man 
 who has a faculty of speaking, by him who is desti- 
 tute of it, in the case of speaking ; and he who thinks 
 himself worthy to bear office, by him who deserves 
 to be subject to rule. Whence it has been said, 
 
 " Beware ! for dreadful is the -wrath of kings :" 
 and in another place, 
 
 " 'Tis sure the mighty ^111 revenge at last :" 
 
 for they feel indignant by reason of their superiority. 
 8. Moreover [men think it becoming that they should 
 be looked up to] by those at whose hands they think 
 they ought to receive good ; and these are such as 
 they have beneiited, or continue to benefit, whether 
 in their own persons, or as instruments of any one, 
 and whom any of their relatives have benefited, or 
 wish, or did wish to benefit. 
 9. With 1. From hence it is by this time manifest both un- 
 what feel- ^gj. Tjyjjat afiections as regards themselves, and with 
 how'stta- what objects, and for what reasons, men feel anger, 
 ated, men For as regards themselves, it is when they happen to 
 are angry. ^^ aggrieved, since he who is aggrieved is anxious 
 for something. Now a man [will feel thus aggrieved], 
 as well on any person's clashing with him in regard 
 to any object, directly; when he is thirsty, for exam- 
 ple, in regard to drinking : as also should they not 
 directly clash, yet will he appear to do the same thing ; 
 and if a person thwarts, or does not co-operate with 
 one, and if a person annoys one in any respect, when 
 thus circumstanced, one feels anger against all these, 
 10. On which account people who are ill, in poverty, love, 
 thirst, in a word, who are under desire, and fail of 
 success, these all are fretful and irritable, and parti- 
 cularly with those who slight their present condition : 
 the sick man, for example, is annoyed by those who 
 slight him in regard to his disease : the poor man too, 
 with those who do so in regard to his poverty ; and 
 the warrior, in regard to war ; the lover, in regard to 
 love ; and in other cases similarly, for each one has 
 the way paved to the feeling anger in each case, by 
 
CHAP. II.] RHETORIC. 109 
 
 the passion which exists in his mind. Again, a man li. 
 is nettled should he happen to be expecting the very 
 opposite of what results ; for that pains one more 
 deeply which falls out very unexpectedly ; just in the 
 same ratio as that which is very unexpected de- 
 lights, should it be what one wishes for. On which 
 account seasons, times, dispositions, and ages, which 
 class of them are readily excited to anger, and when, 
 and how, will be plain from this which I have said ; 
 also it will be plain that they are then excited with 
 greater readiness, when more immediately influenced 
 by these circumstances. As then regards the persons 
 themselves, under these dispositions it is that they 
 are readily excited to anger. 
 
 2. But people feel anger towards those who laugh 12. To- 
 at them excessively, and gibe, and scoff at them, for '^^'^^ 
 these treat them with contumely ; with such also as men feci 
 hurt them in all particulars, of such a nature as are anger, 
 tokens of contumely : these of course must be such as 
 neither are in requital for any thing, or beneficial to 
 those who are the agents ^; for this is enough to make 
 it appear to be an act solely of contumely : towards 13. 
 those also who underrate and despise what themselves 
 take a warm interest in ; thus all those who are fond 
 of philosophy, are angry if any one undervalues phi- 
 losophy ; so, too, they who embrace the notion of an 
 universal idea'', are nettled if a person despises the 
 doctrine ; and as regards other things in a similar 
 manner. But all this will be felt much more keenly, 14. 
 if these persons suspect that the qualities so under- 
 rated do not really belong to them, or not completely, 
 or not firmly, or that they do not appear to belong to 
 them ; since, if they conceive themselves to be very 
 strong in the points on which they happen to be ral- 
 lied, they do not regard it^, and anger is felt to- 
 
 ^ Here also Aristotle maintains the absolute exclusion of any 
 thing like self-interest as characteristic of this species of oXi- 
 ytapta. See note on the last chapter. 
 
 ' Alluding to Plato's doctrine of ideas, which Aristotle him- 
 self so warmly controverted. See Eth. Nich. i. 6. 
 
 5 See chap. iv. § 14, where he says, we are fond of those 
 who praise us on points where we esteem ourselves weak. 
 
110 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 wards friends, in a greater degree tlian towards such 
 
 15. as are not friends ; because people conceive it to be 
 more fitting to receive good at their hands than not : 
 
 16. also towards those who have been in the habit of 
 honouring or bestowing consideration on them, if, 
 on the contrary, they do not keep on the same terms 
 with them ; because people conceive themselves de- 
 spised by them, for otherwise they would do as be- 
 
 17. fore. Towards those also who do not requite a kind- 
 ness, or who do not return an equivalent, towards 
 those also who thwart them, if they be inferiors ; for 
 these all appear to despise them, the latter as though 
 they were their inferiors, the former as though [the 
 
 18. kindness had been received] from inferiors. Men 
 feel it also in a greater degree towards persons of no 
 account, should they slight them ; for anger is sup- 
 posed to arise from a slight, and to exist towards 
 persons whose conduct misbecame them ; now it be- 
 comes inferiors to make no manifestation of slight. 
 
 19. Towards friends, anger is felt if they do not or speak 
 not well ; and still more so if they do the contraiy; 
 also if they should not perceive us to be in want, 
 just as the Plexippus^ of Antipho was angry with 
 Meleager ; for not to perceive this is a token of 
 slight, since in regard to those for whom we feel 
 
 20. deference, this does not escape our notice: towards 
 those also it is felt who exult in their misfortunes ; 
 and, in a word, towards such as are in good spirits 
 amid their misfortunes ; for this marks either a foe, 
 or one who manifests slight : towards those also who 
 do not care if they give us pain ; wherefore, men feel 
 anger towards those who announce evil tidings'". 
 
 21. Against those also is anger felt who either readily 
 , listen to, or scrutinize our failings ; for they resemble 
 
 persons who slight us, or who are our enemies ; since 
 
 a friend sympathizes with one, and all men, as their 
 
 22. To- peculiar failings are scrutinized, feel pain. More- 
 
 ' Plexippus was a brother of Althaea, Meleager's mother, 
 and a character in a play of Antipho's, now lost. 
 '" And the first bringer of unwelcome news 
 
 Hath but a losing office. Shakspeare. 
 
CHAP. II.] RHETORIC. Ill 
 
 over men feel anger towards those who slight them wards 
 
 in the presence of five descriptions of persons, viz. in those who 
 
 the presence of those whom they emulate, whom they tiifm y,^. 
 
 admire, by whom they are desirous of being ad- fore per- 
 
 mired, in whose presence they are alive to delicacy ^^^l^_ 
 
 of feeling, and before those who have a delicacy of scriptions. 
 
 feeling towards them ; if before these any one should i- Whom 
 
 slight them, they feel anger more sensibly : with l^^^ ''™"" 
 
 those also do men feel angry who slight them in such ii. "Whom 
 
 respects, as it is disgraceful for them not to stand up ^^?7 ad- 
 
 in defence of ; in regard to parents, for instance, or ^ By 
 
 children, wives, or persons in subjection : with those, whom 
 
 too, who make no return of favours ; fof the slight ^^J "^f^ 
 1 • 1.1 . i.Titobe ad- 
 
 then IS contrary to what is becoming : and with those mired. 
 
 who play off sarcasms upon them when seriously en- i^- Before 
 
 gaged ; for sarcasm has an air of contempt : also with ^gy^je 
 
 those who benefit others, if they do not also benefit sensible of 
 
 them ; since this also carries an air of contempt, the ^ehcate 
 
 not thinking them worthy what all are worthy of. ^_ Before 
 
 Also the letting a man escape our memory is a thing those who 
 
 very apt to provoke anger ; for example, the nearly ^^j^ '^ 
 
 forgetting even his name, since forgetfulness seems of feeling 
 
 to be an indication of slight ; because forgetfulness towaids 
 
 arises from disregard, and disregard is a kind of 23^™' 
 
 slight. Now, it has been told you against whom men 24. 
 
 feel anger, and under what dispositions, and why''. 25. 
 
 It evidently will be needful for an orator to work up 27] 
 
 his audience by his speech, into such a frame of mind 
 
 as that under which men are prone to anger, and his 
 
 adversary, too, as being obnoxious to that on account 
 
 of which men feel anger, and as being such an one as 
 
 people feel anger against. 
 
 " Vide this chapter, § 3. 
 
112 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book-ji. 
 
 2. Placa- 
 bifitvjte- 
 -fined. 
 rTo- 
 wards 
 whom 
 men are 
 placable. 
 
 5. The re- 
 pentant. 
 
 6. The 
 humble. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The Persons susceptible of Placability, also those towards 
 whom, and the occasions on which it is felt. 
 
 As the feeling anger is the opposite of being ap- 
 peased, and anger itself of placability, we must as- 
 certain with what dispositions men are placable, 
 towards whom they are thus affected, and by what 
 means they are appeased. Let placability, then, be 
 defined to be "asubsiding andappeasementof anger'." 
 Now, if men feel anger towards those who slight 
 them, and if slight be voluntary, it is plain that they 
 are placable in regard to those who do no such thing, 
 or who either do so, or appear to do so, involuntarily : 
 towards those also who wish the contrary of what 
 they do ; and those who behave in the same way 
 toward themselves also, for no one seems likely him- 
 self to be guilty of slight towards himself. Men 
 are thus disposed also towards such as acknowledge 
 and repent of their guilt ; for taking their feeling 
 of pain for what they have done as a punishment, 
 they are appeased: — there is proof of this in the 
 case of chastising servants ; for we chastise more vio- 
 lently those who contradict us, and deny their guilt ; 
 but towards such as acknowledge themselves to be 
 justly punished, we cease from our wrath ^; the rea- 
 son of which is, that the denial of what is evident 
 is a sort. of impudence, and impudence is slight and 
 contempt: therefore we are not alive to sense of 
 shame, in regard to those whom we despise very 
 much. Men are thus disposed also towards those 
 who humble themselves before them', and do not 
 
 ' This passion, different from all the others, supposes the 
 previous existence of another in the mind, the emotions of 
 which it may be said to allay more properly, than to be itself 
 an emotion. Rochefoucanlt, Maxim 328. 
 
 ^ ** A soft answer turneth away wrath." 
 
 " See the instance of Ahab's humiliation of himself, (1 Kings 
 xxi. 27,) and that of the Ninevites, (Jonah iii. 5, etc.,) to 
 which we may add David. 
 
CHAP. III.] RHETORIC. U3 
 
 contradict their imputations ; for they appear to ac- 
 knowledge themselves inferior ; but inferiors fear 
 us, and no one who fears is guilty of slight. But 
 the fact that anger ceases towards such as humble 
 themselves, even dogs evince by their not biting 
 those who sit as suppliants. Placability is also felt 7. Those 
 towards such as are earnestly attentive, where they ■*^^° "f^ 
 are themselves attentive ; for they think themselves to us. '™ 
 regarded with attention, and not despised : towards 
 such as \mbsequently to their manifesting slight] 8. 
 have gratified us in more important points, and with 
 those who implore us, and deprecate our anger ; for 
 these are more humble : towards those also, who 9. 
 are not given to contumely, nor to jeering one ; and 
 who do not manifest slight towards any one, or to- 
 wards those alone who are not good men, and not 
 towards such as we ourselves are. In a word, we 10. 
 should consider the subject of placability, from the 
 opposite of the doctrine of anger. Once more, it is "Wliomwe 
 felt towards those whom men fear, or have a delicacy *^^'"'- 
 toward ; for so long as they are thus affected, they 
 are not influenced by anger ; since it is impossible 
 to feel anger and fear at the same time. Again, 11. To- 
 people either do not feel anger at all, or feel it in a '"'^'''^ *^^ 
 less degree, towards those who have themselves act- 
 ed under the iniluences of anger ; for thfese appear 
 to have acted, not from any motive of slight ; for no 
 one who is angry with you slights you ; since slight 12. 
 is unattended by pain, anger, however, is so attend- 
 ed. Thus are they also disposed towards such as re- 
 gard them with respect. 
 
 It is evident, also, that men are placable, when in a In what 
 frame of mind contrary to the feeUng of anger ; thus situations 
 in amusements, in mirth, in festivity, amid rejoicings, apt to be 
 or a course of success and of gratification, oi', in a placable, 
 word, when in a state of freedom from pain, and amid ^gj^°(7 
 chastened pleasure and virtuous hope. Those, too, 
 who have suffered some time to elapse, and are not 
 fresh from the influence of anger ; for time makes 
 anger cease'*. Also vengeance previously taken on is. When 
 
 * Clean was aware of this when he exclaimed against a 
 I 
 
114 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 venge- one object allays the anger felt against another, even 
 ancehas if he be more violent. For which reason, Philocrates, 
 tej^en. when some one asked him " how it was, as the popu- 
 lace were enraged with him, that he did not make his 
 defence," very justly said, " I will not do it yet." — 
 "But when will you?" — "I will do it, when I see 
 some one else criminated." For people, after they 
 have exhausted their anger on some other object, 
 become placable ; which happened in the case of Er- 
 gophilus ; for the populace, though more indignant 
 with him than with Callisthenes, yet acquitted him, 
 because, on the day before, they had condemned Cal- 
 
 14. listhenes to death. Men are thus disposed if they 
 have convicted the object, and if he have suffered a 
 greater ill than they, with all their anger, would have 
 themselves inflicted; for -they think they have got- 
 ten, as it were, their revenge. Again, if they are 
 aware that they are themselves unjust, and suffer de- 
 
 15. servingly^; because anger is not felt at what is just; 
 for in that case men no longer conceive themselves 
 sufferers contrary to what is becoming ; but anger 
 was defined to be such a feeling. On which account 
 we should preface punishment with a sox't of lecture ; 
 for thus even slaves feel less indignant at being pun- 
 
 16. When ished. Moreover they are thus disposed, if they 
 
 is inseiS- conceive that the sufferer will not perceive that he is 
 
 ble. punished by them, and in return for what they have 
 
 have suffered ; for anger is felt against individuals : 
 
 second hearing of the Mitylensans ; — BavixaX^m ixh tSiu yfiovou 
 StaTpL^i^v kfxirOLr]fT6.VTU}v, o k(7TL irpos to)V ijStKiiKOTuiv fiaWov. 
 6 yap TraQwu Tto dpdcaVTL a^jSXuTfcpa Ty opyij kiTzJ^ip-^ETai., 
 Thucyd. iii. 38.' 
 
 ^povo's yap Ev/xapij^ 3'£os. Soph. Elec. 179, 
 ' Well illustrated in Richard the First's pardon of Bertrand 
 de Gourdon, on his death-bed : — " Wretch," said the king, 
 " what have I ever done to you to oblige you to seek my life ? " 
 " What have you done to me ? " coolly replied the prisoner ; 
 " you killed, with your own hands, my father and ray two 
 brothers; and you intended to have hanged myself," etc. 
 Richard, struck with the reasonableness of this reply, and 
 humbled by the near approach of death, ordered Gourdon to 
 be set at liberty, and a sum of money to be given to him. 
 Hume. 
 
CHAP. III.] RHETOEIC. 115 
 
 and this is plain from the definition. Hence is it 
 said in the poem with great propriety, " Go, say 'twas 
 Ulysses, subverter of cities," etc. ; as though the hero 
 had not been revenged, unless Polyphemus perceived 
 both by whom 8, and in return for what', he suffered. 
 So that men are not angry with any who are no longer 
 sensible ; neither any longer with those who are dead*, 
 as being persons who have endured the extremity of 
 suffering ; nor with those who will not be susceptible 
 of pain, nor feel the punishment inflicted, a point of 
 which those affected by anger are desirous. On 
 which account the poet, wishing to restrain Achilles 
 from his anger against Hector now that he is dead, 
 aptly says, " In his madness he is vexing a senseless 
 clod." It is evident that arguments must be deduced 17. How 
 from the topics here furnished, by those who would T^® "^ 
 appease their audience ; by working up the hearers pease the 
 themselves into feelings such as I have described ; audience. 
 and those with whom they are enraged, either as ob- 
 jects of fear, or as deserving reverence, or as persons 
 who have benefited them, or as having been involun- 
 tary agents, or as now exceedingly pained at what 
 they have done. 
 
 " Thus Gloucester, in Henry VI., 
 
 Down, down to hell, and say — I sent thee thither, etc. 
 ' Again, in the .^neid, the hero tells Tumus, 
 Pallas te hoc vulnere, Pallas 
 Immolat. 
 ^ Haca Suirfxtveia tlo pirn TOuTw trvvairoTtdETat. Synes. 
 Quoted in Hooker, v. § 7, vol. ii. p. 26. Compare Byron's 
 tragedy of the Two Foscari, act v. last scene : 
 
 Baebaeigo {to Loredano). — What art thou writing, 
 With such an earnest brow, upon thy tablets 1 
 LoEEDANO {pointing to the Doge's body). — That he haspajrf 
 me.* 
 
 * " L' ha pagata." An historical fact ; see History of Venice, by P. 
 Darus, p. 411, vol. ii. 
 
 I 2 
 
116 ARISTOTLE'S [book h. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The Characters towards wJwm men entertain friendhj feel- 
 ings, or hatred ; and the reasons why. 
 
 1. Let us discuss the characters towards whom men 
 bear friendly feelings, and hatred, and the reasons 
 why they do so ; setting out with a definition of 
 friendliness and the act of cherishing this feeling. 
 
 2. Deftui- Let the bearing friendly feeling, then, be defined to 
 * be "the wishing a person what we think good, for 
 
 his sake and not for our own, and, as far as is in our 
 power, the exerting ourselves to procure it." And a 
 friend is he who entertains and meets a return of this 
 feeling.' And those people consider themselves 
 friends who consider themselves to stand thus affected 
 towards each other. 
 
 3. To- / These considerations being laid down, of necessity 
 ■wards jt must be, that one who participates in another's joy 
 feel it. ^t good fortune, and in his sorrow at what aggrieves 
 
 him, not from any other motive, but simply for his 
 sake, is his friend. For every one, when that hap- 
 pens which he wishes, rejoices ; but when the con- 
 trary happens, all are grieved. So that the pain and 
 pleasure men feel are an indication of their wishes. 
 4. Those, too, are friends, to whom the same things are 
 become by this time good, and the same evil ; those, 
 too, who are friends and foes to the same persons, for 
 these must necessarily desire similar objects. So 
 that he who wishes for another what he does for 
 5. Bene- himself, appears to be a friend to that other. Men 
 factors. jQyg g^jgp ti;iose who have benefited either themselves, 
 or those for whom they have a regard ; whether in 
 important particulars, or with readiness^, and for 
 their own sakes, or those whom they deem willing to 
 6. benefit them. Again, people love the friends of their 
 friends, and such as clierish friendly feelings towards 
 
 ' Thus the feeling discussed in the Ethics is called EuVoia h 
 dfTiTrEirovdotrL fifj \attdavov(ra. Eth. Nich. viii. 2. 
 ' Bis dat, (jui cite dat. 
 
CHAP. IV. J RHETORIC. 117 
 
 those for whom they do themselves ; likewise those 
 who are loved by such as are beloved by themselves ; 
 those also who are enemies to the same people, and 7. 
 who hate those whom they hate themselves, and 
 those who are hated by those who also are hated by 
 themselves ; for to all these the same objects seem 
 good as to themselves ; so that they wish for things 
 which are good to them, both which were laid down 
 to be characteristic of a friend. Moreover men love^ 
 those who benefit them in regard to money matters, 
 and the security of life ; on which account people The brave 
 honour the liberal and brave. They love also the ^^ ^^^' 
 just, of which character they esteem those who do 9. The 
 not live at the cost of others, such are all who J"?*- 
 are supported by their bodily labour, and of these 
 are husbandmen, and among the rest handicraftsmen Hustaad- 
 in particular. They love also the temperate, for ™™- 
 they are not unjust ; and those who are disengaged 
 from business, for the same reason. We love also H. 
 those of whom we wish to become the friends, should 
 they appear to desire it also. Of this sort are those 
 who are good in respect to moral excellence, and 
 men of approved character, either among all men, or 
 among the best men, or those who are held in admir- 
 ation by ourselves, or who themselves admire us. 
 Again, we love those who are pleasant companions 12. Com- 
 for passing time, or spending a day withj of this panions, 
 description are the good-tempered, and such as are ^ "' 
 not fond of chiding those who err, and are not 
 quarrelsome or contentious^. For all people of this 
 sort are fond of dispute ; but such as are fond of 
 dispute give us the idea of desiring the opposite of 
 
 ' The character given by Clarendon of Sir Edward Herbert 
 (afterwards Earl of Montgomery), one of the favourites of 
 James I., seems to answer to Aristotle's description of a per- 
 son likely to conciliate friendship : — " He pretended to no 
 other qualifications than to understand horses and dogs very 
 well ; which his master loved him the better for, (being at his 
 first coming to England very jealous of those who had the re- 
 putation of great parts,) and to be believed honest and gener- 
 ous, which made him many friends, and left him np enemy." 
 Clarendon's History, vol. i. p. 59. 
 
118 AKISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 13. what we do. Also those who have a happy turn in 
 passing and taking a joke ; for both seem bent on the 
 same things as their neighbonrs, being able both to 
 endure being rallied and neatly rallying others'*. 
 
 14. Men love also those who praise their good qualities, 
 and particularly such as they apprehend not to belong 
 
 15. Those to them : also those who are neat in their appearance, 
 neat in tjjejr dress, and their whole manner of living. Also 
 16. those who do not reproach them with errors, nor 
 their own benefits ; for both these descriptions of 
 17. The people have an air of reproving them. People admire 
 forgiving, also those who forget old grievances ; and who do 
 not treasure up grounds of quarrel, but are easily re- 
 conciled ; because of whatever disposition they show 
 themselves towards others, people naturally think they 
 
 18. will prove to be of towards themselves also : as also 
 those who do not talk scandal, nor inform themselves 
 of the ills either of their neighbours or themselves, 
 but of their good points only ; for this is the con- 
 
 19. duct of a good man. We are friendly disposed also 
 towards those who are not at cross purposes with 
 us when angry, or seriously engaged ; for all such 
 people are fond of dispute : towards those also who 
 comport themselves seriously towards us ; thus, for 
 instance, those who admire us, or consider us worthy 
 
 20. men, and take a pleasure in our society, and who are 
 thus affected in regard particularly to points about 
 which ourselves are desirous to be admired, or to ap- 
 
 21. pear excellent or agreeable : as also towards our 
 equals?, and those who have the same objects in view, 
 supposing they do not clash with us', and that their 
 livelihood arise not from the same profession, for thus 
 
 ' See Eth. Nich. iv. 8. 
 
 ° So long as we are imitated at a respectful distance : 
 Non ita certandi cupidns, (juam propter amorem 
 Quod te imitari aveo : Lucretius, iii. 5. 
 
 our pride is flattered; but when this imitation has been so suc- 
 cessfully continued as to resemble competition, our envy is 
 quickly awakened. To this point Rochefoucault well ob- 
 serves, — " Those who endeavour to imitate us we like much 
 better than those who endeavour to ejual us. Imitation is a 
 sign of esteem, but competition of envy." Maxims, No. 113. 
 
CEAP. IV.] RHETORIC. 119 
 
 arises an instance of the proverb, "Potter hates pot- 
 ter 8." We stand thus affected towards those also 22. Those 
 who are desirous of the same objects with ourselves, J^te us"" 
 and which it is possible for us to participate in as 
 well as them ; otherwise the same collision takes 
 place in this case : towards those also, in regard to 23. 
 whom men have themselves in such a way as, while 
 they do not hold them cheap, not to feel shame on 
 mere matters of opinion. With this feeling do peo- 24. 
 pie regard those also in respect to whom they feel 
 shame about matters really shameful : and those be- 
 fore whom they are studious to stand approved, and 
 by whom they wish to be emulated, yet without be- 
 ing envied, all these men either love as friends, or 
 wish to become their friends ; also those with whom 25. 
 they would co-operate toward some good, were it not 
 that greater ills are likely thereby to befall them- 
 selves : and such as regard with friendly feeling, the 26. Such 
 absent equally with the present; on which account ?f "^^ i 
 all love those who manifest this disposition in regard 
 to the dead. Also men entirely love those who are 
 particularly zealous for their friends and never aban- 
 don them ; for eminently beyond all the good, people 
 love those who are good as friends. They also love 27. The 
 those who do not dissemble towards them ; of this ^"^'^'^^'^■ 
 class are such as mention their own failings ; for it 
 has been said already, that before friends we feel no 
 shame about mere matters of opinion ; if, then, he 
 who is so ashamed has not the feelings of a friend, 
 the man who is without such shame bears a resem- 
 blance to one who has friendly feelings. Also we 
 love those who do not inspire us with fear, and be- 
 fore whom we feel confidence ; for no one loves a 
 person whom he fears ''. But the species of friend- 28. Three 
 ship are companionship, intimacy, relationship, and f°^^^^ 
 the like. And the efficient causes of friendship are ship. 
 gratuitous benefits, the rendering a service unsoli- 29. Causes 
 cited, and the not disclosing it after it has been ren- °l^^'^^' 
 
 ^ Two of a trade can ne'er agree. 
 
 ' There is no fear in love ; but perfect love casteth ovit fear. 
 I John iy. 18. 
 
120 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [bock ii. 
 
 30. 
 
 dered ; for thus done the favour appears to be solely 
 for the sake of your friend himself, and from no other 
 motive. 
 
 The subject of hatred, hovirever, and of bearing it, 
 may, it is plain, be considered by taking the contra- 
 ries. But the efficient causes of hatred are anger, 
 -vexatiousness, calumny. 
 
 1. Now anger ai'ises out of something which has 
 reference to ourselves ; hatred, however, even inde- 
 pendently of any thing having reference to ourselves, 
 tweenan- gince if we conceive a person to be of a certain de- 
 Satred scription, we bear hatred towards him. 2. And our 
 anger invariably has reference to individual objects, 
 as to Callias * or Socrates ; but hatred may be borne 
 even to whole classes; for every one hates the cha- 
 racter of a thief and an informer. 3. Again, the one 
 feeling is to be remedied by time ; the other is in- 
 curable. 4. Also the first is a desire of inflicting ^am 
 on its object, the last of doing him deadly harm; for 
 the angry man wishes to be felt^, to him who bears 
 hatred this matters not ; and all things wliich give 
 pain may be felt ; but what does harm in the highest 
 degree, is least capable of being felt, for instance, in- 
 justice and folly, for the presence of vice does not at 
 all pain [him to whom it is present]. 5. And anger is 
 attended by pain, hatred is not ; for he who is affect- 
 ed by anger is pained, but he who is affected by 
 
 ' Callias is attacked by Lueian in his dialogue, entitled 
 Tc/idiu fi Mi.n-avdpioiros, where Mercury, taxing Plutus with not 
 going to those who deserve riches, says, 'AplittsiStju KaTcCKLirmv 
 lirirovLKto Kal KaXXia TrpotTTfefs. p. 232, Scrip. Grffic. ; and 
 several times in Aristophanes. 
 
 * So chap. iii. § 16. It was remarked that a man who is 
 affected by anger does not consider that he has his revenge, 
 unless the object perceive both at whose hands, and in return 
 for what, he suffers. From this, as from many other of its 
 distinctive characteristics, auger will be confessed to be a 
 more generous passion than hatred. To this purpose Lord 
 Bacon well remarks, that " Some, when fliey take revenge, 
 are desirous the party should know whence it cometh : this is 
 the more generous ; for the delight seemeth to be not so much 
 in doing the hurt, as in making the party repent ; but base and 
 crafty cowards are like the arrow that fiieth in the dark." 
 Essays : Of Revenge. 
 
CHAP, v.] RHETORIC. 121 
 
 hatred is not. 6. The former, too, had many ills 
 hefallen the ohject of his anger, might be inclined to 
 pity him ; the latter would not, in any case ; for the 
 former wishes the object of his anger to suiFer in his 
 turn, the latter desires the extinction of the object of 
 his hate'". Out of these heads, then, it is plain that 32. These 
 the orator may both prove those to be friends and li^^^is *» 
 enemies who really are such, and render such those ^ ^sg_ 
 who are not, and may do away the assertions of 
 people on the subject, and may draw over those who 
 hesitate whether an act was done from motives of 
 anger or hatred, to whatsoever side he may fix on. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 The nature of Fear, and the objects which excite it, and the 
 dispositions under which men are afraid. 
 
 The sort of things which men fear, and the persons 1. Fear, 
 whom, and under what affections as regards them- deffieS; 
 selves, will thus become plain. Now, let fear be de- 
 fined to be " A sort of pain or agitation, arising out 
 of an idea that an evil, capable either of destroying 
 or giving pain, is impending on us." People do not 
 fear every evil ' ; for example, a man does not fear 
 lest he shall become unjust or stupid ; but people fear 
 all those evils whose effect is either a considerable 
 degree of pain, or destruction, and these, provided 
 they be not far removed, but give one the idea of 
 being close at hand, so as to be on the eve of hap- 
 pening 2; for they do not fear that which is very far 
 
 '» Quern oderunt, perisse expetunt. Ennius ap. Cic. de Off. 
 
 ' It is essential to that evil whicli is the ohject of fear, that 
 it seem qualified to destroy or inflict pain. It must he in fact 
 such an evil as anger would inflict, rather than -which hatred 
 "would. 
 
 * This is the description of evil against -wliich the brave 
 man must arm himself, or, in the language of the Ethics, 
 offa Qdvarov Eiri(piptL viroyvia ovra. Eth. Nich. iii. 6. 
 
122 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 off: for all know that they shall die ; but since the 
 
 event is not near, they pay no attention to it. 
 
 2. Objects If then fear be this, it must follow that aU those 
 
 which 00- things are to be feared which appear to possess great 
 
 power either of destroying, or of hurting, in points 
 
 whose tendency is toward considerable pain. On 
 
 which account even the symptoms of such things are 
 
 alarming, for the evil appears to be at hand ; since 
 
 this in fact is danger, viz. " the approach of what 
 
 S.Danger. excites fear." Of this description, however, are both 
 
 the hatred and the anger of those who have it in their 
 
 power to do us any harm ^; for it is evident that they 
 
 have both the will and the power, so that they are 
 
 4. In- not far from doing it. Also injustice, possessed of 
 justice. power ; for [it is evident that it does not want inclin- 
 ation to do harm] since it is from settled inclination 
 
 5. Insvdt- that the unjust man is unjust. Also insulted virtue, 
 ed virtue, invested with power ; for it is evident that, invaria- 
 bly, when it is insulted, it determines on a requital, 
 
 6. The and now it has the power of exacting one. The 
 fear of our fg^j, ^jgg (,£■ those who have the power of doing us 
 
 any harm, is itself an object to be dreaded ; for any 
 one, in such circumstances, will of course be pre- 
 pared against us. 
 
 7. But as men in general are depraved, and may be 
 prevailed on by gain, and are timid amid dangers; it 
 is, generally speaking, a fearful thing to be at the 
 
 Accom- disposal of another. So that accomplices in any 
 plices. deei of guilt are to be feared, lest either they should 
 
 8. denounce you, or abandon you to trial. Also those 
 who have the power to act unjustly, are always ob- 
 jects of fear to such as may be attacked by injustice ; 
 for, in nine cases out of ten, a man when he has the 
 power, perpetrates the injustice. Also those who 
 
 " Compare e. 19, § 19. See Dr. Johnson's motives for sup- 
 pressing some of Savage's remarks on the great : " What was 
 the result of Mr. S.'s inquiry, though he was not accustomed 
 to conceal his discoveries, it may not be entirely safe to relate, 
 because the persons whose characters he criticised are power- 
 ful; AND POWER AND RESENTMENT ARE SELDOM STRANGERS," 
 
 etc. Life of Savage, p. 336. 
 
CHAP, v.] RHETOHIC. 123 
 
 have been wronged'', or who conceive themselves to The 
 
 have been wronged ; for they are ever on the watch ^^""god 
 
 for an opportunity [of retaliating]. Also those who^ 
 
 have wronged others^, if possessed of power, are to; 
 
 be feared, from their apprehension of being retaliated 
 
 on ; for cases of this kind were laid down to be such' 
 
 as to excite alarm. Those, too, who are rivals for ^. Rifals 
 
 the same objects, and which it is not possible should 
 
 accrue to both, for people are ever at variance with 
 
 those towards whom they stand on this footing. 
 
 Those who are objects of fear to our superiors, are 
 
 also objects of fear to ourselves ; for much more will 
 
 they be able to injure us, than our superiors : and for 10. 
 
 the same reason [we needs must fear those] whom 
 
 our superiors fear^. Men dread those also who have 
 
 already annihilated persons superior to themselves ; 
 
 and those who have attacked their inferiors ; for, 
 
 either they are already deserving fear, or they will 
 
 become so by being aggrandized in power. And 11. 
 
 among those who have been wronged, or are enemies, 
 
 or opponents, it is not the passionate, and those who 
 
 speak their minds freely, who are to be dreaded ; but 
 
 the mild, the dissembling, and the insidious ; for they 
 
 give us to doubt, whether they be not close upon us, 
 
 so that they are never clearly known to be too far ofi 
 
 to reach us. theha^ty, 
 
 " " It is too common for those who have unjustly suffered 
 pain, to inflict it likewise in their turn with the same injustice, 
 and to imagine that they have a right to treat others as they 
 have themselves been treated." Ibid. p. 339. 
 
 * If the maxim of Tacitus be true — " Proprium humani in- 
 genii est odisse quern Iseseris ;" then surely Aristotle's position, 
 that they are to be feared, will follow as a corollary from it ; — 
 Quem metuunt oderunt, 
 
 Quem oderunt, perisse expetunt. Ennius apud Cic. de OfBc. 
 
 ^ Victorius, wishing to show thatthis is not " a distinction 
 without a difference," remarks, that by </)o^Epou<i, the term used 
 in the former case, we are to understand persons evidently 
 possessed of that which all the world knows to be dreadful : 
 whereas, in the latter case, Aristotle alludes to persons, whose 
 power not being quite so manifest, we fear only because we 
 see those people fear it, whose means of resistance are superior 
 to our own. 
 
 The mild 
 and dis- 
 sembling, 
 etc. : more 
 to be fear- 
 ed than 
 
124 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 12. Great- But all those circumstances which excite fear, have 
 est objects g^ gj-j^ greater tendency to do so, in respect of which 
 
 "*"■ should a man have committed a mistake, it is not pos- 
 sible for him to recover himself, but which either are 
 impracticable altogether, or which cannot be correct- 
 ed by himself, but by his enemies only : as have those 
 also which we have no means, or no easy means, of 
 Fear and averting. So that, to speak generally, all those things 
 r*'ir^'d^" ^""^ *° ^® feared, which, happening or being likely to 
 happen in the case of others, excite compassion. The 
 circumstances then of fear, and which men are alarm- 
 ed at, those at least of greatest importance, are, as I 
 may say, nearly those which I have enumerated : and 
 now let me state under what dispositions, as regards 
 themselves, men are susceptible of fear. 
 
 13. How Now, if fear be attended by an apprehension of 
 affected'' Suffering some destructive evil, it is plain that none 
 that feel of those who consider that they shall not suffer any 
 fear. thing, is subject to fear ; and that no one is subject 
 
 to it, in regard to those things which he does not con- 
 sider that he shall suffer ; nor in regard to those 
 persons at whose hands he does not apprehend any 
 thing ; nor at a time when he is without apprehen- 
 sions. It must follow, therefore, that those are sub- 
 ject to fear, who apprehend they shall suffer some- 
 thing, and this in regard to the persons at whose 
 hands, and the things which, and at the times when, 
 14. they so apprehend. But neither are those who are, 
 and who think themselves to be, in the midst of great 
 good fortune, at all apprehensive of suffering any 
 thing, (on which account they are contumelious, con- 
 temptuous, and rash ; but it is wealth, strength, 
 number of friends, power, which renders men of this 
 temper,) nor those who think that already they have 
 suffered the sum of all that is horrible', and whose 
 feelings have been chilled with respect to what awaits 
 them, just as those who have been already beaten on 
 the rack ; but [in order to the existence of fear] 
 there must needs arise some hope of safety, about 
 
 ■ Fuisset ; 
 
 Quem metui moritura ? JEa. iv. 603. 
 
CHAP, v.] RHETORIC. 125 
 
 which men feel the painful anxiety^; and this is a 
 proof of it, that fear makes men deliberate ; and yet 
 no one deliberates about that which is utterly hope- 
 less. So that, when it shall better serve our cause 15. 
 that the audience be affected by fear, we must set 
 ' them off as persons liable to suffer, inasmuch as others 
 ^ of greater power have suffered, and also to show that 
 I their equals are or have been exposed to sufferings ; 
 \and this, at the hands of persons from whom they 
 Would not have apprehended it, and such things, and 
 kt times when they would not have apprehended it. 
 
 But since on the subject of fear, it is plain what it 16. Confi- 
 is ; and on the subject of things exciting fear, and i^'^^ ^^' 
 also with what dispositions men experience it ; from 
 this it will be plain both what confidence is, and on 
 what points men are confident, and with what dis- 
 positions ; for both confidence itself is the opposite of 
 fear, and what inspires it is the opposite of what ex- 
 cites fear ; so that it is the hope of things conducive 
 to safety, accompanied by an idea that they are near ; 
 and of things to be feared, that they either do not 
 exist, or are at a distance. 
 
 But these are circumstances inspiring confidence ; 17. Cir- 
 to have danger afar off, and that in which we may 5™^^^ 
 confide, near : also means of recovering from, or of that cre- 
 averting loss, whether these be numerous, or valua- ^^ cocfl- 
 
 * Thus Seneca ; — " Desines timere, si sperare desieris." 
 " I hare often thought, that after a man has taken the resolu- 
 tion to kill himself, it is not courage in him to do any thing, 
 however desperate, because he has nothing to fear. When a 
 man, either from fear, or pride, or conscience, or -whateYer 
 motive, has resolved to kUl himself; -when once the resolution 
 is taien, he has nothing to fear. He may then go and take 
 the king of Prussia by the nose at the head of his army. He 
 cannot fear the rack who is resolved to kill himself. When 
 Eustace Budgell was waiting down to the Thames, determined 
 to drown himself, he might if he pleased, without any appre- 
 hension of danger, have turned aside and first set fire to St. 
 James's palace." — Boswell's Johnson, A. D. 1773; .St. 64. 
 Satan, in his address to the sun, says, — 
 
 So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear. 
 Farewell remorse ; all good to me is lost. 
 
 Par. Lost, lib. iv. 108. 
 
126 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book. II. 
 
 18. Per- 
 sons who 
 feel confi- 
 dence. 
 The suc- 
 cessful. 
 
 20. The 
 rich, etc. 
 
 ble, or both : again, should we never have been in- 
 jured, nor have ourselves injured others; also, if we 
 have no rival at all ; or should those we have, be de- 
 void of power ; or, supposing they have power, should 
 they be our friends ; or should they have benefited 
 us, or have been themselves benefited by us ; or 
 should those, to whom the same things are an object 
 as to ourselves, be more numerous than those to whom 
 they are not, or more powerful, or both at once. 
 
 But, as regards themselves, people feel confidence 
 when thus aifected : should they conceive themselves 
 to have been often successful, and this without hav- 
 ing suffered ; or should they often have fallen into 
 danger, and have escaped^: for there are two ways 
 in which men become dead to apprehension, either 
 from never having experienced, or from being pos- 
 sessed of resources against calamity; just as, in the 
 case of danger by sea, both those who never expe- 
 rienced a storm feel confidence as to the result, and 
 those who from their experience possess resources 
 19. against it. Men feel it also, when the case does not 
 alarm their equals, nor their inferiors, nor those to 
 whom they conceive themselves superior ; but they 
 conceive thus of those whom, either absolutely in their 
 own persons, or virtually in the persons of their su- 
 periors or of their equals, they have overcome. And 
 again, if they conceive there belong to themselves, in 
 greater number and degree, those things in which, 
 when they have the advantage, men are objects of 
 fear ; and these are, store of wealth, and strength in 
 respect to retainers, and friends, and territory, and 
 warlike preparation, either all together, or the most 
 
 ' It is on this topic that .^neas rests his consolation to his 
 distressed followers. 
 
 O socii, (neque enim ignari sumus ante malonim,) 
 
 passi graviora ; dabit Deus his quoque finem. 
 Vos et Scyllseam rabiem penitusque sonantes 
 Adcestis scopulos : vos et Cyclopia saxa 
 Experti. ^n. i. 198. 
 
 So Lord Byron in the Giaour : 
 
 Though far and near the bullets hiss, 
 
 1 've scaped a bloodier hour than this. 
 
CHAP. VI.] RHETORIC. 127 
 
 important of them. Also, if they have not wronged The inno- 
 any one, or not many, or not any of such a character '^™'- 
 as men are apprehensive of. And, in a word, if their 21. 
 account stands well with heaven, as well in other re- 
 spects, as in what regards omens and oracles'": be- 
 cause anger is a thing which inspires confidence ; 
 and the being free from the commission of injustice, 
 while you are wronged yourself, is productive of 
 anger ; and the deity is supposed to aid such as have 
 been ^v^onged. [Once more, people feel confidence] 22. Such 
 when, being the first aggressors, they think they can ^s think 
 suffer nothing, or shall not, or shall succeed at last, selves se- 
 And of the subject of what inspires confideuce and cui-e. 
 fear, we have spoken. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Touching what points men are alive to, or insensible to, 
 Delicacy of Feeling ; towards whom ; and, as regards 
 themselves, with ichat dispositions. 
 
 The points about which men feel delicate, or are in- 1. 
 sensible to such feehngs, and towards whom, and 
 with what dispositions, will be manifest from what 
 follows. Now, let sense of shame be defined to be 2. Deftni- 
 " a kind of pain and agitation about evils present, ^P" °^ 
 past, or to come, which appear to tend to loss of cha- -afjinpi: 
 racter." And impudence to be, " a sort of neglect denceT 
 and callousness about these points." 
 
 Now, if the sensibility defined be actually sensi- 3. The 
 bility to shame, it must follow that a man is affected oraasions 
 by it, on the occurrence of evils of a kind which ap- shame is 
 pear to be disgraceful, either to himself, or those for felt. 
 
 '» Aristotle is here giving us the reasons why the two last- 
 mentioned descriptions of persons are confident : those who 
 never injured any, because it is natural to them to feel anger, 
 which is in itself a source of confidence ; and those who are 
 well with heaven, from their reliance on the protection of the 
 gods. The last case is beautifully exemplified in the con- 
 fidence felt by Nicias in Sicily. 
 
128 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 whoin lie has a regard : and such are all results of 
 depravity whatsoever ; for example, the casting away 
 one's shield, or the turning to flight, for this pro- 
 Coward- ceeds from cowardice ; and the withholding a deposit ' 
 "'''• . from a person, for it is the result of injustice. And 
 ' that cohabitation with those with whom we ought 
 not, or where, or when we ought not, [is a source of 
 Intern- shame ;] for it is the result of intemperance : as is 
 perauce. ^Iso the deriving gain from paltry, mean, or imprac- 
 ,, ^- ticable sources, as from the poor, for instance, or 
 ness. from the dead ; whence also the proverb, " to pillage 
 
 even from the dead :" for it is the result of a sordid 
 
 6. hankering after lucre, and of meanness. It is also a 
 source of shame for a person, who has the means, 
 not to contribute his aid in money matters, or to do 
 so in a minor degree ; and for one to be assisted by 
 
 7. those in less easy circumstances than himself; and 
 for one to borrow himself, when his friend appears 
 to be asking a loan ; and to ask a further loan, when 
 he would recall a former ; and the recalling a former 
 loan when he asks another ; and the praising a thing 
 to such a degree as to seem to ask for it ; and the 
 persisting no less, though often foiled ; for these are 
 
 8. Adula- all indications of meanness. And the praising a 
 tion. person in his presence is a token of adulation ; and 
 
 the praising a man's good points, while you slur over 
 his failings ; or, when one is grieved, the exhibiting 
 grief in an inordinate degree, and whatever other 
 conduct is of a similar kind, [is a source of shame, 
 9. because it manifests adulation. [It is also shameful_ 
 not to sustain toils which those who are advanced in 
 years, or who live delicately, or who are of higher 
 rank, or, in a word, which they sustain whose 
 strength is inferior to your own ; because all these 
 10. are indications of eifeminacy : and so it is to be be- 
 nefited by another, and that frequently ; or, to re- 
 
 ' Spartano cuidam respondit Pytliia Tates : 
 Haud impunitum quondam fore, quod dubitaret 
 Depositum retinere, etc. Juv. xiii. 139. 
 
 See the account of the deposit left by a Milesian with Glau- 
 cus the son of Epicydes. Herodot. vi. 86. 
 
CUAP. VI.] RHETORIC. 129 
 
 proach a person with his obligations to you; for 
 they are all indications of a mean and abject spirit. 
 Again, to talk about one's self, and to be one's own ll. Vani- 
 trumpeter ; and to assert that to be one's own which *y- 
 belongs to another ; for these are indications of arro- 
 gance. In the same way, too, in the several other 
 instances of moral depravity, both their results, their 
 indications, and the like attendant circumstances, are 
 all subjects of shame; for they are disgraceful, and 
 make one ashamed. And to the afore-mentioned we 12. 
 may add, the non-participation in those creditable 
 qualities which either every body, or aU our equals, 
 or the greatest part of them, partake of. By equals 
 I mean, fellow countrymen, citizens, those of the 
 same age, relations ; in a word, those with whom we 
 are on an equality ; for [when a thing is so general] 
 the non-participation in it begins to be disgraceful ; 
 for instance, the not having been educated^, at least 
 in a certain degree, and so in the case of other 
 deficiencies ; but the disgrace of all these things be- 
 comes much greater, should they appear to be want- 
 ing by our own fault ; for thus, they are more pro- 
 perly the result of depravity should one be himself 
 the cause of what has attached to him, or does now, 
 or is likely so to attach. Again, men are sensible to 13- 
 feelings of shame, when they are suiFering, have suf- 
 fered, or are about to suffer any thing of such a na- 
 ture, as tends to loss of respect, and disgrace : and 
 these are all services consisting in the lending one's 
 self either personally, or in any shameful action 
 where there is an idea of suffering insult : and what- 
 ever administers to intemperance, whether it be vo- 
 luntary, or not : and submission to violence, if invo- 
 
 ^ It was by a somewhat similar consideration that Dr. 
 Johnson refuted the argument of those who opposed the edu- 
 cation of the poor on the gi-ound of its raising flieir ideas above 
 their sphere of life. " If," said he, " a few only are educated, 
 it is a distinction, and those few may be proud ; if it be general, 
 it ceases to be a distinction, and, of course, to be a ground of 
 pride. And the contrary will be the result; for instead of its 
 being ground oi pride that a man has been educated, it will be 
 matter oi shame if he has not." Boswell's Life. 
 K 
 
130 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 luntary ; for such submission, without defending 
 one's self, proceeds from an unmanly character, and 
 from cowardice. These then, and the like to these, 
 are the things about which men are sensible of shame. 
 14. Per- But as the sense of shame is an idea entertained of 
 sons in jggg gf character ; and of this loss, in itself alone, with- 
 presence Out reference to its consequences ; and as no one re- ' 
 men feel gards the opinion, except for the sake of those whoi_ 
 s^me. ggj^ j^ . j^ must follow that a man is thus sensible in 
 they regard to those for whom he has an esteem. But he 
 esteem, ■jvill have an esteem for those who admire him, and 
 whom he does himself admire, and by whom he wishes 
 to be admired, and in regard to whom he feels emu- 
 lation, and whose opinion he does not hold cheap. 
 
 16. Ad- Now, people wish to be admired by, and do them- 
 mire. selves admire, all those who possess any of those 
 
 goods which are valued ; or from whom they happen 
 to be very much in want of getting something of 
 which they have the disposal ; for instance, those who 
 
 17. Their are in love. But people have their emulation excited, 
 equals. ^^ reference to their equals ; and they hold in consi- 
 deration the prudent^, as being men who adhere to 
 truth ; of this description are men of education, and 
 
 18. Those such as are advanced in years. Also actions done in 
 ^^ the eyes of the world and in public [excite our shame], 
 they and hence the proverb, that " Shame dwells in the 
 must liye. eyes." On this account, people are more sensible of 
 
 shame before those with whom they are always likely 
 to be present, and those who fix their attention on 
 them, for both these are instances of being before the 
 
 19. The eyes of persons : — again, they are sensible of it be- 
 innocent. fQj.g those who are not open to charges on the same 
 
 points ; for their sentiments, it is evident, are the op- 
 posite of their own : before those also who do not 
 make allowances for such as appear to be faulty ; for 
 errors which a man commits himself, these he is said 
 
 ' Oi cjipovifioi, more properly, men of the world. Such a 
 character Cicero seems to have had in view, according to Vic- 
 torius, "when he says, " qui est versatus in rebuSy vel usu, quem 
 ffitas denique affert, vel auditione et cogitatione, qusc studio et 
 diligentia prfficurrit aitatem." Cic. de Orat. ii. 30. 
 
CHAP. VI.] RHETORIC. 131 
 
 not to take amiss in his neighbours ; so that he evi- 
 dently will take amiss such as he does not commit 
 himself: and before those who are fond of divulging 20. Tat- 
 what they know to the world ; for whether a man *^^'^^- 
 does not think one's conduct faulty, or does not divulge 
 it, makes no difference. But persons likely to di- 
 vulge [what they know to one's discredit] are such 
 as have been injured, from their being anxiously on 
 the watch to retaliate ; and those who are slanderers 
 generally ; for if they speak ill even of those who are 
 not culpable, much more will they of those who are : 
 as are also those who are on the look-out for the 
 errors of their neighbours, for instance, jesters, and 
 the poets of the old comedy ; for these are in some 
 sense slanderers, and fond of divulging. Again, .[men 
 are sensible of shame] before those with whom they 
 never met with a repulse ; for they are disposed to- 
 wards them as admirers. On which account men 
 have a sense of shame, even towards those who ask 
 any thing for the first time, as having never yet for- 
 feited their good opinion in any points. And of this 
 description are both those who have lateli/ sought to 
 be our friends, for they have observed our excellent 
 qualities ; and hence, the reply of Euripides to the 
 Syracusans is a good one''; and, of our old acquaint- 
 ances, those who know no ill of us. And men are 21. 
 sensible of shame not only about the things them- 
 selves which have been mentioned as delicate points, 
 but even about the indications of them ; for instance, 
 not only about licentious conduct, but also about all 
 indications of it ; not only in doing what is disgrace- 
 ful, but even in mentioning it^. And in the same 22. 
 way they are sensible of shame, not only before those 
 who have been mentioned, but before those also who 
 
 * It appears that Euripides had heen sent to Sicily as am- 
 bassador, but finding the Syracusans inclined to reject his 
 proposals for a peace, he told them, " that they surely ought to 
 have some respect for a people who held them in such high 
 consideration, particularly as this was their first request." 
 ' Quod factu fcedum est, idem est et dictu turpe. 
 Oil yap au5au i'crfl' a MJjSi dpav KaXotf. 
 
 Sophoc. CEd. Tvr. 1409. 
 k2 
 
132 ARISTOTLE'S [boox ii. 
 
 will be likely to disclose their conduct to them, as for 
 Servants, instance, their servants or their friends. In brief, 
 ^^' however, people are not at all sensible of shame be- 
 fore those whose opinions, in regard to their justness, 
 they hold cheap ; for no one feels shame before chil- 
 dren and brutes : nor do men feel it about the same 
 points when before acquaintances, as before strangers ; 
 but when before acquaintances they feel it on points 
 really shameful^; but before strangers on matters 
 merely sanctioned by custom. 
 
 24. How As regards themselves, men would be likely to be 
 affected sensible of shame under these dispositions ; first, if 
 shame. there should really exist any so affected towards them- 
 selves, as I described those to be, in regard to whom 
 they /eel shame. And these were either those whom 
 they hold in admiration, or by whom themselves are 
 held in admiration, or by whom they are desirous of 
 being admired, or of whom they are petitioning some- 
 thing which they will not be likely to get, if not men 
 
 When the of character. And if these be either actual spectators 
 world is (just as, on the question of the allotment of Samos to 
 on. colonists, Cydias introduced in his harangue to the 
 
 ecclesia; for he put it to the Athenians to imagine 
 that the Greeks were standing round as actual specta- 
 tors, and not as mere future hearers, of the decree 
 which they might pass) ; or should persons of this 
 description be near, or be likely soon to be aware of 
 their conduct : and on this account persons in misfor- 
 tune, do not wish even to be seen by those who once 
 deemed them happy ; for they who thus deem of us 
 
 25. When are admirers. And when they have attached to them 
 discredit ^yhat throws discredit on the conduct and the actions, 
 tach. either of themselves, or of their ancestors, or any 
 
 others with whom in any way they are closely con- 
 nected ; and, in one word, all in whose behalf they 
 are sensible of shame ; and these are the above-men- 
 tioned, and those who stand in any relation to them, 
 
 ^ He told us above (chap. iv. § 23), that those people were 
 usually regarded as friends *' before "whom "we feel no delicacy 
 on matters of mere opinion, though far from disregarding their 
 opinions." 
 
CHAP. VI.] RHETOEIC. 133 
 
 whose tutors or advisers they have been'. And if 26. With 
 there be others, their equals, with whom they are at *^*^'', 
 rivalry ; for, from a feeling of shame, on account of 
 persons of this description, men both do and leave 
 undone very many things. Again, when people are 27. When 
 likely to be seen, and openly to be engaged before ^f'^J^,^^ 
 those who are privy [to their disgrace], they become 
 in a higher degree susceptible of shame. And hence 
 the poet Antiphon, just as he was going to be beaten 
 on the rack by Dionysius, observing those who were 
 about to be executed with him muffling themselves 
 up as they went through the gate, said, "Why do 
 you muffle yourselves up ; — is it lest any of these pre- 
 sent should see you to-morrow ? " 
 
 Thus much then on the subject of the sense of 
 shame ; but of insensibility to it, we shall evidently 
 know enough from the contraries. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Those towards whom people feel Gratitude ; on wliat occa- 
 sions ; and, as regards themselves, with what dispositions. 
 
 The persons towards whom men feel gratitude, and 1. 
 
 the occasions on which, and with what dispositions 
 
 on their own part, will be plain to us, after we have 
 
 defined gratuitous benevolence. Now, let gratuitous 2. Defini- 
 tion of 
 
 ' The Stoics had ohserved this feeling of carrying our views '''"?"• 
 onward to posthumous glory; and found the love of glory the 
 most difficult of all passions to eradicate: — Sio xai Io-xitos 
 XiysTaL Ttav iraQuiV X'T"*^ ^ (pLKo^o^la, StoTL Twv &\X(jov 'jroX- 
 \<IK^s 01.' auTtiv aTToSvo/xiuuiv ali-ri) wpo<ri(TX^'rat Tr) tf/vyij. Sim- 
 plicius in Comm. ad Epicffiti, cap. 48. Tacitus, in speaking 
 of the great love of fame manifested hy Helvidius Priscus, jus- 
 tifies him, by ohserving that Etiam sapientibus cnpido glories 
 novissima exuitur. Hist. iv. 6. A mode of expression which 
 strongly brings to our recollection the passage in Milton's 
 Lycidas, 
 
 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise, 
 That last infirmity of noble mind. Lycid. 70 
 
134 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 benevolence ' be " that conformably to which, he who 
 has the power is said to confer a benefit on one who 
 needs it, not in return for any thing, nor in order that 
 any thing may accrue to him who so confers it, but 
 that some benefit may arise to the object." But it 
 becomes great should it be conferred on one who is in 
 extreme want 2, or if the boon be great and difficult 
 of attainment, or at a crisis of a certain description, 
 or if the giver has bestowed it alone, or first, or in a 
 greater degree than any other. Wants are however 
 our desires of these ; such particularly as are attend- 
 ed by pain on failing of their objects ; and of this 
 description are our lusts, as for instance, love. Again, 
 such as arise in the suffering of the body, and in dan- 
 ger ; for both the man who is exposed to danger, and 
 who suflFers pain, is anxious for something. On which 
 account, those who stand by us in poverty and ban- 
 ishment, should they confer even trifling benefits, 
 will yet have gratified us by reason of the greatness 
 of our need, and the circumstances of the time ; take 
 the instance of him who gave but a mat [to a beggar] 
 in the Lycasum. It is necessary, then, that our obli- 
 gation have reference, if possible, by all means to 
 some case of this sort, but if not, to some one of equal 
 or greater need. So that, as it is evident both when, 
 and in what cases, an act of free benevolence takes 
 place, and how the parties are affected, it is plain that 
 out of these principles we must get up our speech, 
 showing that, as regards the one party, they were or 
 are exposed to pain, or want of this description, and 
 as regards the other, that in such their want they as- 
 sisted them by administering some boon of this de- 
 scription. 
 How And it is also evident, by recurring to what topics 
 we may do away the obligation, and make our audi- 
 
 the orator 
 must in- 
 
 ' This chapter presents considerable difficulty from the 
 double meaning of which the word X"/°"' is capable. See 
 Schrader's Note, Animadv. 
 
 ' Hence the value of the aid sent by the Athenians to the 
 Lacedscmonians, when the Helots had possessed themselves of 
 Ithoma 
 
CHAP. VII.] BHETORIC. 135 
 
 ence insensible of grateful feelings'; for either we vest the 
 may urge that they are or were assisting them for audience 
 their own sakes, and this was supposed not to he free grateful 
 benevolence ; or are doing so just because it fell out feelings, 
 by chance, or because they were compelled to do so; ™;^ '^" 
 or that they paid back a debt, but did not bestow a 
 gift, and this as well if the party was conscious of 
 his having been so indebted, as if he was not ; be- 
 cause there is in both cases the idea of a quid pro 
 quo; so that neither on this view of the case will 
 any gratitude be felt. We should also examine the 6. 
 point under all the predicaments ; for free benevo- 
 lence stands in this, either that that particular thing 
 was given, or in such quantity, or of such a quality, 
 or as to the time when, or the place where, it was 
 given. And we may adduce it as a sign to suit this 
 purpose, if the parties in question have refused a less 
 favour ; and if they have conferred on an enemy either 
 the same favour, or an equal one, or a greater ; for 
 then it will be evident that they did it not for our 
 sakes. Or, if he wittingly has given something 
 paltry'*; for no one acknowledges that he stands in 
 need of what is paltry. 
 
 And now have my sentiments respecting benevo- 
 lence, and the want of it, been explained. 
 
 ^ The ease with which impressions of gratitude might be 
 effaced, appears to have been fully conceived by that French 
 statesman, who said, when he granted a favour, " -P aifait dix 
 inccontents, et un ingrat" 
 
 * Horace sneers at this kind of liberality. 
 
 Quo more pyris vesci Calaber jubet hospes, 
 
 Tu me fecisti locupletem. — Vescere sodes. — 
 Jam satis est. — At tu c[uantum vis telle. — -Benigne. — 
 Non invisa feres pueris munuscula parvis. — 
 Tam teneor done, quam si dimittar onustus. — 
 Ut libet : " hmcpords hodie comedenda relinquis." 
 
 Ep. lib. i. 7, 14. 
 
136 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 CHAP. viir. 
 
 Of Pity. 
 
 J Let us explain the circumstances which excite pity ; 
 and the persons whom men pity ; and, as regards 
 2. Defini- themselves, with what dispositions. Now let pity be 
 tion of (Jeflned to be ', " a sort of pain occasioned by an evil 
 capable of hurting or destroying^, appearing to be- 
 fall one who does not deserve it, which one may 
 himself expect to endure ^ or that some one connect- 
 ed with him will ; and this when it appears near : 
 for it evidently is necessary that a person likely to 
 feel pity should be actually such as to deem that, 
 either in his own person, or of some one connected 
 with him, he may suffer some evil, and that an evil 
 of such a description as has been stated in the defini- 
 tion, or one similar to it, or nearly equivalent to it^. 
 3 Per- On which account neither do those who are abso- 
 
 ^ Grief for the calamity of another is pity ; and arisethfrom 
 the imagination that the like calamity may befall hiynself; and 
 therefore it is called also compassion, and, in the phrase of the 
 present time, a fellow-feeling : and therefore, for calamity 
 arriving from great wickedness the test men have the least 
 pity ; and for the same calamity those men hate pity, that 
 think themselves least obnoxious to the same. Hohhes's Le- 
 viathan. See Rochefoucault's Maxims, No. 342, where the 
 above is quoted in the note. 
 
 ^ The evil in the case of pity is of the same character as 
 was stated to be the object of fear. In fact, whatever when 
 befalling another excites pity, in one's own case excites fear. 
 Vid. chap. v. § 12. 
 
 ' It is on this principle that, in the Poetics, describing the 
 character best adapted to the purposes of tragedy, and in whose 
 suiferings we shall be most likely to take an interest, he ex- 
 cludes an absolutely vicious character ; — aTpayiaTOTaTov yap 
 TouTo EtTTt' irdvTwv 01/6^1/ yctp £XEi tott Stl' oSte yap (l>iXavdpw' 
 TTov, ouT£ kXtiLvov, ouTE {po^ipov icTxi. Aud a llttlc aftcr he 
 gives the reason of this ; — eXeos /liv Trspi tov ava^iov ^ofios Si 
 irtpi t6v ofjLOLou, § 25. 
 
 ■* Perhaps the whole germ of Aristotle's doctrine on this 
 subject may be traced, however briefly expressed, in the cele- 
 brated sentence of Terence, " Homo sum ; humani nihil a me 
 alienum puto." 
 
CHAP, viii.] RHETORIC. 137 
 
 lutely lost, feel pity ; for these think they shall no sons who 
 longer be exposed to suffering, for their sufferings are "" '"'^' 
 past ; nor those who esteem themselves excessively 
 happy, but these was insolent ; for evidently, if they 
 esteem every good to be realized to them, they also 
 esteem their lot to be incapable of suffering any evil ; 
 since this also enters into the number of goods. But 4. 
 of this description, viz. such as think they may 
 yet suffer evil, are both who already have suffered 
 and escaped'; and those advanced in years, as well 
 by reason of their prudence, as of their experience : 
 and the weak ; and those who are rather timid ; and 
 men of education, for these calculate life's contingen- 
 cies aright ; and those to whom belong parents % or 5. 
 children, or wives, for these attach to one's self, and 
 are liable to suffer the above-mentioned evils. Those 6. and do 
 do not feel pity who are under the excitements of °?* *^^^ 
 courage, for instance, under anger or confidence ; for 
 these feelings little calculate the future : nor do those 
 feel pity who are under insolent dispositions''; for 
 these persons also calculate little of suffering any 
 thing : but those who are of the mean temperament 
 between these are susceptible of pity : and those again 
 are not susceptible of it who are vehemently affected 
 by fear ; for such as are horror-struck do not feel 
 pity^, by reason of its being akin to an evil which 
 comes home to tliemselves. Also people are suscep- 7. 
 tible of pity, should they esteem some persons to be 
 good; for he who esteems no one to be such', will 
 
 * So Dido, " Haud ignara mali miseris succurrere disco." 
 ' Exemplified in Priam's appeal to Achilles : 
 
 Tr]\tKOV, loa-irsp lywv, k. t. \. II. xxiv. 486. 
 
 ' Sophocles, CEd. Tyr. 873 : — u|3^is <l>vriuti -ripavvov. With 
 the same view of human nature Aristotle, -when he says that 
 persons affected by pleasure are disposed to placability, quali- 
 fied his expression by the exclusion of wanton insolence ; — • 
 ol kv vSovrj fM-t] vj3pLcrTLK^, Kal iv iXiriSl kiritlKii' cap. iii. \ 12. 
 ' Lear, Act t. sc. iii. : 
 
 This judgment of the heavens, which makes us tremble, 
 Touches us not with pity. 
 » Thus the old, from their experience of the depravity of 
 
138 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 think every one deserving of evil. And in a word, 
 every one, when he is so affected as to call to his 
 recollection the fact, that evils of such a character 
 have befallen either him or his, or to apprehend that 
 they may befall either him or his. And now it has 
 been stated with what dispositions men feel pity. 
 8. Cir- The circumstances which excite their pity wiU be 
 
 cum- evident from the definition : for whatever things, of 
 
 9t3.IlC6S 
 
 which, ex- the number of those which cause pain and anguish, 
 cite pity, have a tendency to destroy, are all such as to cause 
 pity : again, every thing whose tendency is utter 
 abolition ; also all those evils which involve the 
 quality of greatness, and of which chance is the 
 9. cause '". But the evils whose characteristic is great 
 anguish and destruction, are as follows : death, as- 
 saults, personal injuries, and age, and sickness, and 
 
 10. want of food. And the evils of which chance is the 
 cause, are, absolute want, or fewness of friends, (on 
 which account even the being torn from friends and 
 familiars is a circumstance to be pitied,) ugliness, in- 
 firmity, deformity, and the circumstance that some 
 evil befalls one from a source whence it were becom- 
 ing for some good to have arisen ; and the frequent 
 occurrence of a similar thing : and the accession of 
 some good, when one has already passed his suffer- 
 ings ; as for example, the gifts of the king were sent 
 
 11. down to Diopithes after he was dead"; and the fact 
 either that no good has accrued, or of there being no 
 enjoyment of it when it has arrived. These, then, 
 and the like, are the circumstances on account of 
 which men feel pity. 
 
 12. Per- But people are sensible of pity toward their ac- 
 sonstobe quaintances, if they be not of extremely close con- 
 nexion, but about such they feel just as they do about 
 themselves when on the eve of suffering : and on this 
 
 man, are less susceptible of pity than the young, whose inexpe- 
 rience judges well of human nature. See chapters xii. and xiii. 
 
 '" For chance in a great measure excludes the idea of the 
 person's deserving the evU he suffers. 
 
 " In the last act of The Gamester there is a iine illustration 
 of this ; where Beverley hears of his succession to the inherit- 
 ance just as he has drunk poison. 
 
CHAP. VIII.] RHETORIC. 139 
 
 account Amasis'^, as they say, did not shed a tear 
 over his son when he was being led to execution, but 
 he did over his friend who was asking an alms ; for 
 this was a circumstance to call for pity ; the other, 
 to excite horror. For horror is distinct from pity. Horror is 
 and has a tendency to expel pity from the breast, ^^'^""'L, 
 and is frequently available to produce a contrary ef- 13. 
 feet''. StiU men feel pity while the evil is yet ap- 
 proaching. And they feel it towards their equals, 
 whether in age, in temper, in habits, in rank, or in 
 family ; for in all these relations, the evil is seen with 
 greater clearness as possible to befall also one's self. 
 For we must here also assume generally, that what- 
 ever people fear in their own case, that they pity as 
 happening in the case of others. But as the disasters l*- 
 which excite pity always appear to be close at hand, 
 while, as to those removed at the distance of ten 
 thousand years, men neither in the expectation of 
 them, \i future, nor in the remembrance of them, if 
 past, are sensible of' pity at all, or at least not in an 
 equal degree ; this being the case, it must follow that 
 those characters which are got up with the aid of 
 gesture, and voice, and dress, and of acting, generally 
 have the greater effect in producing pity '■*. For 
 thus, by setting the evil before our eyes, as either 
 
 *2 Perhaps Aristotle quoted from memory ; and it is not im- 
 probable that he may have been mistaken as to the person to 
 whom he attributes this conduct, since Herodotus relates the 
 story, not of Amasis, but of his son Psammenitus ; who re- 
 marks, in perfect accordance with the principles of the philo- 
 sopher, TCI /xki/ oiKriia — ;Lt£^a) KaKa fi iocTTE avuKXaiEtv^ Herod, 
 iii. 14. See the conduct of Gelimer, the Vandal king of Africa, 
 who burst into laughter at his interview with Belisarius after 
 the loss of his kingdom and liberty. Gibbon, Dec. and Fall, 
 chap. 41, note 31. 
 
 " On this principle is founded one of his criteria of. excess 
 of criminality, viz. if the recital of its effects prodiwe fear in- 
 stead of pity ; — o oi aKouoi/TE^ {po^ovvrai fiaWov, fj iXeouirtf 
 ^usIJoK, lib. i. c. xiv. § 5. 
 
 ** 'EffTi uku oiiv TO cpojSspou Kal eXeeivov e/cx^s oi/zEois yivEu- 
 Bat, Poet. § 27. See a very pleasant paper of Addison's on 
 this subject, Spectator, No. 42. " We know the effect of the 
 skull and black hangings in The Fair Penitent, the scaffold in 
 Venice Preserved,, the tomb in Romeo and Juliet," etc. Twining. 
 
140 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 being on the eve of taking place, or as having hap- 
 pened, men make it appear to he close at hand. 
 
 15. Likewise things which have just taken place, or 
 quickly about to do so, have on this very account a 
 
 16. greater tendency to excite pity. Also the indications 
 and actions of persons ; for instance, the garments '^ 
 of those who have suffered, and other things of that 
 sort. And the expressions of those under suffering, 
 for instance, of those already in act of dying. And 
 especially is it a circumstance to move pity, that while 
 in these crises the persons have borne themselves 
 virtuously'^. For all these circumstances produce 
 pity in a higher degree from its appearing near; also, 
 the fact of the person's being unworthy, and his dis- 
 aster appearing in view before our eyes. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Of Indignation. 
 
 1. Indig- To pity is opposed, most directly, that feeling which 
 
 nation op- jjjgjj g^jy indignation ; for, to the feeling pain at un- 
 
 pity. deserved misfortune, is opposed in a certain way the 
 
 Definition feeling pain at undeserved good fortune, and it ori- 
 
 of it. ginates in the same disposition ; and these feelings 
 
 2. are both those of a virtuous disposition. For we 
 
 ought to sympathize with, and to pity those who are 
 
 undeservedly unfortunate ; and to feel indignant at 
 
 those who are undeservedly fortunate ; for whatever 
 
 happens contrary to desert is unjust ; and on this 
 
 account we make indignation an attribute even of 
 
 " Witness the effect of Antony's display of the robe of Ccesar 
 stained with his blood. Julius Csesar, 
 
 '* Illustrated in the effect produced by Polyxena's resigna- 
 tion and ansiety to preserve, even in death, the decorum of 
 female delicacy : — 
 
 fl Si Kai S'l/^tr/couCT'', Hfiwi 
 iroWfjv irpouoLav ttXE" tiiayrifno^ -TTEtrtly. 
 KpuTTTova' , a KpiinrTEiv Ofi/xaT' aptritftjov \pEwv. 
 
 Eurip Hecuba, 563. 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 141 
 
 the gods'. It should seem, too, that envy stands 3. En-vy 
 opposed to pity in the same way, as appearing to be opposed 
 akin to, and in fact the same thing as, indignation ; 
 and yet it really is distinct. For envy is also a pain Definition 
 causing agitation, it also is felt at good fortune, not, °^'*- 
 however, at the good fortune of the tmdeserving 
 [only], but of equals and fellows^. The feeling, 
 however, in all cases equally [of envy and of indig- 
 nation], must exist [in the breasts of those aifected 
 by it], not because any difference will be likely to 
 accrue to themselves, but on account of their neigh- 
 bour, solely as regards himself. For no longer will 
 the one feeling be envy, and the other indignation, 
 but fear, should the pain and agitation exist on this 
 account, viz. because some evil will probably result 
 to themselves from the good fortune of the other. 
 
 But it is plain that opposite feelings will be conse- 4- Oppo- 
 quent on these passions : for he who feels pain at ?'*^ 
 those who are undeservedly unfortunate, wiU feel conse- 
 pleasure, or at least be unaffected by pain, at those quent on 
 who are unfortunate under different circumstances^: emotions 
 for instance, no good man would feel pain about par- 
 ricides and murderers when they meet with punish- 
 ment ; since we ought to feel joy at such occurrences ; 
 and so in the case of those who are deservedly for- 
 tunate ; for both are instances of justice, and cause 
 the good man to rejoice, since it must be that he has 
 a hope that what has been realized to his equal, will 5. Both 
 be realized also to himself, and these are all feelings "''j.^,^je"s' 
 
 ' Thus Herodotus attributes the turn in the fortunes of 
 Crojsus to his having incurred the divine indignation : — Ms-ri 
 SoXwi/a olxo^i-^vou, £A.a/3£ Ik dsou yg/ieo-is fXEydXrj KpoTaoV ihs 
 tLKairaL, OTi kuofjLLtrs itnvTov ELvaL av6punri/iV aTravTiov oA/3iaiTa- 
 Tou. Herodotus, i. 34. 
 
 ^ The envious and indignant have this in common, viz. the 
 good fortune of their neighbour, as the object of ilieir respect- 
 ive passions ; and the absence of any apprehension as to the 
 degree in which their o^^^l circumstances may be affected by 
 such good forttme ; for the moment they begin to calcula,te the 
 probability of any detriment arising to themselves therefrom, 
 the feeling, ceasing to be any longer envy or indignation, -will 
 have become fear. 
 
 ' That is, deservedly. 
 
 pity. 
 
142 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book II. 
 
 6. Per- 
 sons who 
 excite in- 
 digna- 
 tion. 
 
 of the same disposition; and their opposites, of the- 
 opposite dispositions. . Since the same man who ex- 
 ults in misfortune* is also envious ; for any who feels 
 pain at the accession and acquisition of any good, 
 that person necessarily must rejoice when that good 
 is in act of being withdrawn and lost. On which 
 account these feelings are all of them obstacles to 
 pity ; but, among themselves, they dilFer for the fore- 
 going reasons, so that all are alike available with a 
 view to render a thing not an object of pity. 
 
 0& the subject of indignation, then, let us first 
 state who the persons are with whom men feel in- 
 dignant, the occasions on which, and, as regards 
 themselves, with what dispositions ; then, after these, 
 of other points. But the subject will be plain from 
 what has already been said ; for if indignation be a 
 feeling pain on a man's appearing to be undeservedly 
 fortunate, it will' be evident in the first place that it 
 is not possible to feel indignation in the case of every 
 good. For there is no one who, if another be just, 
 or brave, or shall make acquisitions of virtue, will 
 ral'advan- feel indignation at that other ; for neither is pity felt 
 tages, but at the contraries of these qualities*: but it is about 
 
 ■> 'ETrixi'PEKaicia, or, in the language of the " Ethica Mag- 
 na," x'^^P^'^"^^"* is one of the extremes between "which vifiztri^ 
 is said to exist ; the other extreme is cj>6ovipia, an aptitude to 
 feelings of envy. Speaking of the " great power and force " 
 of the Greek language, a late translator of the Agamemnon of 
 .^schylus remarks, that " One word would sometimes require 
 for its translation a whole sentence of modern language ; as, 
 for instance, 'E-n-txatpEKaKia, a disposition to feel pleasure at 
 the misfortunes of others ; which makes a sentence, and con- 
 stitutes a maxim in Rochefoucault, " II y a toujours dans le 
 malheur d'autrui quelque chose qui ne nous deplait pas ;" and 
 adds in a note, that Lord Bacon (Essays) has beautifully 
 touched on this disposition : " There is a natural malignity ; 
 for there be that in their nature do not affect the good of 
 others." Preface to Symmons's translation of the Agamemnon. 
 
 ^ Pity is not felt at the absence of these qualities from any 
 one, because they cannot be absent without being deservedly 
 so ; and it is essential to pity that its object be imdeservedly 
 exposed to that inconvenience which he suffers ; on the other 
 hand, indignation cannot be felt at their presence, because it is 
 the distinguishing feature of moral advantages that they cannot 
 be possessed, without being deserved. 
 
 8. Not 
 such as 
 have mo- 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 143 
 
 wealth and' power and the like possessions [that those of 
 people feel indignant], and in a word, about all those fortune. 
 things of which the good are deserving, and such as 
 are naturally possessed of advantages ; as, for ex- 
 ample, of high birth, of beauty, and advantages of 
 that description. But as what is ancient seems, in a 9. 
 certain sense, akin to what is natural, it must foUow, 
 that men are indignant, in a greater degree, at those 
 who possess the very same good, if they be recently 
 possessed of it, and are by its means in good circum- 
 stances, [than with those who have long possessed 
 it.] For those who have recently become rich give Such as 
 greater pain than those who have long been rich, and ""^ ne-wly 
 by right of birth. And, in the same way, persons 
 in office, and men of power, and possessed of numer- 
 ous friends, and of good children, and any good of 
 this description ; and likewise if, through the instru- 
 mentality of these, there should accrue to them any 
 further good : here, too, those of recent wealth, who 
 by means of their wealth get into office, give greater 
 pain than those who have been wealthy of old. And 
 in a similar manner in the case of the others. But lo. They 
 the reason of this is, thAt while the one sort appear seem to 
 to possess what is their own, the others do not ; for ^hauhey 
 that which appears ever to have held this rank, have no 
 seems to involve an idea of truth ; insomuch that the "^lit to- 
 others seem to possess what does not belong to them. 
 And as, of the goods, each does not become any one 11. Such 
 who may accidentally present himself, but there is a ^ ^^'^'^ 
 certain proportion and idea of adaptation ; for ex- fncongru- 
 ample, splendour in respect of armour, is not adapted ously. 
 to a man whose virtue is justice, but to him who 
 possesses courage ; and splendid marriage feasts are 
 jiot adapted to those of recent wealth, but to those of 
 high birth : therefore if any one, though he may be 
 a good man, meet with a possession which is not 
 adapted to him, we should feel indignant ; as also 
 with an inferior who disputes with his superior ; and 
 particularly if he does so on the very points in which 
 he is inferior. Whence also this was remarked by 
 Homer : " He missed engaging with Ajax the son of 
 
144 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 Telamon ; for Jupiter was indignant because he was 
 Such as fain to engage a hero his superior^." But, if it be 
 compare ^^ ^j^ same erounds, we feel indignant if an in- 
 jects lerior challenge a superior, even on any grounds ; 
 
 ■which ad- for instance, if a musician were to dispute with a 
 ^^p^;."^ just man, for justice is superior to music. The per- 
 son, sons then with whom, and the reasons why men feel 
 indignant will be evident from this ; for they are 
 these or others of the same description. 
 12. Men As regards themselves, men have a tendency to in- 
 feelmdi- ^ignation, if they deserve and have acquired the 
 nation. highest goods; for the circumstance of those not 
 their equals being thought worthy of equal advan- 
 13. tages, is not just. Next, they feel it, if they chance 
 to be good and excellent persons ; for they both 
 11. The judge aright, and hate what is unjust. Again, if 
 ambi- they be ambitious and desirous of certain objects, and 
 especially should they be ambitious about those things 
 15. which others who are undeserving obtain. And 
 those, in a word, who think themselves worthy those 
 things, of which they do not esteem others worthy, 
 are apt to feel indignant at those others, and about 
 those very objects. On which account slaves, sorry 
 fellows, and men devoid of ambition, are not liable 
 to feelings of indignation, since there is nothing of 
 16. On which they think themselves worthy. And from this 
 what oc- jt is evident on what occasions of misfortunes, or iU 
 men feel luck, or failure of success, persons ought to rejoice, 
 indig- or at least to be unaffected by pain ; for, from what 
 nant. j^g^g h&&n Stated, the contraries will be evident. So 
 that should the speech have wrought up the judges 
 into this disposition, and should it have shown that 
 those who claim to be pitied, and that the circum- 
 stances under which they claim it, are undeserving 
 pity, and really deserving not to gain it, it will be 
 impossible for the judges to feel pity. 
 
 * The remark is made of Cebriones, II. ii. v. 542 ; where, 
 however, the second line quoted by Aristotle does not occur. 
 
CHAP. X.] RHETORIC. 145 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Of Envy. 
 
 It is plain also on what occasions, with whom, and 1. Envy. 
 with what dispositions men feel envy, if in truth 
 envy be " a sort of pain at apparent good fortune. Its defini- 
 touching the above-mentioned goods ', in the case of ^°^- 
 equals, not in order that any thing may happen to 
 one's self, and simply on account of their [being thus 
 fortunate]:" for those who have, or seem to have 
 equals, will be the people to be envious. I mean by 2. 
 equals, those who are like in circumstances of birth, 
 connexions, age, habits, character, and property. 
 They, too, wiU be envious who fall but little short of Men like- 
 possessing all^ : hence those who are carrying on '^ *° ^'^^'^ 
 •1.^-i ,^, , ■! o envy are : 
 
 mighty projects, and those who are prosperous, are those 
 
 envious ; for they think that every one is carrying off T;itMn a 
 what belongs to them. Again, those who are re^- Jj^^gjJJ^. 
 markably esteemed on any account, and particularly mit. 
 on account of their wisdom or happiness. And ^■ 
 those who are ambitious are more given to envy than The am- 
 those who are devoid of ambition. And those who •"t'™'*- 
 make a show of wisdom, for they are ambitious on the The wise. 
 score of wisdom. And, in a word, those who in any 
 respect are ambitious of glory are given to envy in 
 that respect. And the narrow-minded ; for, to them. The nar- 
 every thing appears of consequence. ^^ , 
 
 The goods respecting which men feel envy have ^ objects 
 been told you ; for all those things whatsoever, about which ex- 
 which men are eager for praise, and ambitious, whe- °'*^ ^''^■ 
 
 ' See § 7 and 8 of the last chapter, where he excludes mo- 
 ral excellence from the number of the goods which excite in- 
 dignation ; and in justification of their exclusion in that place 
 it may be obserred, that the simple fact of their being pos- 
 sessed is proof of their being deserved. And their exclusion 
 from the subjects of envy may be justified by the consideration 
 that the envious wiU, in general, esteem moral excellence 
 scarcely worth troubling themselves about. 
 
 2 See the parable of the ewe lamb, addressed by Nathan to 
 David. 
 
 L 
 
146 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book II. 
 
 5. Men 
 likely to 
 be envied. 
 
 Equals. 
 
 Bivals. 
 
 7. The 
 success- 
 ful. 
 
 8. Those 
 ■whose 
 success is 
 a tacit re- 
 proach to 
 ^s. 
 
 ther they be productions or acquisitions, and re- 
 specting which they are desirous of renown, and all 
 cases of good luck ; about all these nearly is envy 
 felt ; and particularly about such of them as the in- 
 dividuals are themselves desirous of, or think they 
 ought themselves to possess, or those things in tha 
 possession of which they are themselves superior, or 
 deficient in a trifling degree. 
 
 Again, it is evident with whom men are envious ; 
 for this has been already stated in connexion [with 
 what has gone before] ; since men envy those who 
 come near them in time, and place, and age, and cha- 
 racter ; whence the saying, " kindred too is conscious 
 of envy^." Men also envy those with whom they 
 are at rivalry ; for they are rivals of those above- 
 mentioned ; but of those who existed ten thousand 
 years back, or who may live ten thousand years 
 hence, or who are ah-eady dead, of these no one is 
 the rival ; nor again of those who live at the Pillars 
 of Hercules^; nor of those of whom, in the opinions 
 either of themselves or of others, they are greatly the 
 inferiors ; nor again of those to whom they conceive 
 themselves to be in a great degree superior ; with the 
 like indifference do they regard those [at all en- 
 gaged] in pursuits of this description. And as men 
 are affected by ambition in regard to rivals, and 
 competitors, and all, in a word, who are eager after 
 the same objects, it must follow that they envy these 
 in an especial manner ; whence the saying, " potter 
 envies potter." And those who either succeed with 
 difficulty, or do not succeed at all, envy those who 
 succeed quickly. Again, they envy those whose ac- 
 quisitions and success are a reproach to themselves, 
 and these are those who are near them, or their 
 equals ; for it becomes evident that they do them- 
 selves fail of success through their own fault, so that 
 
 ^ This apophthegm should seem to justify the caution of 
 Cleohulus, — K\eojSou\os 6 Aivdto^ kpwriidzU utto tii/os Tiva Ssi 
 fxctKiaTOL <^v\dTTE<Tdai ; eIttev, tSiv fikv <ptKu3V T(Jy (p&ovotfj tSiv 
 ^£ kxQpitiV Tt/n kirtfiovXriv. StohsBUS. 
 
 * rtpiJs To£»B Ik TToSibv, (^001/os oiideh cjiOsTaL. Philo. Hooker, 
 V. § 2, p. 26. 
 
CHAP. XI.] RHETORIC. 147 
 
 this, galling them, produces envy. And those who 9. 
 either possess or have acquired that which it would 
 become themselves to possess, or which themselves 
 had at one time acquired ; at least the old, on this 
 account, envy the young. And those who have been 10. 
 at considerable expense on an object, envy those who 
 have expended little on the same object. But it is 11. 
 evident both with whom, and on what occasions, and 
 with what dispositions people of this sort feel plea- 
 sure ; for they will be delighted, having in the con- 
 trary circumstances that very temper, the which 
 being without, they are pained. So that if the The ora- 
 judges themselves shall have been wrought up into *?^^y ^^' 
 this disposition, while those who lay claim to our envy will 
 pity or to the acquisition of some good, are such as remove 
 have been described, it is evident that they will not I" ^' 
 obtain pity at the hands of those on whom they de- 
 pend for it. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 Of Emulation. 
 
 Hence likewise it will be evident both with what 1. Emu- 
 dispositions, and in regard to what objects, and of ^''°"' 
 whom, persons are emulous. Because if emulation its defini- 
 be " a sort of pain at the apparent ' presence of goods *'°"- 
 which are held in honour, and which admit of one's 
 gaining them himself, in the case of those naturally 
 our equals ; felt, not because they are present to an- 
 other, but because they are not likewise present to 
 one's self," (on which very account emulation is a vir- It is a vir- 
 tuous feeling, and belongs to virtuous people, whereas *™^i„n_ 
 envy is a depraved feeling, and belongs to persons 
 who are depraved : for the one, by motion of his emu- 
 
 ' The merely apparent presence of this description of goods 
 is sufficient to excite emulation. The character of the goods 
 ■which this passion has as its object is entirely different from 
 that which excites envy and indignation. 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book n. 
 
 Persons 
 likely to 
 feel emu- 
 lation. 
 
 The 
 young 
 and lugh- 
 spirited. 
 
 2. Those 
 whom 
 others 
 esteem. 
 
 3. Whose 
 ancestry 
 or rela- 
 tions are 
 ■worthy, 
 
 i. Things 
 which are 
 objects of 
 emula- 
 tion. 
 Virtues. 
 
 Goods. 
 
 Wealth, 
 etc. 
 
 5. Per- 
 sons who 
 are ob- 
 jects of 
 emula- 
 tion. 
 
 6. All 
 whom 
 men wish 
 to resem- 
 ble, 
 
 lation, sets himself to acquire the good ; while the 
 other, by motion of his envy, sets himself to cause 
 the dispossession of his neighbour). It must be, then, 
 that persons who deem themselves worthy of goods 
 which they do not possess, are apt to feel emulation ; 
 since no one arrogates to himself that which appears 
 impossible : and hence the young and the high-spirit- 
 ed are thus aifected ; and also those to whom belong 
 goods of such a description as to be worth the atten- 
 tion of men in repute ; these are wealth, number of 
 friends, office, and whatever other goods are of this 
 kind ; for men feel emulous of such goods ; as though, 
 because they properly belong to such as are men of 
 virtuous dispositions, it were matter of absolute right 
 that themselves should be virtuous. Again, those ai'e 
 emulous whom others esteem worthy of such goods : 
 and those again whose ancestors, or relations, or in- 
 timate friends, or whose tribe or city is held in es- 
 teem about any point, such persons are apt to feel 
 emulation on that point ; for they think they belong 
 properly to them, and that themselves are worthy of 
 them. 
 
 But if those goods are matter of emulation which 
 are held in esteem, it must of course follow that the 
 virtues are of this description ; and whatever things 
 have a tendency to aid and benefit others ; since peo- 
 ple honour virtuous people, and those who benefit 
 them : likewise that all goods whatsoever, the enjoy- 
 ment of which accrues to one's neighbours, are of this 
 sort ; for instance, wealth, and beauty, rather than 
 health. 
 
 And it will also be evident who the persons are 
 who are objects of emulation ; since they who possess 
 these, and the like goods, become objects of emulation ; 
 these goods are such as have been mentioned, for ex- 
 ample, courage, wisdom, sovereignty ; for those who 
 are sovereigns have a power of benefiting many. 
 Generals, orators, all, in fact, who have abilities this 
 way [are objects of emulation], And those whom 
 many wish to resemble, or who have many acquaint- 
 ances, or many friends. Or those whom many admire. 
 
CHAP. XI.] RHETORIC. 149 
 
 or whom they do themselves admire. And those on 7. or ad- 
 whom are pronounced the praises and encomia of ""''^• 
 poets and panegyrists ^. Persons, however, of a con- Contempt 
 trary description, men despise ; for contempt is the ^^^°" 
 contrary of emulation ; and the despising of the being em3a- 
 emulous. And it must be that persons so affected as tion. 
 to emulate certain persons, or to be themselves ob- 
 jects of emulation, are apt to feel contempt for those 
 things and persons who possess evils the contraries 
 of those goods which are the objects of emulation. 
 On which account men frequently despise the fortun- 
 ate, when their good fortune is unconnected with 
 those goods which are held in esteem. 
 
 Of the means, then, by which the passions are ex- 
 cited in the breast, and are allayed, one of the sources ^ 
 out of which means of persuasion arise, of these we 
 now have treated. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Of the Passions and Sahits of the Young', 
 
 Let us next go over in detail the dispositions^ of 1. Charac- 
 men ; considering of what kind of a turn they are, in ^'^^ ?^. 
 reference to their passions, habits, ages, and fortunes. 
 
 ^ This description of orators were justly said to be Xoyoypd- 
 4>oi, (Xoyous ypa<jii\v ;) indeed it appears from the third book, 
 that epideictic orations in general were intended rather for pe- 
 rusal than recitation. Speaking of the style of epideictic 
 orators, he remarks, -rd 'ipyov auT^s avayvmai^, lib. iii. cap. 
 xii. § 6. 
 
 ^ Viz. TTtffTts iraBijTLKTj, the third branch of TrtCT-Tts evtej^i/tj. 
 See book i. chap. ii. § 3, 4, 5. 
 
 ' This discussion of the dispositions of persons, under a few 
 of the most striking circumstances of life, was promised in the 
 first book (chap. X. § 11). 
 
 ^ " The word vBri, taken in its utmost extent, includes every 
 thing that is habittial and characteristic i but it is often used in 
 a limited sense, for the habitual temper or disposition." Twin- 
 ing. Probably " humour," in the sense in which it has been 
 defined by Ben Jonson, comes nearer to r/dos than any word 
 in our language : — 
 
150 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 2. Vai-y I call anger, lust, and the like, by the name pas- 
 in their sions; a Subject of which we have treated above. By 
 sions'.*" the name habits, I designate virtues and vices : and 
 ii. Habits, of these we have treated above, both as to the points 
 
 on which men form deliberate choice, and that to which 
 iii. Ages, they give birth in action. And the ages are youth, 
 iv. For- prime, and old age. 'Rj fortune I mean, high birth, 
 txmes. ^^^ wealth, and abilities, and their opposites; and, 
 
 in one word, good and bad fortune. 
 
 3. Cha- Now the youiig are in their dispositions prone to 
 racter of (jgsire, and of a character to effect what they desire. 
 young. And they are in the highest degree apt to pursue the 
 Ardent, pleasures of love above all desires about which the 
 
 body is concerned, and in these they are incontinent. 
 
 Inoon- But they are prone to change, and fastidious in the 
 
 stant. objects of their desires. And they desire with earn- 
 
 ■ estness, but speedily cease to desire ; for their wishes 
 
 are keen, without being durable ; just like the hunger 
 IiTitable. and thirst of the sick. And they are passionate and 
 
 irritable, and of a temperament to follow the impulse. 
 
 5. And they cannot overcome their anger ; for by reason 
 of their ambition they do not endure a slight, but 
 
 AniM- become indignant, and fancy themselves injured : and 
 tions. ^jjgy ^j.g ambitious indeed of honour, but more so of 
 
 6. victory ; for youth is desirous of superiority, and vic- 
 tory is a sort of superiority. And of both these are 
 they desirous in a higher degree than of gain ; but 
 least of all are they desirous of gain ^, by reason of 
 their having never yet experienced want ; just ac- 
 cording to the proverbial saying of Pittacus to Am- 
 
 , 7. San- phiaraus *- And they do not view things in a bad 
 
 When some one peculiar quality 
 iJoth so possess a man, that it doth draw 
 All his affects, his spirits, and his powers, 
 In their confluctions, all to run one way, 
 This may be truly said to be a humour. 
 Every Man out of his Humour : where see Whalley's note. 
 
 ' Power pleases the violent and proud : wealth delights the 
 placid and timorous. Youth therefore flies at power, and age 
 grovels after riches. Johnson's Journey to the Hebrides, 
 p. 344. 
 
 ■* It is not known what this saying of Pittacus was. 
 
 gulue. 
 
CHAP. XII.] RHETORIC. 151 
 
 light, but in a good, by reason of their never having 
 yet been witnesses of much depravity. And they Credu- 
 are credulous, from their never having yet been 
 much imposed on. And they are sanguine in their 8. 
 expectations ; for like those who are affected by 
 wine, so the young are warmed by their nature ; and 
 at the same time from their having never yet met 
 with many repulses. Their life, too, for the most Their life 
 part, is one of hope ; for hope is of that which is J^ ™^ " 
 yet to be, while memory is of that which is passed : 
 but to the young that which is yet to be, is long ; but 
 that which has passed, is short ; for in the early days 
 of life they think they remember nothing, while they 
 hope for every thing ; and they are easily imposed 
 on, for the reason which has been stated ; because 
 they soon cherish expectation. And they are brave 9. Rash, 
 rather to an excess ; for they are irritable and san- 
 guine, qualities, the one whereof cancels fear, and 
 the other inspires courage ; for while no one who is 
 affected by anger ever is afraid, the being in hope of 
 some good is a thing to give courage. And they are 10. Bash- 
 bashful ; for they do not as yet conceive the honour- 
 able to be any thing distinct, but they have been 
 educated only under the established usage of the 
 state. And they are high-minded ; for they have not 11. High- 
 as yet been humbled by the course of life, but are ^P'"*''''- 
 unexperienced in peremptory circumstances : again, 
 high-mindedness is the deeming one's self worthy of 
 much ; and this belongs to persons of sanguine ex- 
 pectations. And they prefer succeeding in an hon- 12. With 
 ourable sense than in points of expediency ; for they ^0^°^^.°^ 
 live more in conformity to moral feeling than to mere 
 calculations*; and calculation is of the expedient, 
 moral excellence, however, of that which is honour- 
 able. Again, they are fond of friends and companions 13. Social, 
 rather than of their other compeers in age, by reason 
 of their delighting in social intercourse, and of their 
 not yet deciding on any thing in reference to what is 
 
 5 Aoyiir/ios is that one of the seven causes of human action 
 ■which least affects the young. They usually act from 5u^69 or 
 kiri.QuiJ.ia. 
 
152 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii 
 
 expedient ; so that they do not decide on their friends 
 
 14. Their [upon that principle]. And all their errors are on 
 errors are the side of excess and too great earnestness, in con- 
 sMe* rf travention of Chilo's rule ; for the young carry every 
 excess. thing to an excess ; for their friendships are in ex- 
 cess, their hatreds are in excess, and they do every 
 thing else vrith the same degree of earnestness ; they 
 think also that they know every thing, and firmly 
 asseverate that they do ; for this is the cause of their 
 
 15. Their pushing every thing to an excess. And, in their 
 insults trespasses, they trespass on the side of wantonness, 
 cMeTOus and not of malice. They are likewise prone to pity, 
 not ma- from their conceiving every one to be good, and 
 licions. more worthy than in fact he is^; for they measure 
 Prone to Q^,jjgj,g -^y jj^g standard of their own guiltlessness ; so 
 
 that they conceive them to be suffering what they do 
 
 16. Are not deserve. And they are fond of mirth, on which 
 gracefiiUy account they are also of a facetious turn'; for face- 
 ace lous. tiousness is chastened forwardness of manner. 
 
 Such, then, is the disposition of the young. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Of the Passions and Habits of those advanced in Life. 
 
 1. Charac- BtJT those who are advanced in life, and who have 
 ter of the passed their prime, are of dispositions in most points 
 
 ^ Vide note ", chap. xiii. p. 154. 
 
 ' EuTpttTrtXoi. I know no word in our language of similar 
 moral signification in which the metaphorical allusion to Tpt'irM, 
 the turn^ or easy adaptation of manner, is preserved, unless in- 
 deed Minshew he correct in his etymology of Buxome, which, 
 according to him, is derived from the German word booghsacm, 
 i. FLEXins, and refers to the article pliant for further explan- 
 ation. If this etymology be true, then Milton's expression, 
 buxom, blythe, and debonnaire, though applied rather to female 
 than manly grace, will convey a notion of what is here in- 
 tended by Aristotle. But see Minshew, p. 106, edit. 1627. 
 In the Ethics, b. 4, he compares liTpairsXla to gracefulness of 
 person ; which, in conformity with the notions of most ancient 
 writers, he seems to think only discoverable in motion, not in 
 rest. Compare also " Crito, or a Dialogue on Beauty." 
 
CHAP, xm.] RHETORIC. 153 
 
 the very opposite of these. Since by reason of their 
 having lived many years, and having been deceived 
 in a greater number of instances, and having mis- 
 taken, by reason, too, that the majority of human 
 affairs are but worthless, they neither positively as- The old 
 severate any thing, and they err in every thing more ^"ioi^t- 
 on the side of defect than they ought. And they 2. ' 
 always "suppose," but never "know" certainly; 
 and, questioning every thing, they always subjoin a 
 "perhaps," or a "possibly." And they talk of every Indeci- 
 thing in this undecisive tone, asserting nothing de- ^'™- 
 cisively. And they are apt to view things in an 3. View 
 unfavourable light ; for a disposition thus to view *^°S' ™ 
 things, is the judging of every thing on the worse side. 
 side. Moreover they are apt to be suspicious from Suspi- 
 distrust, and they are distrustful from their expe- ™'^- 
 rience. And on this account they neither love nor 4. 
 hate with great earnestness ; but, conformably to the Cautious, 
 remark of Bias, they both love as though about to 
 hate, and hate as though about to love. And they 5. Cow- 
 are pusiUanimous, from their having been humbled ^^y- 
 by the course of life ; for they raise their desires to 
 nothing great or vast, but to things only which con- 
 duce to support of life. And they are illiberal ; for 6. lllibc- 
 property is one of the necessaries ; and they are at ^^• 
 the same time aware, from their experience, of the 
 difficulty of its acquisition, and of the ease with 
 which it is lost. And they are timid and apprehen- 7. Timid, 
 sive of every thing ; for their disposition is the 
 reverse of that of the young ; for they have been 
 chilled by years, but the young are warm in their 
 temperament ; so that their age has paved the way 
 to timidity ; for fear is a certain kind of chill. And 8. Teua^ 
 they are attached to Hfe, and particularly at its last ^"' "^ 
 closing day, from the circumstance that desire is of 
 some object which is absent, and that men more espe- 
 cially desire that of which they stand in need. And 9. Selfish, 
 they have self-love more than is fitting ; for this too 
 is a kind of littleness of spirit. And they live in a 
 greater degree than they ought by the standard of 
 expediency, and not of what is honourable, by reason 
 
154 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 of their self-love : for what is expedient is good rela- 
 tively, to one's self ; but what is honourable is good 
 
 10. De- absolutely. And they are insensible to shame, rather 
 spise ap- ^j^^^^ jj^^l^jg ^ -^^ affected by it ; for on account of 
 auces. their not holding equally in esteem the honourable 
 
 11. De- and the expedient, they despise appearances. Again, 
 spending, ^jjgy j^y g jjqJ; easily inspired with hope, on account of 
 
 their experience ; for the majority of things are but 
 paltry ; wherefore the generality turn out inferior to 
 the expectation ; and once more on account of their 
 
 12. Their timidity [they are apt to despond]. And they live 
 life IS one jjjore in memory than in hope ; for the remnant of 
 ry. life is brief, but what has passed is considerable ; and 
 
 hope indeed is of what is to come ; whereas memory 
 is of things gone by : the very reason this, of their 
 garrulity ; for they never cease talking of that which 
 has taken place, since they are delighted in awaken - 
 
 13. Weak ing the recollections of things. And their anger is 
 m anger, ]jeen, but faint. And their desires have, some, aban- 
 doned them, the others are faint ; so that neither are 
 they liable to the influence of desire, nor apt to act 
 in conformity to it, but with a view to gain ; on 
 which account men of this age appear to be naturally 
 temperate, for both their desires have relaxed, and 
 
 Live from they are enslaved to gain. And they live more by 
 calcula- calculation ' than by moral feeling ; for calculation is 
 
 14. Err of expediency, but moral feeling is of virtue. And, 
 ontheside in their trespasses, they trespass on the side of ma- 
 15.°Are^ lice, not of wanton insolence. The old have more- 
 apt to over a tendency to pity, but not on the same principle 
 P**y' with the young ; for the latter are thus disposed from 
 
 their love of human nature, the former from their 
 from imbecility ; since they consider tlie endurance of 
 weakness, gyery calamity at hand to them, and this was laid 
 
 Quera- down as a principle of pity ^. Whence they are que- 
 lous. 
 
 ' Their principles of action are the very contraries of those 
 which principally influence the young ; I'flos and Xoyicr/ios be- 
 ing the usual springs of action in the man of advanced life. 
 
 ^ The two leading principles of pity were stated to be, a con- 
 viction that the sufferer is undeserving what he suffers, and that 
 you consider yourself liable to be placed in similar circumstances. 
 It was on the former of these principles that the young were slated 
 
CHAP. xiY.] RHETORIC. 155 
 
 rulous, and neither facetious, nor fond of mirth ; for 
 querulousness is the very reverse of fondness for 
 mirth. 
 
 Such, then, are the dispositions of the young, and 16. How 
 of those in advanced hfe^. So that, as all welcome ^^""'S^'^ 
 an address worded to their own disposition, and a these cha- 
 speaker who resembles themselves, it is clear by em- racters. 
 plo3ring his oration in what way the orator wiU ap- 
 pear of this description, as regards himself and what 
 he says. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Of the Dispositions of Persons in tJieir mature Age. 
 
 Those who are in their prime will, it is evident, be i. Charac- 
 ter of the 
 
 matured. 
 
 in a mean in point of disposition between these, sub- ^" °^*^ 
 
 tracting the excesses of each : being neither rash in 
 
 too great a degree, (for rashness is of this description, 
 
 i. e. in excess,) nor too much given to fear, but keep- The}' are 
 
 ing themselves right in respect to both. Neither moderate. 
 
 placing confidence in all, nor distrusting all, but judg- " 
 
 ing rather in conformity to the truth. Neither living 
 
 with a view solely to what is honourable, nor with 
 
 a view only to expediency, but with a respect to both. 
 
 And conformed neither to penurious parsimony, nor 
 
 to extravagance, but to what is fitting. With the 3. 
 
 same equality do they carry themselves also in respect 
 
 to anger and to desire. And they are of a tempering Are spi- 
 
 coolness joined with spirit, and are spirited not with- "■'^^ ^*^ 
 
 to be apt to pity ; tecause they take a favovirable view of hu- 
 man nature. The old are equally liable to be affected by that 
 passion, but it is on the latter principle ; for though they view 
 human nature in an unfavourable light, yet have they so strong 
 a sense of their own liability to suffering, that they are led to 
 commiserate others. Compare chap. viii. § 7 ; and chap. xii. § 15. 
 ' In the Rambler, No. 196, the change of sentiments usual 
 as men advance from youth to age is beantifully traced ; and 
 the whole paper afforci a striking illustration of the subject 
 treated in this and the preceding chapter. 
 
156 ARISTOTLE'S [book n. 
 
 out temperate coolness : for in the young artd in 
 elderly persons these qualities are separated ; since 
 the young are spirited, and of an intemperate rash- 
 ness, while elderly persons are of a chastened spirit, 
 and timid. And thus, in a word, whatever advan- 
 tages youth and age have divided between them, the 
 middle age possesses both ; and in whatever respects 
 they are either in excess or defect, in all these it holds 
 a mean and what is fitting. 
 4. Prime But the body is in its prime from the age of thirty 
 th ^h' d™ *° ^^® ^°*^ thirty ; and the mind about the age of 
 and mind, forty-nine. Let thus much, then, have been said re- 
 specting youth, and old and mature age, and the dis- 
 positions which they severally are of. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 The characteristic Dispositions of Persons of high birth. 
 
 1. Chaiac- BuT let US treat of the goods of fortune next in order, 
 *?li'^h^'' so many of them at least as influence the dispositions 
 birth. of Dien in any particular way. 
 
 2. Ambi- Now it is the disposition of high birth, that its pos- 
 ticus, sessor is more ambitious than others ; for all, when 
 
 any possession is realized to them, are wont to ac- 
 Contemp- cumulate upon it. But high birth is nobility of an- 
 tuons. cestry ; and it is apt to indulge in contempt even of 
 those who are as good as its own ancestors ; because 
 distinctions, in proportion as they are more remote, 
 rather than recent, are held in greater esteem, and 
 afford a ready plea for arrogance. 
 
 3. Dis- But, noble, is an appellation referring to excellence 
 b't"''" n °^ hirth ; whereas, generous refers to one's not de- 
 the noble generating from the nature [of his ancestry] ; which, 
 and ffene- generally speaking, is not the case with the noble, 
 rom. ^jjj(. jjjg majority of them are ordinary persons. For 
 neratfons there is a kind of richness of produce in the genera- 
 of man tions of man, just as there is in that which arises from 
 
CHAP. XVI.] RHETORIC. 15? 
 
 the land ; and at times, should the stock be good, compared 
 there arise in a family at intervals extraordinary per- to the soil 
 sons ; and afterwards it again relaxes. And a fami- 
 ly of brilliant talent run wild into dispositions bor- 
 dering on madness ' ; as in the instances of the 
 descendants of Alcibiades, and Dionysius the elder : 
 and one of sedate wisdom, into stupidity and dul- 
 ness ; as in the instances of the descendants of Ci- 
 mon, and Pericles, and Socrates. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 The Dispositions consequent on Wealth. 
 
 AsY one, without any great penetration, may distin- i.charac- 
 guish the dispositions consequent on wealth; for *e"'ftli<* 
 [its possessors] are insolent and overbearing, from 7^^, ^' 
 being tainted in a certain way by the getting of 
 their wealth. For they are affected as though they 
 possessed every good ; since wealth is a sort of 
 standard of the worth of other things ; whence every 
 thing seems to be purchaseable by it. And they 2. 
 are affectedly delicate and purse-proud ; they are Fastidi- 
 thus delicate on account of their luxurious Kves, and "i^s. 
 the display they make of their prosperity. They are Purse- 
 purse-proud, and violate the rules of good breeding^, proud. 
 
 ' MaviKoiTEpa. In connexion with this word it should be 
 borne in mind, that the Greeks were accustomed to consider 
 every kind of enthusiastic impetuosity as a species of madness. 
 See Twining on the Poetics, note 140. 
 
 2 SoXoiKoi, the inhabitants of Soli in Cilicia, whose corrup- 
 tions of the Greek language became proverbial. The word 
 was used also to designate those who were guilty of impro- 
 priety in conduct, as well as in expresnon. Massinger, in enu- 
 merating some instances of ill breeding, uses the expression. 
 He ne'er observed you 
 To twirl a dish about, you did not like of, 
 All being pleasing to you ; or to take 
 A say of venison or stale fowl by your nose, 
 Which is a solecism at another's table, etc. 
 
 . Unnatural Combat, act iii. sc. 1. 
 
 See loo Ben Jonsoii's Fox, vol. iii. p. 275. 
 
158 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 Presum- from the circumstance that every one is wont to 
 ™ff- dwell upon that which is beloved and admired by 
 
 him, and because they think that others are emulous 
 of that, of which they are themselves. But at the 
 same time they are thus aifected reasonably enough ; 
 for many are they who need the aid of men of pro- 
 perty. Whence, too, that remark of Simonides 
 addressed to the wife of Hiero respecting the wealthy 
 and the wise ; for when she asked him, " whether it 
 were better to have been born wealthy or wise," he 
 replied, " wealthy ; for," h6 said, " he used to see 
 the wise hanging on at the doors of the wealthy." 
 
 3. Arro- And [it is a characteristic of the rich] that they 
 place "and esteem themselves worthy of being in office ; for 
 power. they consider themselves possessed of that on ac- 
 count of which they are entitled to be in office. And, 
 in a word, the disposition of the rich is that of a fool 
 amid prosperity. 
 
 4. Differ- However, the dispositions of those who are but 
 tweentiie ^^t^ly rich, and of those who have been so from of 
 newly old, are different ; inasmuch as those who have re- 
 rich and cently become rich^ have all these faults in a greater 
 have^been ^"d ^ worse degree ; for the having recently become 
 so from of rich is as it were an inexpertness in wealth. And 
 °^^- they are guilty of offences, not of a malicious nature, 
 
 but such as are either offences of contumely or in- 
 temperance ; for instance, in the case of assault or 
 adultery. 
 
 ' It is on this principle that Clytemnestra congratiilates Cas- 
 sandra on being the slave of an ancient family, father than one 
 recently advanced in the world : — 
 
 oi S'f OliTTOT' iXTTItrai/TES, ^/XTJCTay KaXtiis, 
 WflOL TE SouXotS irCLUTa, Kol irapit ITTdQfJLTJV. 
 
 jEsch. Agam. 1010. 
 
 Vide illustrations in Symmons's Translation, p. 97. See 
 Johnson's Life of Savage, p. 338, vol. vii. edit. 1823, of his 
 works; Examples, etc. See jEsch. Prom. Vinct. 35. 
 
CHAP. XVII. ] RHETORIC. 159 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 
 Of the Dispositions of Men in Power, and of the Fortunate. 
 
 Ain> in the same way on the subject of power, the i- Charac- 
 
 most striking almost of its dispositions are evident ; ^'p°o^e™ 
 
 for of these power has some in common with wealth, resembles 
 
 and others which are better. For men in power are *^ ™^ ; 
 
 more ambitious and more manly in their dispositions ^^ mo^re 
 
 than the wealthy ; from their aiming at all duties ambi- 
 
 whatsoever, which from their power they have the *""^' 
 
 means of discharging. And they are less given to manly. 
 
 trifling, because, from a neuessity of looking carefully 2. 
 
 to their power, they are constrained to a diligent at- ^jjg^g 
 
 tention. And they comport themselves with a dig- i. Are 
 
 nity which is conciliatory rather than repulsive ; for dignified. 
 
 their claims for dignity render them more conspicuous ; 
 
 on which account, they bear themselves moderately : 
 
 but conciliatory dignity is a softened and graceful 
 
 sedateness. And, if they do transgress the bounds 
 
 of right, it is not in small points, but in those which 
 
 are of importance, that they are guilty, 
 
 But good fortune, according to its constituents, is 5. Charac- 
 
 of the disposition of the states which have been de- t^rof the 
 .1 1 - 1 1-1 11 fortunate. 
 
 scribed ; since those which appear to be the greatest 
 
 instances of good fortune resolve themselves ulti- 
 mately into these states: and, besides these, to the 
 excellence of one's progeny, and to personal advan- 
 tages. But men are usually more overbearing and 6. Over- 
 inconsiderate in consequence of prosperity. But one ^^""^g- 
 disposition, and that most excellent, is a concomitant 
 of good fortune, viz. that the fortunate are lovers of 
 the gods, and are disposed toward the deity with a Yet re- 
 sort of confidence, in consequence of the goods which ligious. 
 have accrued to them from fortune. 
 
 The subject, then, of the dispositions as they con- 
 form to age and to fortune has been discussed ; for 
 from the opposites of my remarks the opposite sub- 
 jects will be evident ; the subject, for example, of the 
 disposition of a poor, or unfortunate person, or of one 
 out of power. 
 
160 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 That there are some Topics common to all the species of 
 Oratory. 
 
 1. That But since the use of persuasive orations has a refer- 
 there are gjjgg ^(j ^Ijg forming a decision (since on questions 
 Kou/A which we are acquainted with, and have decided on, 
 ilSrt. there is no further need of an oration) ; and as this is 
 their use, whether addressing his speech to a single 
 individual, the speaker endeavours to exhort or dis- 
 suade (which they do who admonish or persuade; 
 since that individual is in no less degree a judge ; 
 because the person [be he who he may], whomsoever 
 we want to persuade is, once for all, a judge) ; and 
 also if one be speaking against an adversary, or on 
 any supposed question, it has equally [a reference to 
 decision] ; (for one needs must employ a speech, and 
 sweep away objections against which, as against an 
 adversary, he directs his address); this is just as much 
 the case in demonstrative oratory (since the speech 
 commends itself to the listener just as though to a 
 judge). But he alone is strictly a judge, who decides 
 on the questions at issue in civil ' controversies : since 
 both forensic questions, and those on which men de- 
 liberate, are agitated as to how they stand. But of. 
 dispositions, as they are affected by the constitutions 
 of states, we have spoken above. So that the means 
 will now have been distinctly unfolded, both how, 
 and by the use of what things, we may render our 
 addresses ethical. 
 2. But as there was, in each species of orations, a cer- 
 tain distinct end proposed ; and as respecting all of 
 them some ideas and propositions have been ascer- 
 tained, out of which the deliberative, demonstrative, 
 and judicial orators deduce their means of persuading ; 
 and as, in addition to these, the means by which it is 
 possible for us to render our speeches ethical, have 
 been developed ; it merely remains, that we go over 
 
 ' Under the "word iroXtTiKos, he seems, according to Victo- 
 rius, to embrace judicial as well as deliberative questions. 
 
CHAP. XVIII.] RHETORIC. 161 
 
 in detail the topics which are common to the three 
 species of oratory^: fo r it is nece ssary that every 3. They 
 orator-should connect with Jhir^ich lEe topicgj)f ^"^^'^'" 
 possibility or impossibility ; and for some it will be i. Thepos- 
 necessary to attempt to show that certaia^ESgEwoll.?^^ °^~ 
 take place, and for others that they Jja.y-e, takfiruglgce. w^-°^^'' 
 And again, the topic of greatness is_commpn to all 4.u.Whe- 
 dratSry-; for every orator, whether he jxhort ordis- f^^}^^ 
 suadg,. praise or blame, accuse or defend, avafla him- or has not 
 self of amplification and diminution. taken ' 
 
 Let us also, after these points have been explained, fii'"^^e. 
 attempt to treat of enthymems in general (if we are theritwill 
 in possession of any thing on the subject) and of ex- °'^T'^5,°t, 
 amples ; in order that by subjoining what remains ^eS and 
 we may make good our original proposal. small. 
 
 But of these common topics, amplification is most 
 congenial to demonstrative oratory, as has been re- 
 marked ; possibility, as relating to the past, to ju- 
 dicial'; since on what has been its decision is made ; 
 but possibility, as relating to the future, is most con- 
 genial to deliberative. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Of Things Possible and Impossible. 
 
 Fekst, then, let us spgpk of things possible and those i. Fii-stof 
 whiclLareimpos^ble. *J^ v°^- 
 
 Tf tJienTF be possible that one contr ary ^ould ex- in^po^i- 
 is t, or be called into existence, the other contrary will hie. 
 alia_a£pea£_to_Jje_i!o^ible ; for mstonce, ~if it be Theposa^ 
 possible for a man to be convalescent, it also is which the 
 possible for him to be sick ; for the efiective power contrary 
 of contraries, inasmuch as they are contraries, is the ^^Po^sible. 
 
 * We may, if we please, consider this as the dirodoa-K of the 
 sentence ; and all the previous clauses as so many distinct pa- 
 rentheses'; as the author of the Analysis has done, p. 101. 
 
 ^ This discussion of possibility was promised in the course 
 of what he said on judicial oratory, book i. chap. xii. § 2. 
 M 
 
162 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book II. 
 
 2. The 
 like. 
 
 3. The 
 more dif- 
 ficult. 
 
 i. The 
 more ex- 
 ceUent. 
 
 same. I^_Q£j3s»-«mik*UJjHig%a]i£LjQE£_bepos^ 
 the other which is sunilar w i l l Ij e-pess Ma-algoT" If 
 tl5liSLdiffi£.ultj2e4xaasiHey-sojdIl.also_riiatwhi7^ 
 js-easier. A nd if it be possib l&fe-artbing to be pro- 
 ducei_in»a. 5tote-^iLfiScellsHmjffi-beaut?^ it jJ^Lis 
 possible- for it to .be prodaoedjj.a'iei^eaeiaLiaiSum- 
 ^tajicea; for it is more difficult for a building to be 
 5. The be- made beautiful, than simply a building. And in 
 gmmng. yg jiatever ease the commencement is possible, the 
 , fulfilment also is possible^ for of things which are 
 impossiblepnone eitner take place or begin to do so ; 
 for instance, it neither is the case, that the diameter 
 of a square is commensurable with the side, neither 
 will it ever begin to be so. AJso,-irherever_the ful- 
 ,filment is possible, so is the commencement ; ^since 
 eyery thing.iiroceedsTrom~a"'Eegmning. And if~tEe 
 
 e yery thing .u roceeds trom a ^ggmii 
 su bseq uent in being_oirprodu,eJaflar^'ej>ossible, so also 
 is the antecedent : if fnv pvanip]p,^t_be jp^siB letKat 
 a.man"sh oul3n5e p rodnpRd, sn q.lpn^iaitlthst_a;ij"'i"1d 
 shoMld-sinceoLiiuinteeadentin ita- productioii^ : _again. 
 if it be poss ible fbr_achild,-se4sdl^so for a man to 
 Jafi-^tcoducgd ; fin tjiejripcip1,e that the~Fm^i^ip£]3_n 
 7- Things pfimmpnfpmppt T hings H kearifift—aTp. posfiiblp, of 
 love ™"' which _there is. a natural Invt?.. ar-deaiiie ; for no one 
 
 The end. 
 
 6. The 
 subse- 
 quent. 
 
 loves what is impossible, neither desires it, for the 
 8,. Sub- most part at least. Also, any thing which is the 
 xectsj)fait subject of an art or science, is possible both to exist 
 ■ g] and to be produced. Likewise any thing whatso- 
 
 ever, the principle of whose production resides in 
 those whom we can compel or persuade ; such are 
 those whose superiors, or lords, or friends we are. 
 lO.Where And wherever the parts are posaiJaJj^, so alio is the 
 
 the parts jpA^^g] 'WheEgyer again the whole is poss Tbte . so also 
 
 are possi-'— — *^, — "^ Ku ;-: — ^--.—JE-,,; — r— i .^ 
 
 ble, so is a£ejhe^;ffl2:&i..geaecaliy-6peakiag : lor if the latcnet, 
 
 thewhole.'fEerorepart, and the upperleather of the shoe admit 
 
 of being brought into being, so also do the shoes 
 
 themselves : and if the shoes, then also the latchet, 
 
 • Thus it is argued, that if all may receive the apxh of re- 
 generation, baptism; all may receive its te'Xos, salvation. 
 Baptism is expressly called by St. Basil, dpx'l M"' J™?' '''*' 
 < /SdiTTicr/ia. De Spir. Sanct. c. 10. 
 
CHAP. XIX.] RHETORIC. 163 
 
 the forepart, and upperleather^; also, if tlie genus be 11. If the 
 ofjhejiumbar^ Jhjjigs^maaJMgjJOlstadH^^ fhen the 
 SEecies; andjf_the^ species, so_alsQ_the-geiHi3 : for species; 
 example, if a 7esse]~can be^produced, so can a and vice 
 trireme; and if a trireme, so can a.ve.ssel. And if, 12!^^ ' ^ "' 
 of things which have a natural relation to each other, 
 the one be possible, so is also the other ; as if the 
 double be possible, so also is the half ; and if the 
 half, so also is the double. And if a thing admits of 13- If 
 being brought into being without art or preparation, ^ °^^^ 
 a fortiori it will admit of it by the help of art and with art. 
 attention. On which principle too it has been re- 
 marked by Agatho, " Yes, truly, in some things you 
 must fare just as fortune goes ; other things there are 
 which attach to us by nece3sity and art." A1sci, if W. Ifin- 
 «B3i^*faiHgi^bejiossiJU«--iQjersons_j(Elia.,ar-e^ or cfJJ^then 
 
 ouc-infeioF%-of4€ss-prudent, njuch-more-JtsdlLit-alsQ can s'upe- 
 be-possible to their opposites ; just as Isocfates-^aid, "°>'^- 
 tha.t If it jvouid^ be_sj£aiige ifJEalb-yruia-learnt it, and 
 he-werejiat_able^to £jad,it put." 
 
 With regard, however, to t hings imposs ible, it is IS.Things 
 plain that they re sult from the contraries of the Scare the 
 aboxfisjnenliaaed. JSinciples. ~ opposite. 
 
 Questions as to the actual occurrence of any thing, 16, Se- 
 are to be viewed under the following considerations. S?^^^ 
 For, in the first place, if that which had a less natural taken 
 tendency to occur, has occurred ; then may that have place. 
 occurred which had a greater tendency. And if that 17. When 
 which is wont to take place subsequently, has taken J.^™^^^ 
 place, that also has taken place which usually does happen- 
 primarily : if, for instance, a man has forgotten, then ed. 
 also must he at some time have learnt that [of which 
 he is now forgetful]. Also, if a man was able and 18. If the 
 willing, he achieved the deed ; for all men when, being ^jfj„^'^* 
 willing, they have power, proceed to act ; for there is 
 nothing in their way. If, moreover, a man was willing 
 and had no external impediment. If, again, the act 19. And 
 
 ' The admirers of Sterne will do well, on reading this pas- 
 sage, to horrow a hint from him, and consult the learned Al- 
 bertus Rubenius upon it, or at least some one ef the many great 
 authorities mentioned chap. 19, vol. vi. of Tristram Shandy. 
 M 2 
 
164 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 under the was possible, and he was under the influence of an- 
 mfluence ggj.3 ^^^^ jf j^ yf^g^g possible, and he [the person in 
 or desire, question] was influenced by lust ; for, generally speak- 
 ing, men, if they have the power, execute that of 
 which they are desirous ; the bad from weakness of 
 principle ; and the virtuous because they desire ob- 
 20. If he jects compatible with virtue. Also, if a man was on 
 wasonthe ^|jg point of bringing the thing into action and of 
 ing it, etc. doing it ; since the probability is, that he who was on 
 21. the eve of acting, did moreover really act. Also, if 
 all those things have taken place which naturally oc- 
 cur, either as preparatory to, or on account of the oc- 
 currence in question ; as for instance, if it has light- 
 ened, it has also thundered ; and if he attempted it, 
 he has also achieved it. And if all those things 
 which naturally occur subsequently, and that on ac- 
 count of which the deed is done, have taken place, 
 then has also the prior to them and that which is the 
 cause taken place : if, for instance, it has thundered, 
 it has also lightened ; and if he acted, he also attempt- 
 ed. Of all this number there are some thus subse- 
 quent of necessity; others however merely generally. 
 22.Things With regard, however, to the non-occurrence of 
 which things, the considerations applicable will be plain from 
 happened the contraries of those above stated, 
 are to be Also with regard to what will happen, matters wiU 
 from'the become evident from the same considerations; for 
 opposite, that which is within the power and the wishes of any 
 Thirdly, Qjjg -^yjii take place. Also things which are subjects 
 23. of lust, anger, and reasonings, accompanied by power*, 
 happen , On this account, too, if persons be on the onset or on 
 are sub- ^jjg gyg ^f joing any thing, it will be done : for, ge- 
 passions. nerally speaking, things which are on the point of 
 taking place occur, rather than those which are not. 
 24. If the Also, if aU those things have preceded which natur- 
 dents^' ^^ occur before ; for instance, if it lowers, there is 
 haTe hap- a probability that it will rain. Also, if that has hap- 
 pened, pened which is on account of the thing in question, 
 2o. 
 
 '' Compare chap. v. § 3, 4. 
 
 ■* Fulmen est ubi cum potestate habitat iracundia. Publius 
 Syrus. 
 
CHAP. XIX.] RHETORIC. 165 
 
 it is probable that that will also happen ; forjngtance, 
 i£jherej3e^a_fQuadaiiaa,_iLis_EroiaifeHrlia±iter©-^^^ 
 alaQ_hfi.a house. 
 
 The subject of greatness and smallness in regard 26. 
 to affairs, also of the degrees of greater and less, and J'f°^g'^^^' 
 of things great and small in general, is clear to us from great and 
 what has been said. For, in the discussion of deUber- small. 
 ative oratory, the doctrine of the greatness of goods 
 has been stated, and respecting the greater and less 
 in the abstract. So that as with respect to each class 
 of speeches the proposed end is a good ; (for instance, 
 the expedient, — the honourable, — and the just ;) it is 
 evident that by every orator, his means of ampUfica- 
 tion are to be arrived at through the medium of these. 
 But to institute, besides this, a further inquiry into 27. 
 the subject of greatness and of excess in the abstract, 
 is. to talk idly ; since particular cases are more com- 
 pletely applicable to use than mere generalities. 
 
 On the subject, then, of what is possible and im- 
 possible, — and whether the fact has or has not oc- 
 curred, — vrill or will not occur, and moreover on the 
 subject of greatness and smallness in regard to affairs, 
 let thus much hav€ been said. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 Of Examples ; — hoiv many species there are of them, in 
 what manner, and when we are to employ them. 
 
 It remains that I treat of the means of effecting 1. Exam- 
 persuasion which are common to every class of sub- P''^ '^' 
 jects, since I have already treated of such as are 
 peculiar. And these common, means of pfirsnasinn 
 areJasfl-J^n .species, examplg,jaiid,-^^mem ;, for Jiig 
 sefljimg.nt_i_s part oFan enthymem. Let-a&-4beBsfirst 2. Aspe- 
 treat of example ; felf^he Jxanjgle is corre^ondent "ies of in- 
 tgjadBCtion ; and HidjaetiQftjsLa.pxmciple. "° '™' 
 
 But of examples there are two species; for one Twosorts. 
 
166 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book II. 
 
 1st. Quot- 
 ing real 
 instances. 
 2nd. Fa- 
 bricating 
 them. 
 3. This 
 latter is 
 subdi- 
 vided into 
 i. irapa- 
 
 ii. \oyos. 
 Example. 
 
 4. Illus- 
 tration. 
 
 6. Fable. 
 
 species of example is the quoting real matters of fact 
 which have actually taken place ; another is the fabri- 
 cating them yourself: and of this method, one species 
 is illustration, the other fable ; like those of -SSsop 
 and the African legends. Again ', example is some- 
 what of this description, as if one were to assert that 
 the state ought to set itself in order against the king, 
 and not to allow him to make himself master of Egypt ; 
 and this, because aforetime Darius passed not into 
 Greece, before that he had seized that country ; but 
 when he had seized it, he passed across ; so that the 
 present king, should he seize Egypt, will pass over ; 
 on which account he is not to be permitted. 
 
 Illustration is of the nature of Socrates's dis- 
 courses : for instance, were one to say that it is not 
 fitting that magistrates chosen by lot should be in 
 office; for it is just the same thing as though one 
 were to pick out wrestlers by lot ; not taking such 
 as are able to contend, but those' on whom the lot 
 may fall: or as though men were to draw lots for 
 that person of the crew whom it might beflt to take 
 the helm ; as if it became the person on whom the 
 lot fell, and not him who understood the art. 
 
 But fable is such as that of Stesichorus in opposi- 
 tion to Phalaris, and that of .3Esop in behalf of the 
 demagogue. For Stesichorus, when the citizens of 
 Himera had chosen Phalaris^ general with absolute 
 powers, and were on the eve of assigning him a body 
 guard, after other things which he said, related to 
 them a fable : " That a horse was sole master of a 
 meadow ; but that on a stag's coming in and spoiling 
 the pasture, in his wish to be avenged of the stag, 
 he asked some man whether he should be able, in 
 
 ' He here appUea tlie generic term to the species first men- 
 tioned, viz. the citing actual matters of fact. 
 
 ^ Bentley seems to suspect this story as applying to Phala- 
 ris, " because," says he, " Conon, a writer in Julius Caesar's 
 time, gives us the very same narrative ; but, instead of Phala- 
 ris, he says it was Gelon that Stesichorus spoke of. And the 
 circumstances of Gelon's history seem to countenance Conon ; 
 for Gelon was in great favour and esteem with the Himerse- 
 ans." Conon, Narrat. 42. Bentl. in Phalaris, p. 38. 
 
CHAP. XX.] RHETORIC. 167 
 
 conjunction with him, to chastise the stag. The man 
 said [that he would be able] if he would take the 
 bit, and himself were to mount him with his darts. 
 When, however, he had agreed to this, and the man 
 was mounted, the horse, instead of being revenged, 
 was himself already the slave of the man. And in 
 the same way do you also (says he) look to it, lest, 
 in your wish to avenge yourselves on your enemies, 
 you suffer in the same way as the horse ; for already, 
 through your choice of a commander with independ- 
 ent power, you have the bit in your mouths : but 
 if you assign him a body guard, and permit him to 
 mount into the saddle, you will become, from that 
 moment forth, the slaves of Phalaris." 
 
 And -3Esop, when pleading at Samos in behalf of 6. 
 a demagogue who was tried for his life, said, " That 
 a fox in crossing a river was thrust out of her course 
 into a drain, and that, being unable to get out, Sne 
 was harassed for a long time, many horse leeches 
 having got hold of her ; but a hedgehog wandering 
 by, when he saw her, taking compassion on her, 
 asked whether he should pick off the horse leeches 
 from her ; that the fox however would not permit 
 him ; but on his asking why, she repUed, ' Because 
 these are indeed already filled from me, and now 
 suck but a little blood ; if, however, you should pick 
 them off, others, who are hungry, coming up will 
 drain off the little blood which remains. But (said 
 he). Oh Samians, thus also does this man no longer 
 injure you ; for he is wealthy : should you, however, 
 put him to death, others who are poor will come, 
 who vrill exhaust you while they filch the public 
 money." 
 
 But fables are adapted to deliberative oratory, and 7. Fables 
 possess this advantage ; that to hit upon facts which ^o*?,.^™^^ 
 have occurred in point is difficult ; but with regard Kberative 
 to fables it is comparatively easy. For an orator orator : 
 ought to construct them just as he does his illustra- 
 tions, if he be able to discover the point of similitude, 
 a thing which will be easy if he be of a philosophical 
 
168 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 8. being turn of mind 3. Cases, then, in the shape of fables,' 
 <"^y- are the easier to bring forward ; but those ■ are more 
 
 availing with a view to deliberation, which are put 
 upon the ground of facts ; because, generally speak- 
 ing, the future resembles the pasf*. 
 
 9. He who It will, moreover, be right for one who has not 
 hasnot enthymems to employ his examples like positive 
 memlwm proofs ; since the persuasive efficacy of your speech 
 use exam- -will be produced by them : but one who possesses 
 pies as [enthymems] should employ them like evidence, put- 
 and put ting them forward after his enthymems, in way of a 
 themflrst. conclusion. Because, if they be put first, they bear 
 has en- resemblance to induction ; and induction, except in 
 thymems few instances, is not proper to rhetoric ; whereas 
 uses ex- -^y^hen put in at the end, they resemble evidence ; and 
 
 3,111 T}1gS Q,S ' •/ ' 
 
 testimo- a witness in every case influences belief. On which 
 nies, and account, there is moreover a necessity imposed on 
 \aS '^^ ^^'^ ^'^° P"**^ them Jirst of citing many ; for him, 
 
 hpwever, who states them in conclusion even one is 
 
 sufficient ; for a credible witness, though but single, 
 
 is serviceable. 
 
 The number, then, of the species of examples, 
 
 how many they are, and how and when they are to 
 
 be used, has been stated. 
 
 ' He again remarks on the facility here ascribed to minds 
 of a philosophical turn, when, in speaking of metaphors, he 
 remarks, t6 ofioiov Kal in iroXii dti-xovcn ^^mpziv, suo-toxoV) lib. 
 iii. cap. xi. § 5. 
 
 ■* This is the principle on which he has all along recom- 
 mended example as more peculiarly available to the views of 
 the deliberative orator. At the end of his illustrations of the 
 subject of demonstrative rhetoric, after stating amplification to 
 be more proper to it than either of the other common means 
 of persuasion, he says, 'rd irapa&e.LyfxoLTa xoTs (rU|Lt/3ou\fUTifcots: 
 i/c yap TOJf Trpoy&yovoTwv Ta fLtWovra KaTUfiavTEVopEVOt Kpi- 
 vopiv, lib. i. cap. ix. § 40. Neither, says he, (cap. iv. § 8,) 
 ought the orator to rely on the result of his own observation, 
 A-W dvayKoiou /cat twv Trapfi tois 5X\ois EiiptjpiEvajv icrTopiKov 
 
CHAP. XXI.] RHETORIC. 169 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 Of Moral Sentiments, — what they are, and of how many 
 species, — how they are to he employed, — and what advan- 
 tages they possess. 
 
 On the subject of the use of maxims, after it has i. Maxim, 
 been stated what a maxim is, it will most easily be- y"""/"!- 
 come clear both in what cases, on what occasions, and 
 what persons it befits to avail themselves of the 
 enunciation of maxims in their speeches. 
 
 Now the maxim. .is an nspgrtiaii, and yet not re - 2. Itsdefi- 
 spe ctiag parti milqrs, as what kind of person Iphi- luti""- 
 
 eratpk was, }mtm_snrr^rfpn^j-fjf pnhjpft ; neither is 
 
 it on e^ey;^ general subject ', as, that what is straight 
 is opposed to what is curved ; but it is respecting as 
 many subjects as moral conduct is concerned about, 
 and as are objects of choice or avoidance in acting. 
 So that, as the enthymem is a form of reasoning Conclu- 
 nearly [confined] to this description of subjects, both sionsof 
 t he conc lusions of enthymems ^nd their premises, thymems 
 g|tejLjJi£5jH5mstic;;ibjjrJas^eeir^ are max- 
 
 come. maxims^. Take an instance: "A man who is '"'*■ 
 
 ' Having told you that maxims are certain general propo- 
 sitions, he cautions you against supposing that every general 
 proposition deserves this appellation. For example, mathe- 
 matical truths are asserted in propositions, general enough it 
 is true, which however do not come up to the notion which 
 Aristotle would have you form of the 71/10/1x1). I hardly know 
 whether it be allowable to attempt an explanation of Aristotle 
 from a popular comedy ; but those readers who remember the 
 School for Scandal, may probably derive some illustration of 
 this subject from the ' sentiments' there put in the mouth of 
 Joseph Surface; e. g. " The heart that is conscious of its own 
 integrity, is ever slow to credit another's treachery." Act iv. 
 scene 3. 
 
 ^ In other words, the ma xim is to the enthy mem what pro- 
 nositiEHBTSETS-^tlggignis; NTjt-tETevery enthymenTthJ^lhe 
 ywJjDOTlEoid this relation, but to such only as are conversant 
 with " the actions and passions of common life." Aristotle 
 has not ventured to tell us that all enthymems relate to these 
 subjects; he says only that " nearly" all of them are so con- 
 versant ; irepi ToioiiTuiu eo-ti ax^Sov. 
 
170 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 in his sound mind never ought to educate his cliil- 
 dren so as to be too highly skilled'." ]SkwM;kis-is a 
 majsim: but if the i!©asQn_and^ the jcauae.Jffih-yi he 
 should not do so, be addael^he whDle^[<;onjointly] will 
 
 become an enthymem ; ^us, " for besides 
 
 the-i-ndolence whicK they contract, they will attach 
 to themselves the bitter jealousy of the citizens." 
 Again, this : " There is not a man who in every 
 respect is happy*:" and the following: "There is 
 not one of all mankind who is free'," are maxims: 
 and the last becomes an enthymem, if added to the 
 
 following proposition, " ;— — for either he is the 
 
 slave of money or of fortune.'^ 
 S.Maxinis If, then, the maxim be what it has been described, 
 kinds *"" there will necessarily be fouiJsinds_Q£jBasims : for 
 either they will be M;t|A_thfi.awie«ed-Eeason, qzwith- 
 4. i. fj.£T' out it.__ LNow the maxims which need proof are all 
 ir'^vlu"' '^uch as assert any thing which contravenes received 
 iiriA-dyou. Opinion, or is doubtful ; but those which state nothing 
 contrary to people's notions [do well enough] with- 
 5. out the addition of proof. And of these last it can- 
 not but be that some will need no proofs, from their 
 having heen previously knoion^as, " The best thing 
 for a man, as it seems to me at least, is health ;" — ^be-^ 
 cause to nine-tenths of mankind this seems to be the 
 case : and that others simultaneously with their being 
 uttered become evident to such as turn their attention 
 to them ; as, " There is no lover who does not always 
 6. Those love." And again, of those which have proof sub- 
 Wrou'are Joii®"^! some are a part of an enthymem, just as, " A 
 either, man who is in his sound mind • never ought," etc. 
 1st. part Others are essentially enthymems, and not part of 
 thymem'; ^" enthymem ; the which obtain more than any 
 or 2nd. other species. And these are all those in which the 
 ^^^^J- reason for what is asserted appears wrought in, as 
 
 ^ Euripides, Medea, 294. 
 
 ■* From a lost drama of Euripides, entitled Sthenoboea. 
 
 ' Euripides, Hecuba, 864. 
 
 ° I have ventured thus to render liriXoyoi ; for that such is 
 Aristotle's meaning, is evident from his having himself used 
 dTTo'Ssigis, at the beginning of the section, to denote the same 
 thing. 
 
CHAP. XXI.] RHETORIC. 171 
 
 in this maxim: "Being yourself a mortal, do not These laet 
 cherish immortal wrath : " — for the assertion that, '^^ ™°^ 
 " one ought not always to cherish wrath," is a maxim; 
 that, however, which is added, viz. "because you 
 are a mortal," states the reason why. Similar to 
 which is the following : " It^is fitting that a mortal 
 conceive mortal notions, not thataTEemg^Hyjifid to 
 death 8hoiild_thinE.-o£ what is immortal'." ^ 
 
 From what has been said it has then become evi-|7.Ma3dms 
 dent, as well how many the species of maxims are, ^"nt^'vigt 
 as also to what kind of subjects they are severally have the 
 adapted. For on subjects which may be questioned, ^"^^ 
 or contravene received opinions, the orator must not „ g^. 
 use those without the reason annexed ; but let him joined, 
 either, prefixing the reason, use the conclusion as a- 
 maxim, thus— ^" For my part, as then it neither is 
 good to be exposed to envy, nor to be indolent, I 
 assert that it is not good to be educated ;" or, stating 
 this [which here is the conclusion] first, subjoin that 
 which was prefixed^. Observing that on subjects 
 which do not contravene received opinions, but are 
 doubtful, that he annex the reason why as concisely 
 as possible. And on subjects such as these the 8. With 
 apophthegms of the LacedEemonians are very suit- ^°^f^ 
 able, and sayings which have an air of mystery ; as 
 if one were to apply that which Stesichorus said be- 
 fore the Locrians, "that they ought not to be inso- 
 lent, lest their cigalas should sing upon the ground'." 
 The employment of maxims JbfiCDmea^i^iB__adLO is 9. Maxims 
 
 1 So also says Horace : — 
 
 Quid aefemis minorem 
 Consiliis animum fatigas? Od. ii. 11, 11. 
 A notion, hy the way, which Aristotle controverts elsewhere, 
 Nich. Eth. X. 7. 
 
 ' To state the rule in the words of Hobbes, it is this — " A 
 sentence not manifest ought to he either inferred or confirm- 
 ed ; inferred^ (as in the text,) confirmed thus, — A wise man 
 will not have his children over-learned, (prefixing what, in the 
 former disposition, had been put last,) seeing too much learning 
 both softens a m.an's mind, and procures him envy among his 
 fellow-citizens" (and subjoining what before had heenprefixed,^ 
 
 ' Meaning, lest their country should be so utterly devastated 
 as that not a tree would remain for a cigala to sit upon. 
 
172 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book II. 
 
 suit the 
 old. 
 
 \j 
 
 10. 
 
 11. Com- 
 mon ones 
 are useful. 
 
 12. Old 1 
 
 Lsayings.^' 
 
 " 13. It is 
 fi;ood to 
 contra- 
 Tone a 
 common 
 maxim. 
 
 rather advanced in Ijfe ; and particularlj_a3 respects 
 siftgectslBput which, each happens to beweirinform- 
 e^"! SmceJbi_piiejnoTso..adYapced in age lo sport ' 
 Inaxims is bad taste, just as it is for Jiiin to Jia.v:e re- 
 course to fables: and the use of them oa suljjects 
 about which" one is iffloacant is silly, and . argues a 
 want of education, /there is a sufficient sign of the 
 truth of this ; for thetiOors of the country are of aU 
 other people most fond of hammering out maxims, 
 and set them forth with great volubility 77 Also the 
 stating generally a maxim which is, in^ftEt, not ge- 
 neral, is most especially befitting in appeals to the 
 feelings, and in the act of exciting indignation ; and 
 jthen either at the beginning, or after the proof. 
 |Again, it is proper to avail one's self of maxims 
 which are current and common, if they be of any 
 service ; for from their being common they appear to 
 be correct, as though every one acknowledged their 
 truth": this one, for instance, (if the orator be ex- 
 horting persons to face the hazard, though they have 
 not sacrificed,) " One omen there is which is best, to 
 defend one's country ;" — or to face it, though they be 
 few in number, — " Mars is common ;" and to cut off 
 the children of their foes, what though they have 
 done no injury, — " Pie is a fool who, after slaying the 
 father, still spares the child '^." 
 
 Some old sayings too are maxims; for example, 
 the expression, "Next neighbour to an Athenian." 
 It is also proper to quote maxims which even contra- 
 vene the current sayings, (I mean by current sayings 
 such as this, " Know thyself ;" or this, " Too much 
 of one thing is good for nothing ;") whenever your 
 moral character may be likely to show itself to greater 
 advantage, or the thing spoken is said in an impas- 
 
 '" A young man ought not to use maxims. 
 " On the principle, — Vox populi est vox Dei. 
 " So thought Lee'a hero, Csesar Borgia, for he tells Ma- 
 cliiavel in the tragedy, 
 
 'Tis not my way to lop, for then the tree 
 May .sprout again ; but root him, and he lies 
 Never to bluster. Act v. sc. 2. 
 
CHAP. XXI.] IIHETORIC. 173 
 
 sioned manner. The speaking in an impassioned 
 manner is, as if one in a passion were to assert, " that 
 it was a falsehood that one ought to know himself ; 
 at least, this man, had he known himself, would never 
 have claimed to be your general '^" The moral cha- 
 racter appears better [when we contradict a maxim] 
 thus, "it does not become men, as some assert, to 
 love as though they were about to hate, but to hate 
 as though they were about to love." And we ought 11. 
 to give a manifestation of our moral principle by 
 means of the diction we employ, otherwise to subjoin 
 the reason ; for instance, either stating the sentence 
 thus, " we ought to love, not as they tell us, but as 
 though always about to love, for the other is the part 
 of an insidious man :" or thus, " the common maxim 
 does not please me ; for it is the duty of the true 
 friend at least to love as though he were always about 
 to love." " Nor again [does this please me], that we 
 ought to carry nothing to excess ; since 'tis our duty 
 to hate the wicked at least to the very extreme." 
 
 They contribute, too, a considerable aid to our 15. Max- 
 orations : first owing to the vanity of the audience ; ™^ '^ ^ 
 for they feel a pleasure if one, speaking generally, j; From 
 happens to hit upon ideas which they hold on any gratifying 
 particular point. My meaning, however, will be ^f ^Jg""*^ 
 plain in this way, as also the manner in which we audience, 
 ought to catch at them ; for the maxim, as has been 
 stated, is an assertion universally, and men feel de- 
 lighted when that is asserted universally, which they 
 happen previously to have taken up as their opinion 
 upon particulars. If, for instance, a man chanced to 
 have bad neighbours or children, he would hail the 
 man who should say, "nothing is more annoying 
 than dwelling near people," or, "nothing is more silly 
 than to beget children." 
 
 " The words probably of some panegyrist of Iphicrates, 
 who, in the warmth of declamation, must have produced a 
 very great effect by contradicting a maxim so generally re- 
 ceived, and which bore an authority more than human, (e coslo 
 descendit yj/wOt o-EauToi/,) while at the same time he placed 
 the merit of the general in a most striking light. For the 
 original obscurity of Iphicrates, see book i. chap, vii § 32. 
 
174 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book II. 
 
 So that we should form a guess, some how or other, 
 as to the opinions which our audience happen to have 
 taken up with ; then to speak on these subjects ge- 
 16. nerally conformably to them. This one advantage 
 ": '^'^^7 the application of maxims must needs possess, and 
 Seech an another superior to it ; for it gives our orations an 
 airofcha- air of character. But those orations bear an im- 
 racter. prggg of character in which the principle is manifest. 
 And all maxims produce this effect by reason of the 
 speaker's asserting universally on things which are 
 the objects of deliberate choice : so that should the 
 maxims be good, they make the speaker also to ap- 
 pear a man of worthy character. 
 
 Such, then, be our discussion on the subject of the 
 maxim, of its nature, its species, the manner in which 
 it is to be employed, and the advantages which it 
 possesses. 
 
 CHAP. XXII, 
 
 Of Enthymems. 
 
 1. Enthy- Lbt US speak generally of enthymems, in what way 
 mems. ^g ought to Seek for them, and afterwards of the 
 topics, (roTTot,) for the pature of the two is respect- 
 ively different'. /' 
 2. It has been stated before, that the enthymem is a 
 kind of syllogism, alst) in what way it is a syllogism, 
 and in what respect it differs from the syllogism of 
 3. i. They logic ; for we should make our conclusions without 
 must not taking up our assumptions either many stages back, 
 fetched, or all of them together: the one process from its 
 length is obscure ; the other, from its stating what is 
 plain, is waste of words. 
 
 And this is the reason why men of no education 
 have more persuasive influence over the mob than 
 
 ' See ,the argument founded on the distinction between them 
 chap. xxvi. § 1. 
 
CHAP. XXII.] RHETORIC. 175' 
 
 men of high acquirements, as the poet ^ says, " that 
 
 the unlearned speak more in unison with the feelings 
 
 of the mob ;" for the latter address them in common 
 
 and general points, the former, from the store of their 
 
 information, in a manner which comes home to them. 
 
 So that we are not to found our addi'ess on any thing ii. They 
 
 which may seem to the purpose, but on certain defi- '"^'^e 
 
 nite points ; such, for example, as seem right to the nite 
 
 judges, or those whose opinions they acknowledge ; points. 
 
 and the reason for this is, that it will appear to be 
 
 the case either to all or most of them : moreover we iu. Our 
 
 should draw our conclusions not only from necessary, ''.™<^'"" ^ 
 
 *' " sionsmust 
 
 but also from contingent premises '. be draivn 
 
 First, then, you ought to be aware that it is neces- '^^''^ ne- 
 
 sary, respecting every subject on which you have to ^nd'con- 
 
 speak and to draw conclusions, wIj^Hier it be through tingently, 
 
 the medium of the rhetorical syllogism ■*, or of any 4. We 
 
 other whatsoever, to be mastej^ either of all or some F"™* , 
 
 of the facts inherent in it : for having none of them, facts of 
 
 you will not be able to draw your inferences from any the case in 
 
 thing ^. My meaning is this : how shall we be able ji'eTof '"'" 
 
 to give advice to the Athenians, whether they ought oratory. 
 
 to go to war, without being informed what their forces 5. Delibe- 
 
 are, whether naval or military, or both ; and these in ''^t'™- 
 
 how great numbers ; also what are their resource* ; 
 
 or their allies and enemies ; and yet further, what 
 
 former wars they have waged, and in what manner, 
 
 and other points of this description : or how to eulo- 6. Epi- 
 
 gize them, unless we be informed of the sea-fight at d^otic. 
 
 Salamis, or the battle at Marathon, or the exploits 
 
 achieved by them in behalf of the Heraclidse, or some 
 
 other such points ; for it is on the real or apparent 
 
 honourable traits attaching to each object that all 
 
 orators found their panegyrics. And in the same 'i- 
 
 = Euripides, Hippolytus, 989. 
 
 ^ We should allege not TtKy.npi.a. alone, but ei/cotci as well. 
 
 "• IIoXiTiKos <!\jWoyi<!)x.tis means the syllogism peculiar to 
 rhetoric. Victor, vid. Animadv. 
 
 * Aristotle has himself given an outline of the kind of in- 
 formation which ought to be possessed with a Tiew to speaking 
 on five of the most important questions of deliberative oratory, 
 book i. ohap. 4. 
 
176 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 way it is on their opposites that they ground their 
 reprehension, always looking out for any thing of that 
 nature which either attaches, or appears to attach, to 
 the subject ; suppose [the case of a censure passed oh 
 the Athenians] because they subjected the Greeks to 
 themselves, and reduced to a state of servitude the 
 people of jEgina and Potidsea, who were their allies 
 against the barbarian, and bore off the prize of high- 
 est worth ^; and every other transaction of this nature, 
 and whatever other such error may attach to them. 
 Judicial. And in the same way those orators who accuse and 
 defend, construct their accusations and defences on a 
 
 8. view of existing circumstances'': there is no differ- 
 ence in your pursuing this 'process, whether it be re- 
 specting Athenians or Lacedaemonians, men or gods. 
 For in advising Achilles, or in praising or blaming 
 him, in accusing and defending him, we must assume 
 the traits which attach, or appear to attach, to his 
 character ; in order that from among their number 
 we may, in so praising or blaming him, allege what- 
 ever things honourable or base attach to him; and in 
 accusing or defending him, whatever things just or 
 unjust; and in advising him, whatever is beneiicial 
 
 9. or injurious. And in a similar manner respecting 
 any business whatsoever; as, respecting justice, the 
 question whether it be expedient [must be discussed] 
 on the ground of what appertains to justice or ex- 
 
 10. pediency. So that as all men appear thus to con- 
 struct their proofs, whether they draw their inferences 
 with greater accuracy or remissness, (for they do not 
 make their assumptions out of every subject, but 
 from those circumstances which are inherent in each 
 question,) and by reason that it is manifestly im- 
 possible otherwise to prove ; it is evident, then, that 
 it is necessary, as I said in the Topics, to be in pos- 
 
 ® Herodotus, viii. 93. 
 
 ' Having illustrated his meaning by two examples, taken 
 respectiTely from subject^ of deliberative and demonstrative 
 rhetoric, he concludes with a third from the subjects recognised 
 by judicial; it being his gi-eat object to Iceep awake in the 
 memory of the reader the original grand division of questions. 
 
CHAP. XXII.] RHETORIC. 177 
 
 session of certain select propositions on points wliich 
 may occur, and are most convenient: and [it is 11- The 
 evident] that the orator should conduct his inquiry ^„^5gj2e 
 respecting questions which arise on the sudden in the the pecu- 
 same manner, not turning his view aside to indefinite ^^ 
 points, but to the actual points of the case which the ^™ " 
 oration is concerning ; and embracing in his sketch 
 the greatest number he is able, and those coming the 
 nearest to the point ; for in proportion as he is master 
 of the greater number of the things inherent in the 
 case, by so much the easier will it be to effect proof ; 
 and in proportion as these are the nearer to the point, 
 in the very same proportion will they be more peculiar, 
 and less vague. By vague I mean, the praising 12. 
 Achilles because he is a man, and one of the deified 
 heroes, and made war against Troy ; for these are 
 points attaching to a thousand others beside : so that 
 such an orator no more praises Achilles than he does 
 Diomed. But by peculiar I mean, those which be- 
 fall no one else than to Achilles, for instance, . the 
 slaying Hector, the bravest of the Trojans ; and 
 Cycnus, who, being himself invulnerable, prevented 
 aU the forces from landing ; and that he joined the 
 expedition the youngest, and without being bound by 
 an oath ; and whatever other topics are of this de- 
 scription. One element of enthymems, then, is that The topic 
 of selection ; and this is the iirst which partakes of '^ selec- 
 the nature of topics. 
 
 And now let us state the elements of enthymems ; 13. 
 (but by place^ and element of an enthymem I mean 
 the same thing). First, however, let us treat of those 14. Two 
 points concerning which it is necessary first to speak. ^°^ °^ 
 For of enthymems there are two species ; the one mems : 
 species are confirmative, that such is or is not the StiKTiKa. 
 fact ; and the other refutative : and they differ just '^«'''^"'"^- 
 as, ia logic, the syllogism and the elenchus differ. 
 And the confirmative enthymem is the deducing a 15. 
 conclusion from acknowledged premises ; the refuta- 
 
 ^ Ciun pervestigare argumentum aliquod Tolumus, locos nosse 
 debemus ; sic enim appellatse sunt hie quasi sedes, e quibxis 
 argumenta promuntur. Cicero, Topic, cap. ii. 
 N 
 
178 ARISTOTLE'S [book: ii. 
 
 tive, however, is the deducing an inference which ia 
 18. not admitted. Now the general arguments nearly on 
 each class of subjects necessary and useful to be 
 known are in our possession ; for propositions have 
 been selected on each [branch of rhetoric] ; so that 
 the topics out of which one must allege his enthy- 
 mems, whether on questions of good or evil, just or 
 unjust, honourable or dishonourable, select points 
 moreover respecting the dispositions, the passions, 
 and the habits, having been collected above, are like- 
 wise actually before us. 
 17. But let us, in a diiferent manner, further make as- 
 sumptions respecting all the classes of rhetoric, and 
 putting a mark on them severally as we proceed, 
 state both the refutative and confirmative elements, 
 as well as those of apparent enthymems, which, how- 
 ever, are not really enthymems, for neither in truth 
 are they [the elements of actual] syllogisms. When 
 these points have been elucidated, we shall discuss the 
 subject of starting objections to enthymems, and the 
 means of their solution, from what sources we ought 
 to adduce them. 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 JElements of Enthymems. 
 
 1. i. Ele- There is one element of confirmative enthymems, 
 SToutra- "^si'i^'^We from contraries; for we should consider, 
 ries. whether the contrary quality be inherent in the con- 
 
 trary subject ; doing away the argument [grounded 
 thereon] if it be not inherent ; and if it be inherent, 
 founding one thereon ourselves : for example, the ar- 
 gument that " Temperance is good, because intem- 
 perance is injurious:" or, as it is in the Messeniac' 
 oration, " If war be the cause of our present trou- 
 
 ' An oration spoken by Alcidamas in behalf of the Messe- 
 nians, referred to above, i. 13, ^ 3. See the Sophism. Eudi- 
 bras, P. ii. c. ii. 5 123. 
 
CHAP, xxiii.] RHETORIC. 179 
 
 bles, of course we shall put ourselves riglit again 
 with the return of peace." And, " If in truth it be 
 not just to he angry with those who unwillmgly do 
 us harm ; neither, if one on compulsion shall do 
 good to any one, is it his duty to be grateful to him." 
 And, " If to speak falsely is among men available 
 to persuade ; there is no anomaly in supposing, on 
 the contrary, that many things which are true fail of 
 being believed." 
 
 Another is derivable from conjugate inflections'^; 2. ii. Of 
 for the qualities must either be inherent consistently, infle"? 
 or not at aU ; for example, the argument, that " the tions. 
 just is not in every case a good, for then also would 
 that which is justly be well ; now it is not, however, 
 desirable to die justly^. 
 
 Another from relatives; for if to ojie party attach 3. 
 the idea of his having acted honourably or justly, to ™,- ^y™- 
 the other also will attach that of having suffered 
 [honourably, etc.]. Also, if to comwiawd be just, so 
 also is the having executed [the command] ; for ex- 
 ample, just as that farmer of the revenue, Diomedon^, 
 said of the revenues, " If it be not base for you to 
 put them up for sale, neither is it for us to purchase 
 them." And if the idea that he has suffered justly 
 or honourably be on the side of the patient, so will 
 it also be on that of the agent; and if on that of the 
 agent, then also on that of the patient. There is, 
 however, in this way of arguing, room for passing 
 off some false reasoning^: for if the person has justly 
 suffered any thing, he indeed has justly been a suf- 
 ferer, but perhaps not so at your hands. On which 
 
 ^ See book i. 7, § 27. Hobbes calls this cognomination, or 
 ajfinity of words. 
 
 ' See book i. 9, § 15. 
 
 ■* Cicero Illustrates this "place" by a similar example: 
 " Nam si Rhodiis turpe non est portorium locare^ nee Hernia- 
 creonti quidem turpe est eonditeei'e." De Inven. lib. i. 
 
 * Upon this fallacy the reasoning of Cleon was grounded in 
 the debate about the Mitylenaeans ; and Dioclotus, in his re- 
 ply, uniformly striTCS at exposing it, while he urges, that how- 
 ever they might merit death, the Athenians were not the peo- 
 ple who should inflict it. Thucyd. lib. iii. 
 N 2 
 
180 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii 
 
 account we should -yiew tlie question separately, — 
 whether the patient deserve to suffer, and whether 
 the agent have a right to inflict the suffering; that 
 done, to employ the facts in whatever way may suit 
 our purpose : for at times, considerations of this 
 kind do not harmonize ; just as in the Alcmseon of 
 Theodectus, " Did no man hate thy jjaother ? " In his 
 reply he tells her, that it is fitting to consider the 
 points taken separately ; and when Alphesibosa asks 
 how, taking her up, he says, " That she indeed de- 
 served death, they did decree ; but at the same time 
 that I ought not to be the slayer." And just so the 
 trial respecting Demosthenes, and of the persons who 
 slew Nicanor. For when they had been adjudged to 
 have slain him justly, it appeared that he had also 
 been justly put to death. Again, respecting the per- 
 son who met his death at Thebes, respecting whom 
 some one bade the question be decided, whether he 
 were deserving death ; as though it were not unjust 
 to slay one who deserved to die. 
 i. Another element is derivable from the relations of 
 iv. From greater and less^; for instance: " If not even the groA 
 son^m"' know every thing, hardly I should suppose do men ;" 
 three for it is to say, that if the quality be not inherent in 
 ways. ^jj^j. -jyiiiQij ^ould more naturally possess it ; then it 
 tiori. is evident, that in that which would less naturally 
 
 possess it, it is not inherent, 
 ii. a mi- -A-"<i tke argument, that " he assaults his neigh- 
 jjm. hours, who even does so to his father ;" is derived 
 from the element, if the less probability exist, so also 
 does the greater; [which is available] in reference to 
 whether of the two points it may be needful to prove, 
 whether that it is or is not the fact. 
 5. iii. By And again, by parity of reasoning, when it is said, 
 panty of « j^^^ jg jjjy father to be pitied in that he has lost his 
 incr. children, and is not in truth QDneus who has lost his 
 
 noble offspring ? " and the argument, " If indeed The- 
 seus committed no wrong, neither did Paris ;" and, 
 "If Tyndarus' sons did not act unjustly, neither did 
 
 ° Tlie argument a fortiori. 
 
CHAP, xxm.] RHETORIC. 181 
 
 Paris ;" and this, " Suppose Hector did slay Patro- 
 clus, Paris slew Achilles ;" and this, " If other artists 
 are not to be held cheap, neither are philosophers ;" 
 and, "If generals are not held cheap because they 
 are frequently vanquished, neither are sophists ;" and 
 that, " K it behoves an individual to have a care for 
 your glory, it also behoves you to regard that of 
 Greece." 
 
 Another element arises from the consideration of 6. v. From 
 time '', as Iphicrates urged in his oration against Har- ^^^^ ° 
 modius, " that if before my doing it, I had claimed to 
 have the honour of a statue, ye would have granted 
 it ; wiU ye not then grant it me now that I have 
 achieved it? — Do not, therefore, engage yourselves 
 under promises, when about to receive ; and, when 
 you have experienced the benefit, withdraw them." 
 And, on another occasion, in reference to the The- 
 bans permitting Philip to pass through into Attica, 
 the argument that, " if, before his aiding them against 
 the Phocians, he had claimed a passage, they would 
 have promised ; it were then an absurd thing, if, be- 
 cause he threw himself on them, and had confidence 
 in them, they should not let him march through*." 
 
 Another element is deduced from assertions made 7. 
 respecting yourself retorted upon your adversary ; jetortiua' 
 and the term is of exceeding service, as is exemplified assertions 
 
 ' Under this head he considers both Time generally, and also 
 OpportuTuty (Katp6s)i, -which, however, have been thus distin- 
 guished — JLpotios k<TTiv kv (J KOipoe, Kai Kaipos, ku m ^povoi oh 
 ■TroXus. Hippocrates, in Prsecept. 61. ^aipd^ again has been 
 described as o wpoirtpuii^ /cat dpfxooLo^ EKatrTta xpovo^- 
 
 ° A striking instance of appeal to this topic occurs in Mac- 
 beth, act i. 
 
 Ladi/ Macbeth. then you were a man ; 
 
 ■ Nor time, nor place, 
 
 Did then adhere, and yet you would make both : 
 They have made themselves, and that their fitness now 
 Does unmake you. 
 See also Thucyd. book i. 140 ; ii. 6. Demosthenes frequently 
 employs this topic, as in Olynth. iii. Tit/a yfiovov^ h t'lvo. Kaipov^ 
 0} &vSp£^ Adnvaloi, Tov irdpouTo's piXroi ^^tbIts. The force of 
 the appeal thus made cannot be better illustrated than by the 
 frequency of its employment. 
 
182 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 onyoiir ill the Teucer ; one too it is of which Iphicrates 
 adver- availed himself against Aristophon, when he put the 
 ^^'^'' question home to him, whether he would betray the 
 fleet for a bribe ; and on his denying that he would, 
 then said he, " Would you, who are Aristophon, not 
 betray them, and shall I, who am Iphicrates ?" You 
 ought, however, to be dealing with an opposite party, 
 who appears in a greater degree to have been guilty 
 of injustice; otherwise it would appear ridiculous, 
 were any one laying an accusation against an Aris- 
 tides, to allege this ; but it ought always to tend di- 
 rectly to the discredit of him who lays the impeach- 
 ment ; for, generally speaking, the plaintiff presumes 
 himself better than the defendant ; this notion, then, 
 it behoves us to refute. And generally it is absurd 
 when one chides in another what he does himself, or 
 would feel inclined to do ; or exhorts him to do what 
 he does not himself, neither would be induced to do. 
 8. Another place is from definitions^; as, " that the 
 ™. From genius is nothing else than either the deity, or his 
 tion. production. And yet whoever conceives the exist- 
 
 ence of the production of a deity, must necessarily 
 think at the same time that gods are in existence'"." 
 And, as Iphicrates said, "that that man was most 
 noble who was the best ; for that there did not at- 
 tach any nobility to Harmodius and Aristogiton be- 
 fore they had achieved some noble exploit." And 
 his proof that himself was more nearly akin to them, 
 by saying, " At any rate my deeds are more akin to 
 those of Harmodius and Aristogiton, than yours 
 are"." And, as was said in that speech about Paris, 
 
 * In addition to the instances of recourse to this topic quoted 
 in the text, we may mention that of expediency in the speech 
 of the Plataeans (Thucydides, iii. 56) ; and one used by Alci- 
 biades in his speech at Sparta, vi. 89, irav to IvavTioiiitvov tuj 
 SvvaaTtvovTL, Stj/jlos ovofiatTTaly k. t. \. 
 
 '" One of the arguments used by Socrates to prove his be- 
 lief in the existence of gods ; for if, as was granted, he held 
 the existence of his attending spirit (to SaifjiovLov), then neces- 
 sarily must it either be itself a god, or at least a divine pro- 
 duction. See Plato, Apolg. Socr. 
 
 " See the concluding chapter of Tacitus's Life of Agiicola. 
 
CHAP, xxin.] RHETORIC. 183 
 
 " All will be free to acknowledge that the intemperate 
 do not acquiesce in the enjoyment of a single person." 
 And the reason on account of which Socrates refused 
 to go to Archelaus, " because," said he, " it is a dis- 
 grace for one who has been treated well to be unable 
 to make a retort on terms of equality, just as it would 
 be for one who has been treated ill." For all these 
 deduce their inferences about the points respecting 
 which they speak, after having defined and ascer- 
 tained the question. 
 
 Another element is deducible from the number of 9. 
 senses in which a word may be taken, as in the Topics ^"'^J^"^ 
 respecting the acceptations of the word rightly. An- ber of 
 other from taking Hb&.different hearings of the case ; meanings 
 as, " If all act unjustly for three objects, for the sake \^.^^ 
 either of this, or this, or this, and from two of these 10. 
 motives it is impossible that he should have acted ; j^- Fro™ 
 but that he acted on the third, not even the accusers vision, 
 themselves allege." 
 
 Another from induction, as may be illustrated from u. 
 the oration respecting Peparethus, to establish that ?. From 
 women every where discern truly respecting their tJ(,^_ 
 children ; because first at Athens the mother made 
 the matter clear to Mautias, the orator, when under- 
 taking a suit against his son ; and again at Thebes, 
 when Ismenias and Stilbon were at issue on the point, 
 the Dodonian woman proved the child to be the son 
 of Ismenias ; and on this account they considered 
 Thessaliscus to be the son of Ismenias. And again, 
 from the law of Theodectes, " If people do not give 
 their own horses in charge to those who manage those 
 of others amiss, nor [their ships] to those who over- 
 turn the ships of others; neither ought we, if in 
 every case it happens in the same way, to employ 
 those who but ill protect the safety of others, for our 
 own protection." And, as Alcidamas asserted, that 
 " all pay honour to the wise, at least the Parians 
 honoured Archilochus, what though he was a calum- 
 niator of them ; and the Chians, Homer, who was 
 not their citizen ; the Mitylenseans, Sappho, though 
 she was a woman ; and the LacedaBmonians, who of 
 
184 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 all people are tlie least attached to learning, made 
 Chilon one of their senators ; the Greeks of Italy 
 also honoured Pythagoras, and the people of Lam- 
 psacus buried Anaxagoras, though a foreigner, and 
 honour him even to this day ; the Athenians again 
 were prosperous while they abode by the laws of 
 Solon, and the Lacedsemonians, while by those of 
 Lycurgus ; also at Thebes, at the time that the 
 magistrates were men of learning, the state enjoyed 
 prosperity." 
 12. Another element of enthymems is derivable from a 
 xi. From former decision of the same, a similar, or opposite 
 decSious. question ; more especially indeed if all men so decide, 
 and that uniformly ; and otherwise, [if not all,] but 
 the majority ; or the wise, either all, or most of them ; 
 or the good; or if the very judges themselves, or 
 those whom they approve, or those in opposition to 
 whom they cannot decide (as for instance those on 
 whom they depend) ; or those contrary to whom it is 
 not becoming to decide ; for instance, a god, or a fa- 
 ther, or teacher, [happen so to have decided]. Just 
 on the principle of the appeal of Autocles to Mixide- 
 mides, " whether it beseemed the awful goddesses to 
 render an account to the Areopagus, and not Mixi- 
 demides ?" Or, as Sappho insisted, "that to die was 
 an evil, the gods having so decided; since [had it 
 not been so] they would themselves have died ;" or 
 as Aristippus told Plato when he asserted something, 
 as he thought, rather dogmatically, " Yet," said he, 
 " our companion at least held no such thing," mean- 
 ing Socrates. And Hegesippus, having first con- 
 sulted the oracle at Olympia, put the question second- 
 ly at Delphi, — whether he [Apollo] was of the same 
 opinion as his father ; as though it were disgraceful 
 to contradict a father. And of Helen, as Isocrates 
 wrote '^, that "she was worthy, since indeed Theseus 
 judged her so." And of Paris, " whom the goddesses 
 
 '2 "Eypai/f£j/, because demonstrative orations were seldom 
 composed for delivery, but rather, as we should say, for the 
 closet, book iii. c. 12, § 6, 17 fiiv kiri^tiKTiKii Xt^ts 'Ypa<ptKw- 
 TUTti, Td yap Epyop out^s dv^yvajtris. See note chap. xi. § 7. 
 
CHAP, xxiii.] RHETORIC. 185 
 
 preferred'';" and of Evagoras^ as Isocrates says, that 
 must needs be virtuous, " since Conon, when un- 
 fortunately passing by every one else, came to 
 Evagoras." 
 
 Another element arises from an enumeration of 13. 
 parts; as in the Topica, "what kind- of motion the ^gg^°™ 
 soul is ; it is either of this, or that description." And mcration 
 an instance occurs in the Socrates of Theodectes : of parts. 
 " Toward what temple hath he been guilty of im- 
 piety ? whom of the gods which the ritual of our 
 state acknowledges, hath he not honoured ? " 
 
 Another consists in, Since, in the generahty of in- In- 
 stances, it happens that on the same circumstances ^'^o^"™ 
 somewhat is consequent whether good or evil, the quents. 
 exhortation or dissuasion by means of these conse- 
 quences, the accusation or defence, the praising or 
 blaming; for instance, on education is consequent 
 envy, which is an evil ; and the being wise, which is a 
 good: [on the one hand then you may assert that] men 
 should not seek to be educated, because it is not good 
 to be envied ; [on the other that] it is fitting to be 
 educated, for it is good to be wise. In this topic '"*, 
 with the addition of that on possibility, and the other 
 [universal means of proof], as they have been stated, 
 consists the system of Calippus. 
 
 Another occurs, when we want to exhort or dis- 15. 
 suade respecting two propositions, and those opposed ^g'ljj™"' 
 to each other ; and to avail ourselves of the foremen- lemma. 
 tioned argument in the case of both. The diiference 
 [between this and the element last mentioned] is, that 
 in it the opposition is merely between any proposi- 
 tions which may happen, it here holds between con- 
 traries : for instance, a priestess was endeavouring to 
 prevent her son from becoming a public speaker ; 
 
 '^ See book i. chap. vi. § 26 ; -where, in stating that to be 
 good -which is an object of preference, he cites these t-wo in- 
 stances. 
 
 " It is, however, a mode of argument sometimes so falla- 
 cious, that -we may say -with Ovid, 
 
 careat successibus opto 
 
 Quisquis db eventu facta notiinda putat. 
 
 Phyllis Demoph. 
 
186 . ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 because, said she, " If on the one hand you , speak 
 what is just, men will hate you ; if what is unjust, 
 the gods." [Here then it might he retorted], there- 
 fore you ought to become a public speaker ; for, " if 
 you speak what is just, the gods will love you ; if 
 what is unjust, men '*." And this is equivalent to 
 the proverb "of buying dirt as'well as salt." And 
 the retortion is this, when on each of two contraries 
 good and evil is consequent, they being respectively 
 opposed. 
 
 16. Another arises from the circumstance, that men do 
 '"■■ ?.'iS°^ not approve the same things privately as before the 
 ent mo- world ; but when in public, they praise beyond all 
 tives of things what is just and honourable ; but within 
 mankind, themselves they prefer what is expedient: the orator 
 
 should endeavour to infer whichever suits his pur- 
 pose, for this element is of sovereign use in exposing 
 anomalies of opinion. 
 
 17. Another element is deducible from the analogy of 
 xvi. From j-gsults ; as Iphicrates urged when they compelled 
 
 his son to serve who was under the standard age, be- 
 cause he was tall, that " if they esteem great children 
 as men, they assuredly will vote small men to be 
 children." And Theodectes, in the oration respect- 
 ing the law, asked, "Do ye make the mercenaries, 
 such as Strabax and Charidemus, citizens on account 
 of their virtue, and will ye not make exiles of those 
 among the mercenaries who have committed these 
 intolerable acts ? " 
 
 18. Another arises out of the argument, that if the re- 
 xYu.Fiom guit ijg the same, the principle from which it arises 
 larity of '^H be the same ;. just as Xenophanes used to argue, 
 conse- that " they are equally guilty of impiety who assert 
 quents. f^^iaX the gods were produced, as those who assert that 
 
 they die ; for in both cases it happens that in some 
 period or other the gods do not exist." And generally 
 
 '^ See an instance of this mode of arguing used by Tiresias, 
 Euripides, PhoenissEe, 968. Of this kind is also the argument 
 of Gamaliel : " If tliis counsel or this work be of men, it will 
 come to nought ; but, if it be of God, ye cannot overthi-ow it." 
 Acts V. 38, 39. 
 
CHAP, xxiu.] RHETORIC. 187 
 
 assuming that the result of each act is in every case 
 identified with it. [Take this argument as an illus- 
 tration] : " Ye are about to pronounce, not respect- 
 ing Socrates, but respecting the pursuit in general, 
 whether it be right to addict one's self to philosophy." 
 And this, "that the giving earth and water is the 
 being slaves." And "that the participating in the 
 common peace is the performing of what is enjoined." 
 isow we are to take whichever side may suit our pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Another may be deduced from the circumstance, 19. 
 that the same persons do not choose the same things p™' , 
 subsequently as before, but contrariwise ; as, for in- mconsist- 
 stance, this appeal: — "If, when in banishment, we encyof 
 fought that we might return ; shall we, now that we ™'^°" 
 have returned, take to flight, in order that we may 
 not fight '^?" For one while they chose abiding in 
 their country at the expense of fighting ; at another, 
 the possibility of avoiding fighting at the expense of 
 non-continuance in their native land. 
 
 Another element which may be resorted to is, the 20. 
 assertion that a thing either exists or was produced, ag^^Jn? 
 for the sake of that for which it might have existed or a possible 
 been produced ; as if some one were to give a person ^""1 ^ *^ 
 any thing, in order that by taking it from him he 
 may annoy him. "Whence also it has been said, " To 
 many, fortune, not bearing them good will, gives 
 great good luck ; but it is in order that they may re- 
 ceive the more conspicuous calamities "." And this 
 from the Meleager of Antiphon : " Not in order that 
 they might slay the beast, but that they may become 
 witnesses, before Greece, of Meleager's valour." And 
 that insinuation in the Ajax of Theodectes, "that 
 Diomede chose Ulysses, not as any compliment, but 
 in order that his attendant might at the same time be 
 his inferior." For it is very possible that he did so 
 on this account. 
 
 Another, common both to the judicial and de- 21. 
 liberative orators, is the consideration of the motives ^^^™ 
 
 " From an Oration by Lysias. 
 
 " Evertere domes tolas optantibus ipsis Dii faciles. 
 
188 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii 
 
 ing the which stimulate or retard men, and the objects with 
 motives. ^ ^jg^ ^^ which they both act and avoid ; for these 
 are such as, if they be actu&,lly in existence, we needs 
 must proceed to action ; for instance, if the under- 
 taking be possible, and easy, and beneficial, either to 
 the person in question himself, or to his friends, or 
 pernicious to his enemies, and entailing loss on them ; 
 or if the loss be less than the object proposed'*. 
 And it is upon these considerations that orators ex- 
 hort, and on their opposites that they dissuade ; more- 
 over they both defend and accuse upon the ground of 
 these considerations ; they rest their defences on those 
 which are used to dissuade, and their accusations on 
 those used to exhort ^^. The whole system of Calippus, 
 as well as that of Pamphilus, is nothing more than 
 this element. 
 22. Another is deducible from circumstances which 
 XXI. From ^ppgj^,- ^o have taken place, but which are improba- 
 ■which is ble, on the ground that they would not seem to be 
 incredible facts, had they not well nigh occurred or actually 
 yet true. ^^^^ g^ . ^^^ ^.j^^^. ^j^g^ have a yet stronger claim to 
 
 belief ; for men apprehend as truths either facts or 
 probabilities ; if then it be passing belief, and not 
 probable, it will be true^"; for at all events, it is not 
 on account of its likelihood and plausibility that it 
 has this appearance of being the case. Just as An- 
 drocles of the burgh Pithos, said in his impeachment 
 
 " Xipay/ia : by this word he designates the object of desire 
 and pursuit. Victor. 
 
 •' That is to say, those veiy same faculties which the deli- 
 berative orator would employ in exhorting a person to act, 
 would, if existing in reference to one under accusation, be 
 turned against him by the judicial speaker as circumstances 
 confirmative of suspicion. And, vice versd, the circumstances 
 of difficulty attending the undertaking, which would be em- 
 ployed to dissuade from its attempt, might be alleged in de- 
 fence of an individual under suspicion, as points of the case 
 which render his guilt improbable. 
 
 ^ The argument may he formally stated thus : Men believe 
 either what is actual fact, or probable ; this is believed ; this 
 therefore is either fact, or probable ; it is not probable, there- 
 fore it is fact. It is needless to observe that the slight possi- 
 bility, that it may be neither one nor the other, is completely 
 slurred over. 
 
CHAP, xxm.] RHETORIC. • 189 
 
 of the law, when the multitude were tumultuous as 
 he spoke, " The laws require some law to set them 
 right, for the very fishes require salt ; " and yet it is 
 neither likely nor plausible that creatures bred in the 
 brine of the sea should require salt. " Nay, the olive 
 lees require oil," and yet it is a fact not to be credited, 
 that the very things from which oil is produced should 
 require oil." 
 
 Another element, Refutative, is the consideration 23. Refu- 
 of contradictions ; if there occur any contradiction *^*"^ ^^^' 
 under alV the circumstances of time, conduct^', say- i. From 
 ings, and the like. And this independently, respect- consider- 
 ing your adversary, as " He tells you that he loves eonSadic- 
 you, yet did he conspire with the thirty [tyrants] ; " tions. 
 or independently respecting yourself, " He tells you 
 that I am litigious, but is not able to prove that I 
 have brought any action into court;" or respecting 
 both yourself and the adversary distinctly, " This 
 man never lent any thing, but I have ransomed 
 many of you." 
 
 AJnother, applicable to those who have been calum- 24. 
 niated, or who appear so, whether men or actions, is ^' i^"""™ 
 the explaining the cause of the mistaken notion ; for tion. 
 there is some circumstance, on account of which it 
 appears to be the case ; for example, when a certain 
 woman had come in contact with her son, she seemed 
 from her embracing him to have had connexion with 
 the youth; when, however, the circumstance which 
 caused it had been stated, the charge was quashed. 
 And as in the Ajax of Theodectes, Ulysses tells 
 Ajax why, though he is braver than Ajax, he does 
 not seem so. 
 
 Another is derived from the cause, if that be in 25. 
 existence, arguing that the effect is also ; and should "^- ^^ 
 it not exist, that neither does the effect. For cause, frlm^ 
 
 " Thus M. Livius Salinator having at one period narrowly 
 escaped conviction for embezzlement, aftenvards, when he was 
 made Censor, disfranchised all the tribes except that by whose 
 vote he had been acquitted, " quod aut prius se injuste con- 
 demnassent ; aut postea tantos honores non recte tribuissent." 
 Aur. Victor, de viris illiis . ' 
 
190 - ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 cause to and that of which it is the cause, exist conjointly, 
 ^l^'eM^ and nothing exists without a cause. Just as Leoda- 
 TiceTers . ^^^ .^ ^^.^ defence, when Thrasybulus accused him, 
 because he had been inscribed with infamy on a pil- 
 lar in the Acropolis, but erased it in the time of the 
 thirty tyrants, urged, " that it was not possible, be- 
 cause the thirty tyrants would put greater confidence 
 in him, while his hatred toward the democracy re- 
 mained inscribed in public." 
 
 26. Another is, the observing whether the thing re- 
 iT. From specting which the party is deliberating, or acting, 
 whether ^ ^as acted, did or does admit of being on another 
 the fact and better footing ; since it will become evident that, 
 ha e b ^^ ^^™ ^^ '^® case, he has not acted ; since no one vo- 
 douehet- luntarily, and of his own knowledge, deliberately 
 *er. chooses what is bad. This, however, involves a fal- 
 lacy ; for in many cases it becomes clear [only] when 
 too late, how it might have been managed better, 
 whereas it was before unknown. 
 
 27. Another, which occurs when any thing anomalous 
 V. From ^q former acts is about to be done, is the considering 
 maly of t^e both in connexion; just as Xenophanes advised 
 the pre- the people of Elea, when they asked him whether 
 the* '"'^t*" *^®y should sacrifice and sing a dirge to Leucothea ^^ 
 
 or not, " if they conceived her to be a deity, not to 
 sing a dirge ; but if a human being, not to sacrifice." 
 
 28. Another element is, the accusing or defending on 
 ■"• ■^'■™ the ground of errors committed ; for instance, in the 
 fore com- Medea of Carcinus, some persons accuse her because 
 mitted. she slew her children, [alleging] that at all events 
 
 they were not forthcoming ; for, respecting the send- 
 ing away her children, Medea was in fault : she, 
 however, defends herself [alleging that, if any one], 
 she would have murdered Jason, not her children ; 
 which in truth had she done, she would have erred 
 in not doing the other. And this element and spe- 
 cies of enthymeni constitutes the whole of that system 
 of Theodorus, which is first. 
 
 29. Another is deducible from the name ; as Sophocles 
 vu. From '^ 
 
 '' Ino, Cadmi filia, nonne Leucothea nominata a Gr^cis, 
 Matuta habetur a nostris ? Cicero, Tusc. i. 12. 
 
CHAr. xxm.] RHETORIC. 191 
 
 says, " Steel in truth you are, and bear the name." the 
 And as they are wont to say in their praises of the ^j*^™™/^" 
 gods'''; and as Conon used to call Thrasybulus, the term. 
 "rash in counsel," (QpaavfiovXae) ; and Herodicus 
 told Thrasymaehus, " You are always rash in fight, 
 (Gpatrii/ia^oc) ; and Polus, " You always are a colt," 
 (IlwXoe) ; and Draco the legislator, that " his laws 
 were not those of a man, but of a drag/on'^*; for they 
 were harsh." And as the Hecuba of Euripides says 
 of Venus, " The very name of the goddess rightly 
 begins with folly '^''." And as Charemon says, "Pen- 
 theus, rightly named from the calamities'^ awaiting 
 him." 
 
 Eefutative enthymems, however, are more in re- 30. Rea- 
 pute than the confirmative ; by reason of the refutative j-efutative 
 enthymem being a setting contraries briefly together ; enthy- 
 and because things when put in contrast are more mems are 
 palpable to the auditor. Of all forms of reasoning, repute 
 however, as wdll confirmative as refutative, those than con- 
 produce the greatest effect '', which are of such a de- fli™^tive. 
 scription that, on the commencement of their enun- 
 ciation, men_anticipate the conclusion, yet without 
 their being superficial ; for the hearers on their own 
 parts, feel a pleasure '^, in having of themselves anti- 
 
 ^^ Though he does not inform us what mode of praise this 
 is to which he alludes, we may infer that it consisted in pun- 
 ning on their respective appellations as often as the case ad- 
 mitted it. 
 
 2"* In this solitary instance of all the tissue does our language 
 admit of preserving the pun of the original ; and this, while it 
 will serve suificiently to illustrate our autlior's meaning, will 
 not leave him any great cause to regret that he has lost the 
 force of the others. 
 
 ^ Folly, in Greek d<j>po!Tvvri. The tragedian seems to have 
 strained the etymology of 'A^poSi-n^ to suit his purpose. 
 However, there are no liberties which punsters and theorists 
 -will not take. The words occur in the Troades, 990. Byron, 
 speaking of love, says, " Begun in Folly, closed in Tears." 
 Giaour. 
 
 26 Utvdea. 
 
 ^ Qopvfiovvrai ; respecting this word, see a note, hook i. 
 chap. 2. 
 
 2' For the principles on which this pleasure arises, see b. i. 
 ,1, § 21, on the ground that the apprehension of them is facUi- 
 
192 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 cipated it ; and [next to these may we class] all those, 
 hy which the hearers are left behind, just so much as 
 that they apprehend them simultaneously with their 
 having been enunciated. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 Elements of Apparent Enthymems. 
 
 1. Falla- JosT as it is possible that [one form of reasoning] 
 
 cious en- ,^^„ ^g ^ syllogism, and that another, without really 
 
 thymems. , .■' j o ' J 
 
 bemg such, may appear to be so ; even so it must 
 
 needs be with respect to the enthymem also, that one 
 description should really be enthymems, and another 
 not, however they may appear to be ; for the enthy- 
 mem is a species of syllogism. 
 2. But the elements of these apparent enthymems are, 
 l^t- From one derivable from the diction : and of this, the first 
 tion of' kind is, as in logic, the asserting your last proposition 
 twokiads. with all the air of a conclusion, although you have 
 1. Assert- ^gd^ggij jjq flegitimatel inference at all : thus, " So 
 mg a con- ,.'-'?, i -t t c 
 
 elusion and SO IS assuredly not the case, necessarily, tnereiore, 
 
 not in- so and so is." And the expressing yourself in the 
 ferred. ggurse of your reasonings concisely and pointedly ; 
 for this kind of style is the very province of the en- 
 thymem, and this kind of fallacy is, it is probable, 
 that which is [demonstrated] " the result of the style 
 of the diction ;" but the stringing together the heads 
 of many syllogisms, is a good expedient with a view 
 to expressing yourself with all the air of syllogism in 
 your style ; thus, " that he preserved some, avenged 
 others, emancipated the Greek people." For each of 
 these propositions has been demonstrated from others ; 
 and when they are put in conjunction, it appears that 
 ii. Am- something results ever from them. Another kind 
 
 biguous arises from similarity of names, as the assertion, that 
 terms, etc. ■' 
 
 tated, and our admiration excited ; and § 27 on the principle 
 that TO trocjiiv 6oK£Lv vS{i. For our self-admiration is gratified 
 by so easily perceiving the drift of the speaker. 
 
CHAP, xxiv.j RHETORIC. 193 
 
 " the mouse is an excellent animal, being that from 
 which the most esteemed of all rites have derived 
 their name ;" for of all rites, the mysteries are held in 
 most esteem. Or, if any one in praising a dog, w^ere 
 to embrace in his panegyric the dog in the heavens, 
 or Pan ; because Pindar thus addresses him, " O 
 blessed being, whom the inhabitants of Olympus call 
 the all-various dog of the mighty goddess." Or the 
 arguing, that "it is a most disgraceful thing, that 
 there should be not even a dog in the house ; and 
 therefore it is evident that a dog is honourable." 
 And the assertion, that Mercury is "communicative" 
 above all the gods, because Mercury alone is called 
 " common." And the stating that \6yoQ, speech, is 
 most excellent ; because the good are worthy of Xoyoe, 
 esteem, not of wealth : for the words (Xoyou aiiov) 
 are not used in a single sense. 
 
 Another [element of fallacy] is the asserting con- 3. 
 jointly what is true separately ; or separately, what ^y^^"™ 
 is true conjointly ; for as it appears to be the same and corn- 
 thing, what though in many instances it be not the position. 
 same, the orator should practise whatever method is 
 more available to his purpose. The saying of Eu- 
 thydemus is neither more nor less than an instance 
 of this; the declaration, for instance, that "he knew 
 there was a galley in the Pirteus'," for he knew each 
 [separate fact of his assertion]. And to declare of 
 one who knows the constituent letters, " that he knows 
 the verse ^;" for the verse is the same thing. Again, 
 the saying that " as twice so much is prejudicial, he 
 denied that the one was wholesome ; for it is absurd 
 that two good things should constitute one that is 
 noxious." Thus enunciated, it is adapted to refuta- 
 tion ; but thus it is confirmative ; " for two evils do 
 not constitute one good," etc. But the whole topic 
 
 ' An instance of the flagrant absurdity which may arise 
 from taking conjointly what is true only separately : Euthyde- 
 mus knew there were galleys in existence, and he was in the 
 Pirseus when he had this knowledge ; he knew therefore that 
 there were galleys in the Piraeus, i. e. he being in the Piraeus. 
 
 2 Of tliis nature was the sneering recommendation of a 
 Dictionary as a book of general information. 
 O 
 
194 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 is replete wih fallacy. Such again is the saying of 
 Polycrates respecting Thrasybulus, that he had de- 
 posed thirty tyrants';" for he takes them conjointly. 
 Or, as in the Orestes of Theodectes, from distinct 
 cases, "It is just that she who has slain her husband 
 should die ; as also that a son at least should avenge 
 his father. Now, are not these the very things that 
 have been done?" for, taking the cases conjointly, 
 perhaps it is no longer just. This may also come 
 under the fallacy of omission, for it is not explained 
 "by whom [she should be put to death]." 
 
 4. Another element is the doing away or establishing 
 exaeeer^ ^ point by exaggeration'': and this occurs when, 
 tion. without having shown that [the prisoner] has really 
 
 committed the crime, [the accuser] proceeds to ex- 
 aggerate it ; for this fallacy causes it to appear (when 
 the accused employs the exaggeration) that he has 
 not done the deed ; or, (supposing it be the accuser 
 who gets into a passion,) that he has done it. Thus - 
 then there is no enthymem ; for the hearer is sopHs- 
 tically brought over to a belief either that [the ac- 
 cused] has or has not done it, without any proof 
 having been adduced. 
 
 5. Another is the argument drawn from a sign*, for 
 4th. From this also is illogical; as if one were to say, "Lovers 
 
 are an advantage to states ; for the love of Har- 
 modius and Aristogiton deposed the tyrant Hip- 
 parchus." And if one were to say, "Dionysius is 
 a robber, for he is a wicked man ; " for this also is 
 illogical, because not every wicked man is a thief, 
 although every thief is a wicked man. 
 
 ^ The fallacy consists in this, that it leads you to suppose 
 thai Thrasybulus had destroyed thirty distinct tyrannies, where- 
 as he had in fact only suppressed one, the power of which hap- 
 pened to be shared between thirty different individuals. 
 
 ■* This is the first of the fallacies which are independent of 
 the diction, and may be termed, for the sake of distinction, 
 real or material fallacies. 
 
 ^ Meaning of course the specific trnnEiov, for no fallacy can 
 result from the tek/jlvp^ou, vid. book i. chap. ii. J 16. This 
 fallacy he has elsewhere denominated to wapa t)iii dyvoiau 
 Tov eXe'yj^ou. 
 
CHAP. XXIV.] RHETORIC. 195 
 
 Another is the arguing from an accidental cir- 6. 
 cumstance; exemplified in that which Polycrates^ the Mci "" 
 said about mice, that " they lent their aid by gnaw- dents of a 
 ing through the [enemy's] bowstrings." Or sup- thing, 
 posing one to declare, "that the being bidden to 
 supper is the most honourable; for Achilles was 
 wroth, on account of his not being invited by the 
 Greeks at Tenedos : " he however was enraged, as 
 though he was treated with disrespect, and this 
 occurred upon his not being invited. 
 
 Another arises from establishing the consequent ; 7. 
 as in the oration respecting Paris, [it is contended] ^eVtin-^ 
 that " he is of a noble spirit ; because, despising that as a 
 the society of many, he abode on Ida by himself;" logical 
 for, because the noble-spirited are thus disposed, ^^^^^ 
 he, too, it should seem, is noble-spirited. Again, not. 
 " Since he is both foppish in his dress, and strolls 
 about by night, he is an adulterer ; " because adul- 
 terers are persons of such habits'. Similar to 
 this is also the argument, that "the poor, because 
 they dance and sing in the temples ; and that 
 exiles, because it is permitted them to dwell where 
 they list, [are happy.]" For as these advantages 
 belong to those who appear to be happy ; they too 
 would appear to be happy, to whom they belong. 
 Moreover, the case varies with the circumstances of 
 the transaction ; on which account, the argument 
 falls under the charge of omission. 
 
 Another arises from stating as a cause that which 8. 
 in fact is not ; [arguing], for instance, on its having ^^ertk!™^ 
 happened " simultaneously," or " after ;" for men do that as a 
 assume that what occurs " subsequently" [occurs] ''^?-f\ . 
 "by means of" [that which preceded], and more ^ota 
 especially those engaged in 'state affairs ; just as cause. 
 Demades [insinuated] " that the administration of 
 
 ° This Polycrates was one of the Sophists ; he ^Yas men- 
 tioned above (§ 3). The circumstance respecting the mice is 
 recorded by Herodotus, ii. 141. 
 
 ' The fallacy in this instance arises from taking the simple 
 converse of a universal affirmative proposition ; as also in the 
 instance cited § 5. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 Demosthenes was the cause of all their misfortunes ; 
 
 because a war happened after it." 
 
 9- Another, from the omission of the "when" and 
 
 the'cmi"™ " manner how ;" for instance, the argument " that 
 
 sioii of Paris carried off Helen justly ; because free choice 
 
 jiarticu- had been given her bj her father 8;" for very pos- 
 
 '''^' sibly it was not [granted] for a continuance, but 
 
 at first merely ; because so far only was she at her 
 
 father's disposal. Or if any one, were to say, "that 
 
 the striking free men was an insult :" because under 
 
 all circumstances this is not the case, but when one 
 
 begins the violence. 
 
 10. Again, as in the disputations of the Sophists, there 
 9th. From arises an apparent syllogism from stating things ab- 
 
 °' solutely or not absolutely, but conditionally ; as [it is 
 contended] in logic, that " what is a nonentity, does 
 exist; because a nonentity exists as a nonentity;" 
 and that " what is unknown is known, for it is known 
 to be unknown^;" just so in rhetoric also, we have 
 an apparent enthymem from what is not absolutely 
 probable, but conditionally probable. This, however, 
 is not universally the case ; as in truth Agatho re- 
 marks, " Perhaps some one will be inclined to assert 
 this to be probable, that many improbabilities will 
 befall men :" for that which is contrary to probability 
 does occur ; so that even what is contrary to proba- 
 bility is probable'"; this, however, is not the case 
 ab^lutely ; but just as in sophistical disputations, it 
 is the omission of the circumstances of extent, rela- 
 tion, and place, which produces the imposition ; so 
 also here [in rhetoric], it results from the things 
 being probable not absolutely, but conditionally pro- 
 
 11. bable. The system of Corax is constructed upon 
 this topic : for supposing your client, without being 
 open to the charge, as for instance, being infirm, 
 
 ' See Euripides, Iphig. in Aul. 66. 
 
 ^ See the epigram, which, alluding to Socrates's declara- 
 tion, " that he knew nothing," concludes thus. 
 
 Hoc aliquid nihil est, hoc nihil est aliqtdd. 
 
 '" Compare the words of Sir Philip Sidney, tliat " a wonder 
 is no wonder in a wonderful subject,^' 
 
CHAP. XXIV.] RHETORIC. 197 
 
 should be under a charge for an assault, [you have 
 grounds for your defence,] because the case is not 
 probable : and if he be open to the charge, from his 
 being, for example, a powerful man, [still you may 
 defend him] on the ground that it is not likely, be- 
 cause it was sure to seem to be likely". And so also 
 respecting all other cases, for he needs must be either 
 open to the imputation or not. Both cases then ap- 
 pear to be likely ; but the one is likely [absolutely], 
 the other not absolutely, but so as has been explained. 
 And this is [the secret] "of making the worse, €he 
 better side'^." And hence mankind were justly in- Sophistry 
 dignant at the annunciation of Protagoras "; for it is 
 an imposition, and not the real, but an apparent pro- 
 bability, and has a place in no art except rhetoric, 
 and the art of disputation. And now the subject of 
 enthymems, as well real as apparent, has been dis- 
 cussed. 
 
 of Prota- 
 goras. 
 
 dictorv. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 The Solution of Arguments. 
 
 It follows that I speak of the modes of disengaging 1. Solu- 
 one's self from arguments. They are either the meet- ^^"L^'" 
 ing them with contradictory arguments, or starting an two ways. 
 objection'. Now as to the meeting them with counter Contra 
 
 " Compare lib. i. cap. xii. § 5, tA \iau iv <j>avipm, k. t. \. 
 
 '2 There were some persons who charged Socrates with do- 
 ing this, and thence concladed that he was a person dangerous 
 to the state — to'Tt tis SiuicpaTijs, ivrjp <ro(f>6^, to. xe /xa-rioipa 
 tbaorrLHTti^, Kai tA inro ynv iruvTa auaJflTrlKuis, KA"I T'ON 
 '"HTTQ A'OrON KPE'ITTQ nO^IQN. Plato Apol. Seer. § 2. 
 Compare also the dialogue of the two Xo'yoi, in the Clouds of 
 Aristophanes. 
 
 " Protagoras Abderites, Prodicus Ceius, Hippias Eleus, 
 aliique multi docere se profitebantur aiTOgantibus sane verbis, 
 " quemadmodum causa inferior, ita enim loquebantur, dicendo 
 fieri superior posset." Cicero, Brut. c. viii. Taii/ ciXXaji/ tex- 
 vijiv ovdtfi-la TCLvavTia (TvWoyt^ETai, i. i. § 12. 
 
 ' ' AvTLauXXoyicr/xds is a syllogism, whose conclusion is con- 
 
198 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 argu- arguments, it is evident that we may do it on the 
 Ob^eo- ground of the same topics [as were given for refuta- 
 tions? tion]: for the arguments arise out of probabilities, 
 2. and many things which appear likely are opposed to 
 each other. 
 3. Objec- Objections, however, (as was stated in the Topics,) 
 f "'^f M^ are started in four ways : 1. for either it may be from 
 ■ the same subject : 2. from a similar : 3. or an op- 
 posite [to that from which the adversary argues] : 4. 
 
 4. or from points already decided. By deriving your 
 1st. From objection from the same source, I mean that, sup- 
 source'"'' posing the enthymem were respecting love, " that it 
 
 was a good feeling ;" there would be a twofold ob- 
 i. Gener- jectioii ; for it [might be started] asserting generally 
 ^h- . that " every want is bad :" or particularly, that " the 
 ciilariv'' proverbial expression Caunian loves^, would not have 
 
 5. arisen had there not been some wicked loves." Again, 
 2ncLFrom ^u objection is alleged on the ground of a contrary 
 j.y fact ; as, if the enthymem was this, " The good man 
 
 benefits all his friends;" [and the objection,] "But 
 
 6. the bad man does not hurt all his."> And on the 
 3rd. From ground o? similar cases 5; if the argument be, " Those 
 
 a, siniilar . . 
 
 case. '^1^0 have been treated ill always hate ;" [the objec- 
 
 tion,] that " those who have been treated well do not 
 
 7. always love^." And again, the decisions of men of 
 4th. From celebrity : thus, suppose one brought forward the ar- 
 cSmI. ' "' gument, that " we ought to have some feeling for 
 
 those who are intoxicated, because they err ignorant- 
 ly^:" this objection [may be started], that "Pittacus 
 
 tradietory of that adduced by your opponent : iva-raai^ is the 
 showing that his reasonings are fallacious either in matter or 
 form. 
 
 ^ Alluding to the loves of Byblis and her brother Caunus. 
 See Ovid. Metaph. ix. 453. 
 
 ^ Or to use the English phrase, " by parity of reasoning." 
 
 ■* Victorius remarks, that " however at first sight this in- 
 stance would seem to be one of iVo-Tao-is ii diro tov tvavriov, 
 it is not inapplicable to the present case, inasmuch as the in- 
 jured stand to the injurers in a relation similar to that in which 
 the benefited stand to their benefactors. 
 
 ' The question how far aymaiv may be considered u free 
 agent, is discussed in the Nicomachaean Ethics, lib. iii. cap. i. 
 5 ; and Hooker, book i. 
 
CHAP. XXV.] RHETORIC. 199 
 
 is not therefore entitled to praise, otherwise he would 
 not in his enactments have imposed higher fines, in 
 case the party committed the error while intoxicated." 
 
 But as all reasonings [of the orator] are derived 8- Kea- 
 from four sources, and these four are probability, ex- ^"^f^ 
 ample, proof positive {rzKfirtpiov), and signs ; and as from four 
 the reasonings drawn from what is usual, or appears ?o™'oes : 
 to be so, are drawn from probabilities, while those tiijty. 
 drawn by inference from similarity of circumstances, ii. Exam- 
 whether in one or more instances, (when the speaker P.^- 
 embracing what is general, then infers particulars,) fi,^p,ou. 
 exist by virtue of example ; while those again which iv._ (tti- 
 are inferred from what is necessary and fact, are 'i''""- 
 founded on proof positive ; and lastly, as those drawn 
 from what does or does not hold good, whether uni- 
 versally or particularly, result from signs, [it being 
 remembered] that probability is not what always, 
 but what usxially occurs ; it is plain that it is, in 
 every case, possible to get rid of reasonings such as 
 these by starting an objection. The solution is, how- 9. Solu- 
 ever, [sometimes] apparent, and not always real ; *'™ °^ 
 for the objector does not do it away on the ground gonie- 
 of its not being probable, but on that of its not being times fal- 
 necessary^. Wherefore it always happens, that the l''™"^- 
 
 defendant has the advantage of the accuser, by means 1?' ™ „ '^ 
 " ' -J 01 more 
 
 of this piece of sophistry. 1 or as the accuser con- service to 
 structs his proof by means of probabilities (the task defendant 
 of getting rid of the positive certainty being by no pi^tiff. 
 means the same [in point of difficulty], as that of 
 getting rid of the probability of the charge) ; and as 
 that which is merely probable, is invariably open to 
 an objection ; (for it otherwise would not be a pro- 
 bability, but invariable and necessary ;) and if this 
 method of solution have been adopted, the judge 
 supposes either that it does not amount to a proba- 
 bility, or at least that he ought not to decide, having 
 been imposed upon in the way mentioned above ; 
 
 » The orator must therefore show on which side the greater 
 probability lies. " There are objections," said Dr. Johnson, 
 " against a plenum, and objections against a vacuum ; yet one 
 of them must be right." Whately. 
 
200 ARISTOTLE'S [book ii. 
 
 because [in fact] he i? not bound to pronounce on 
 positive proofs alone, but also on probabilities, which 
 is the spirit of the oath, "that he *ill decide to the 
 best of his judgment ;" wherefore that will not be a 
 satisfactory objection which rests merely on the ab- 
 sence oi proof positive, but it is further incumbent 
 on the objector to get rid of the probability ; this, 
 however, will be the case, if the objection be proba- 
 U. ble in a higher degree ; (and it may be so in two 
 ways, either on the score of time, or of the nature of 
 the case ; and pre-erninently so, if in both these 
 particulars ;) for if in the majority of instances it be 
 as you state, then it is a greater probability. 
 
 12. Speci- Signs also, and the reasonings deduced from them, 
 fie signs jjjj^y ^g gQ(. j.j(j gf^ gygjj jf ^jjgy. {jg fj^cts, as was stated 
 
 able. in the first Book ; for it is clear to us from the Ana- 
 
 lytics that every sign is illogical. 
 
 13. Solu- The same method of solution applies to reasonings 
 tioiiof ex- grounded on example as to those on probabilities ; for 
 
 if we have a single instance in contravention, it has 
 been answered^, [sufficiently to show] that it is not 
 necessary ; or that in the majority of instances, and 
 those of more frequent occurrence, the case is other- 
 wise. If, however, it be the case more frequently, 
 and in the majority of instances, we must contend 
 that the present is not the case in point, or that its 
 application is not in point, or that it has some differ- 
 ence at all events. 
 
 14. TEK- But proofs positive (rtKju^pia), and the reasonings 
 refut'bl' grounded on them, we shall not be able to get rid of, 
 e.xcept by at least not on the plea of inconclusiveness ; this is 
 assailing clear to US from the Analytics : it remains for us to 
 mise^'°" show that what is asserted is not the case^; if, how- 
 ever, it be clear both that it is true as a matter of 
 fact, and that it is a proof positive of the point, from 
 that moment it becomes irrefragable ; for thenceforth 
 it is plain from demonstration. 
 
 ' Tliat is to say, by a Xu<ris ^aivofxiv^. 
 " As we cannot object to the /orm of the reasoning, our only 
 resource is to attack the matter : to deny the premises. 
 
CHAP, xxvi.l RHETORIC. 201 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 Of Amplification and Extenuation. 
 
 Amplification and extenuation are not elements of 1- Ampli- 
 enthymems, (by topic and element I mean the same anditsop- 
 thing,) since the element and the topic is that under posite not 
 which many enthymems fall ; whereas amplification -roVoi.ljut 
 and extenuation are [themselves] enthymems for mem^. 
 showing that a thing is great or little, like those for 
 showing that it is good or bad, just or unjust, or 
 falls under either of the other denominations. And 2. 
 these are all the questions about which syllogisms and 
 enthymems are conversant ; so that unless each of 
 these be a topic of an enthymem, amplification and 
 extenuation are not. 
 
 Neither, again, are the topics which are available 3. Enthy- 
 to solution of enthymems, at all different in species refotadon 
 from those employed in their construction : for it is and con- 
 evident that he eflfects solution who either proves firmation 
 r 1 . -I ... T T are the 
 
 [something contrary J, or states an objection, and they same in 
 
 establish a counter proof of the contrary ; thus, " If kind, 
 one has argued that a fact has taken place, the other 
 argues that it has not ;" or " if one argues that it has 
 not, the other insists that it has." So that this will 
 not amount to a difference ; for both employ the same 
 vehicles of proof, inasmuch as they each allege en- 
 thymems to show that it is, or is not the case. 
 
 But the objection is not an enthymem, but is, as 4. Objec- 
 was stated in the Topics, the stating some opinion tio^isnot 
 from which it will appear that no legitimate inference mem. De- 
 has been arrived at, or that [the opponent] has as- finition of 
 sumed some false proposition. 
 
 Thus much, then, on the subject of examples, and 5. 
 maxims, and enthymems', and, in a word, all the 
 
 ' In taking leave of a series of terms which have occurred 
 hitherto so frequently, we may as well remark that examples, 
 maxims, enthymems, etc. denote the particular modification of 
 the proof, or the shape in which it is served up, without refer- 
 
 Ei/tTTatrts. 
 
202 ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. [book ii. 
 
 means of persuasion which address themselves to tlie 
 understanding, both the sources whence we may- 
 furnish ourselves plentifully with them, and the 
 means by which we may effect their solution 2. It 
 remains for us to go over the subject of style and ar- 
 rangement^. 
 
 ence to its degree of validity : while probability, signs, TSK/iiipw, 
 etc. refer to its degree of validity, mthout regard to the shape 
 or manner in -which the proof is conveyed. 
 
 ' Having now despatched the first and most important of 
 the three grand divisions of his work, viz. the snbject of tticttis, 
 it only remains to discuss the remaining two, Xe^is and Tti^ts. 
 In fact, having told the speaker what he is to say, he has now 
 only to tell how he is to say it. 
 
 ' The subjects of 'ttio-tis, XeJis, and Ta£is, it will be recol- 
 lected, constitute the widest and most general arrangement of 
 his work. See book iii. chap. i. ^ 1. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the Parts of Rhetoric. 
 
 As there are three points which ought to be handled 1. Three 
 respecting a speech ; one, as to the sources out of ^°™'^^™ 
 which will arise means of persuasion ; a second, re- ■jri'<rTis. 
 specting the style; a third, how we ought to arrange ^',£"- 
 the parte of a speech. On the subject of the means xhe'two 
 of persuasion much has been said, as well as to how last to be 
 many the sources are out of which [they arise], name- treated, 
 ly, that they are three ; also, what is the nature of 
 these sources, and why they are no more : for all 
 those who decide, are persuaded either by being them- 
 selves impressed in a certain way, or from conceiving 
 the speakers to be men of a certain character, or from 
 the matter of fact having been proved'. 
 
 It has been stated also with respect to enthymems, 
 whence we are to furnish ourselves with them ; for 
 [of those sources], some are elementary propositions, 
 peculiar [to the several branches of rhetoric] ; others 
 are places [of universal applicability]. It follows that 2. 
 we treat of the subject of style ; for the mere being 
 in possession of what one ought to say is not enough ; 
 but it is moreover necessary that we deliver it as we 
 ought ; [and the doing this] contributes much to 
 your speech's appearing to be of a certain character. 
 
 Now that by which its nature is first, was, con- 3. uiroVpi- 
 formably to nature, investigated the first ; viz. whence "■" ^"^ 
 these things derive their persuasive efficacy : next to ^^.^i '"^' 
 this, was the disposition of them in the speaking : 
 and thirdly, [arose an inquiry] of the greatest con- 
 
 ' See took i. chap. ii. § 3. 
 
204 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book III. 
 
 i. It con- 
 sists in 
 three 
 things. 
 jUfc'yE0os. 
 
 pvdfios, ' 
 
 sequence, but which never yet has been handled, on 
 the subject of delivery; for it was introduced into 
 tragedy and the public recitations at a late period, 
 since at first^ the poets used themselves to sustain 
 the dialogue* in their tragedies. It is therefore plain 
 that some such power exists in relation to rhetoric, 
 as well as to poetry ; which [as connected with the 
 latter art] Glauco tlie Teian, and some others, have 
 treated of. And it depends on the voice, as to how 
 we ought to manage it in reference to each several 
 passion ; when, for instance, we should employ a loud, 
 when a low, and when a moderate pitch of voice; 
 and on the manner in which we should employ its 
 tones, viz. the acute, the grave, and the intermediate ; 
 and on certain rhythms in reference to each ; for the 
 points, in reference to which they conduct their in- 
 quiries, are three, viz. the loudness of the voice, the 
 fitness of its tones, and its rhythm. Now the^e pro- 
 ficients bear away nearly all the prizes in the disput- 
 ations ; and as in the other contests* the actors now 
 produce a greater effect than the poets, so likewise 
 do they in civil causes, owing to the depravity of 
 5. No art States. There is not yet however any system com- 
 yet com- pjigd respecting these points, (since even the subject 
 of style was brought forward at a late period,) and, if 
 rightly conceived of, it appears an ornament adapted 
 to vulgar tastes^; but as the whole subject of rhetoric 
 
 ^ That the two departments of author and actor were united 
 in the same person, is asserted also by Horace, Art. Poet. 277, , 
 and by Plutarch, EdEdaavTo t6v Qktnriv aiiTov viroKpLvofiEvoVf 
 
 StaTTEp E0OS T]U ToTs TTaXuLOls. 
 
 ^ That uTroK()iTj)s came to designate an actor from the cu'- 
 cumstance of his sustaining the dialogue with the chorus, may 
 be evinced by reference to the etymology of the word. Its 
 successive meanings have been clearly traced in tlie Quarterly 
 Review : " 'T-n-oKptrij^, Qui respondet, ab viroKpivEaQaLf re- 
 spondere, Homer, Herodot. Histrio, quia primo tragoedise statu 
 liistrio Choro respondebat. Suidas, 6 VTroKpivofxevos tm x°P^' 
 Simulator, quia histriones fictas partes tuebantur." No xliv. 
 Art 2, p. 326. 
 
 * Those for the prize in the tragic games. 
 
 5 <S>opTiK6v. It appears from Twining's excellent illustra- 
 tions of the meaning of this word, that it is used to imply any 
 tiling extravagant, violent, overcharged, outr^ : — as applied to 
 
 piled on 
 it. 
 
CHAP. I.] RHETORIC. 205 
 
 has reference to opinion, we should pay attention to 
 it, not as to a subject of absolute propriety, but as 
 one of necessity; for as to mere matter of justice, 
 we ought not to inquire further on the subject of 
 speeches than so as to avoid giving pain, at the same 
 time that we do not delight ; for the rule of right is, 
 that the contest be carried on by means of the facts 
 themselves ; so that, except the proof, all the rest is 
 superfluous^; but it is notwithstanding, as has been Its influ- 
 stated, a point of great moment, in consequence of ^'^'^^ '^ 
 the weak judgment of the auditor. The subject of |^^ 
 style, however, has some necessary though trifling 
 claim on our attention in every system ; for the ex- 
 pressing one's self in this or that way makes some dif- 
 ference with a view to exhibiting the subject clearly, 
 not however to so great a degree [as is generally sup- 
 posed] : all these points are however mere idea, and 
 have a reference to the auditor ; wherefore it is that 
 no one teaches geometry in such a style. 
 
 This art then, be it introduced when it may^, will 
 produce the same effect as that of acting. And some 7. 
 to a small extent have already made an effort to treat 
 of it ; Thrasymachus, for instance, on the excitement 
 of compassion. Again, the being qualified for de- Delivery 
 livery is a gift of nature, and rather without the ^^t^fg " 
 province of art ; the subject of style, however, is 
 clearly reducible to an art. Wherefore rewards are 
 bestowed in turn on those who are proficients in this, 
 just as there are on those rhetoricians [who claim] 
 
 persons, it means troublesome^ tiresome, etc., or insolent, over- 
 bearing, etc., synonymously with avcXiuSifio^, /Sai/uuo-os, popu- 
 lar, low, vulgar, illiberal, etc. AttensEus, in speaking of the 
 rejection of Hippoclides, one of the suitors of Agarista, daugh- 
 ter of Clisthenes, king of Sicyon, attributes it to the disgust 
 conceived by her father at him, *0PTIKQ2 opxv^afisvov (see 
 Herodot. vi. 129). Aristotle himself classes the cjtopTiKol with 
 the PafioXoxoi, (Eth. Nich. iv. 8,) and with the oi woXkoi 
 (ibid. i. 5). It is in fact, (to adopt an expression of Pope's,) 
 any thing levelled to please the populace. 
 
 ^ B. i. C. 1. § 10. oijSiv dWo Stl, TrXijy 6.Tro^ti^ai '6ti oii-ro)? 
 
 t-X^i" 
 '. 'TTToVpiffis : for he clearly foresees that from its obvious 
 
 importance it must eventually become an adjunct of rhetoric, 
 
 as it has already become of dramatic exhibitions. 
 
206 ARISTOTLE'S [book iil 
 
 on the ground of delivery ; for wi-itten orations in- 
 fluence more by means of their style than through 
 the sentiment. 
 
 8. Poets Now the poets, as was natural, began to make a 
 first used gjj ^.j^g subject at first ; for words are imita- 
 recitation . ^ , , •' . i. n i ■ j.i. 
 
 and deli- tions, and the voice, ot all our parts, is the most 
 
 verywith imitative^; on which account also these arts were 
 
 success, constructed, both that of recitation, and of acting, 
 
 9. Hence and of others too. But as the poets, though what 
 early rhe- ^jjey Said was very frivolous, appeared to acquire 
 adopted their reputation by means of their style ; on this 
 the florid account the first style [of rhetoric] was formed on 
 stTk"^ that of poetry, witness the style of Gorgias ; and 
 
 even at the present time the majority of ignorant 
 people fancy that such orators speak most delight- 
 fully : this however is not the case, but the style of 
 poetry and that of prose is distinct, and the result 
 shows it ; for not even the writers of tragedy them- 
 selves any longer employ the same turn of diction, 
 ButhaTe but just as they have passed from trochaic to iambic 
 feUn"^^^ metre", because the latter is most like prose of all 
 quished the Other metres ; so have they also relinquished all 
 it, as the those terms which are foreign to the style of convers- 
 arTs^have ^-tion, with which however the early writers used to 
 also done, embellish [their works], and which even at the pre- 
 sent day are employed by those who write In heroic 
 metre ; wherefore it is ridiculous to imitate the 
 tragedians, who in their own case no longer employ 
 that turn of diction. 
 10. So that it is evident that we need not discuss with 
 minuteness all points soever which it is possible to 
 treat of under the head of style, but so many only as 
 belong to such an art as we are speaking of: the 
 other part of the subject has been spoken of in my 
 treatise on Poetry. 
 
 ° So that of course the poet, whose business was imitation, 
 would immediately put in requisition these two most obvious 
 sources of it. 
 
 ' The trochaic metre occurs frequently in the plays of .^s- 
 chylus, the m.ost ancient of the tragedians extant, particularly 
 in the Persaj ; as also in those of Euripides, especially in the 
 Phoenissse and Orestes ; but in those of Sophocles, rarely, if 
 
CHAP. H.] RHETORIC. 207 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 On Excellence of Style as made up of single Words. 
 
 Let this then have been discussed: and let excel- 1. Excel- 
 lence of style be defined to consist in its being clear ; ^^^f^i"^ 
 (a sign of this is this, that the diction, unless it make fined to be 
 the sentiment clear, will not effect its purpose ' ;) and the xo 
 neither low, nor above the dignity of the subject, but "'^'i'"- 
 in good taste ; for the style of poetry indeed is not 
 low, yet it is not becoming in prose. 
 
 Of nouns and verbs ^ those which are in general use 2. Words 
 produce the effect of clearness : to prevent its being *hat are 
 low, and to give it ornament, there are other nouns duce per- 
 which have been mentioned in the Poetics, for a de- spicuity. 
 parture [from ordinary acceptations] causes it to ap- 
 pear more dignified ; for men are affected in respect 
 of style in the very same way as they are towards 
 foreigners and citizens. On which account you 3. To ele- 
 should give your phrase a foreign^ air ; for men are ™te style 
 T.ni- PI IT • 1 '^6 must 
 
 admirers oi things out oi the way, and what is an ob- use fsW, 
 
 ' " Perspicuity consists in the using of proper terms for the 
 ideas or thoughts -which he would have pass from his own 
 mind into that of another man. It is this that gives them an 
 easy entrance ; and it is with delight that men hearken to 
 those whom they easily understand ; whereas what is obscurely 
 said, dying as it is spoken, is usually not only lost, but creates 
 a prejudice in the hearer, as if he that spoke knew not what 
 he said, or was afraid to have it understood." Locke, Some 
 Thoughts concerning Reading and Study, vol. iv. p. 601. 
 
 ^ As Aristotle proceeds henceforth to a complete analysis of 
 the. subject of style, he first considers it in reference to the 
 single words of which it is made up («£ &v avviiTTrjK^, § 5), 
 which occupies him to the end of the fourth chapter. He then 
 considers it as made up of whole senteiices ; the means of in- 
 vesting these with dignity, of adapting them to the subject, of 
 constructing them to please the ear, and as addressed to the 
 intellect; and concludes with enumerating their several ele- 
 gancies. First, then, he considers the beauties of style as de- 
 pending on single words. 
 
 ' Should the eyiitLei foreign, as applied to a quality of style, 
 not be immediately apprehended, it may be well to recollect . 
 that it means the excellence opposed to the fault which we 
 designate homeliness. 
 
208 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 ject of admiration is pleasant^. Now in the case of 
 metrical compositions, there are many things which 
 produce this effect, and there are very becoming, be- 
 cause both the subject and the person, stand more 
 apart [from ordinary life] ; in prose, however, these 
 helps are much fewer, for the subject is less exalted : 
 since even in that art were a slave, or a mere youth, 
 or [any one, in fact, in speaking] of mere trifles to 
 express himself in terms of studied ornament, it 
 would be rather unbecoming ; but here too [as in 
 poetry] the rule of good taste is, that your style be 
 4. "We lowered or raised according to the subject. On 
 must con- .;yiiic.h account we must escape observation in doing 
 art. this, and not appear to speak in a studied manner, 
 
 but naturally, for the one is of a tendency to persuade, 
 the other is the very reverse^; because people put 
 themselves on their guard, as though against one who 
 has a design upon them, just as they would against 
 adulterated wine. [Let your style then be such] as 
 was the case with the voice of Theodoras as com- 
 pared with that of the other actors'^; for it appeared 
 to be that of the character which was speaking, theirs 
 5. however were foreign from the character. And the 
 deceit iS' neatly passed off if one frame his nomen- 
 clature upon a selection from ordinary conversation ; 
 the thing which Euripides' does, and first gave the 
 hint of 
 "\Yords to As however nouns and verbs are [the materials] 
 be but Qf which the speech is made up, and as nouns admit 
 
 * This was asserted book i. chap. ) 1, § 23, 24. 
 
 ^ Ubicunqiui ars ostentatur, Veritas abesse videfur. Quintil. 
 Instit. X. 3. Artia est celare artem. 
 
 * HaiTis seems to have had this passage in view when he 
 wrote the following : " 'Tis in writing as in acting ; the best 
 writers are like our late admired Garrick. And how did that 
 able genius employ his art ? N ot by a vain ostentation of any 
 one of his powers, but by a latent use of them all in such an 
 exhibition of nature, that, while we were present in a theatre, 
 'and only beholding an actor, we could not help thinking our- 
 selves in Denmark with Hamlet, or in Bosworth Field with 
 Richard." Philolog. Inq. P. ii. o. 4. 
 
 ' In this practice, Euripides stands remarkably opposed to 
 his predecessor JSschylus. 
 
CHAP. II.] RHETORIC. 209 
 
 so many species as have been examined in the Poetics, sparingly 
 out of the number of these we must employ but spar- ^™P^°^' 
 ingly, and in very few places, exotic^ and compound 
 words, and those newly coined; where they may be 
 employed I will state hereafter^: the reason [of the 
 restriction] has been mentioned, viz. because they re- 
 move your style [from that of common life] more 
 than is consistent with good taste. Words however 6. WokU 
 of ordinary use, and in their original acceptations '", "m^i °'- 
 and metaphors, are alone available in the style of n-at^opai, 
 prose : a proof [that this is the fact, is] that these are proper for 
 the only words which all persons employ ; for every P^°*^- 
 body carries on conversation by means of metaphors, 
 and words in their primary sense, and those of ordi- 
 nary use. Thus it is plain that, if one should have 
 constructed his style well, it will be both of a foreign 
 character, and that [the art of the orator] may still 
 elude observation, and [the style itself] will have the 
 
 * rXSTTn : " any word that belongs either to another lan- 
 guage, or another dialect of the same language, and that is not 
 naturalized by eomTnon and popular use." T-^rining. 
 
 ' In the seventh chapter he says, that they may be used 
 ■with effect when you -would assume the language of high ex- 
 citement : see § 11. 
 
 '" 'KOpia are -words in general use, opposed to yXtoTxat, out- 
 landish expressions. OlKsta, -^N'ords in their primary and literal 
 acceptations, opposed to /liTaffyopal, -words transferred from 
 their primary meaning to sonre analogous meaning. Many 
 -words are Kvpia -which yet are not oWtia. In fact, of the three 
 divisions theoiicEia are necessarily the fewest ; since the proper 
 and original designations of individual objects cannot extend 
 to a number sufficiently great to ans-wer all the purposes of 
 language ; the resources of -which must therefore be augmented 
 by metaphorical transfer. Even these -words in time become 
 so naturalized by common use as no longer to have any thing 
 " of the effect of metaphor upon the hearer. On the contrary, 
 like proper terms" {o'nciia), "they suggest directly to his 
 mind, unthoztt the intervention of any image, the ideas which 
 the speaker proposed to convey by them." Philos. of Ehet. 
 vol. i. p. 185, 186. From those sounds -which we hear on 
 small or on coarse occasions, -we do not easily receive strong . 
 impressions, or delightful images ; and -words to -which we are 
 nearly strangers [terms of art, etc.], -whenever they occur," 
 draw that attention on themselves which they should transmit 
 to things. Johnson's Life of Dryden, vol. vi. p. 395, edit. 
 1 823. Vid. the whole passage. 
 P 
 
210 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 advantage of clearness ; this however was laid down 
 
 T.Equivo- to be the perfection of rhetorical language. But of 
 
 cal words ^U nouns, those which are equivocal suit the purposes 
 
 schist! of the sophist, for by their help he effects his falla- 
 
 synonyms cies, while synonyms are of use to the poet ; I mean 
 
 the ijoet. these which are both synonyms and of co mm on usage, 
 
 as iropevriadai and (iaW(tiv, for these two are both of 
 
 common usage and synonymous to each other. 
 
 fThe nature then of each of these varieties, and 
 
 how many species of metaphor there are, and also 
 
 that this ornament is of the greatest effect, as well in 
 
 poetry as prose, has been explained, (as I have oh- 
 
 8. Meta- served above,) in the Poetics. In prose"' however 
 phors. ^g should bestow the greater attention on them, in 
 
 proportion as an oration has to be made up of fewer 
 adjuments than a metrical composition. Moreover 
 the metaphor possesses in an especial manner [the 
 beauties of] clearness and sweetness, with an air of 
 being foreign '^5 and it is not possible to derive it 
 from any other person '^. 
 
 9. i. Must You must however apply, in the case both of 
 be K-ax epithets and metaphors, such as are appropriate ; and 
 yiav. this will depend on their being constructed on prin- 
 ciples of analogy, otherwise they will be sure to ap- 
 pear in bad taste ; because contraries show themselves 
 to be such, particularly when set by each other. But 
 you must consider, as a purple garment becomes a ' 
 
 ^^ rTpaJTa ^kv Oi>v fiETacpopaXi xpij<7Tioi/' a^Tai yap fiaXiiTTa 
 Kal TjSovijv (TUfxfidWovTat Tots Xoyois, Kal fiiyedo^, — fii) fltvToi 
 TTvKval^, Demetr. 
 
 "' " As to metaphorical expression, that is a great excellence 
 
 in style, "when it is used with propriety, for it gives you two 
 
 ideas for one ; — conveys the meaning more luminously, and 
 
 . generally with a perception of delight." Boswell's Johnson, 
 
 ^t. 68. 
 
 " Aristotle seems to subjoin this as the crowning praise ot 
 metaphor ; for he has already told us that, that is a good the 
 principle of which centres in ourselves ; so also, in the Topica, 
 he lays down that (i firi ktrTi irap' aWou 'n-opiaairQat -as a greater 
 good ^ o ia-TL irap" aXkov. In the third book of the Nicoma- 
 chaean Ethics he employs a similar topic of praise ; o Trap' i-ri- 
 pov fill oioii T-£ XafiiLu, fLiiSi liaiilu. See also book i. c. 7, § 33, 
 of the present treatise. 
 
CHAP. 11.] RHETORIC. 211 
 
 youth, what is equally so to an old man ; since the 
 same garment does not become [both]. 
 
 And if you wish to embellish your subject, see 10- 
 you deduce your metaphor from such things coming ^ ^.etter^ 
 under the same class as are better; and if to cry it class if to 
 down, from such as are worse : I mean, as the cases ^J'^^: 
 are opposed and come under the same genus, that the ^ lower if 
 saying, for example, of a beggar, that "he prays," to debase, 
 and of one who is praying, that " he begs," (both 
 being species of aslting,) is to do the thing which has 
 been mentioned ; just as Iphicrates called Callias " a 
 mere collector to the goddess, and not atbearer of the 
 torch." He however replied, "that he must needs 
 be uninitiated himself, or he would not call him a 
 collector, but a bearer of the torch." For these are 
 both services connected with the goddess ; the one 
 however is respectable, while the other is held in no 
 repute. And some one [speaks of the courtiers of 
 Dionysius as] Dwnysian parasites; they however 
 call themselves artificers'^. And these expressions 
 are both metaphors ; the one of persons who would 
 depreciate, the other the contrary. Even robbers, 
 now-a-day, call themselves purveyors'^. On which 
 principle we may say of a man who " has acted un- 
 justly," that he "is in error;" and of one who "is 
 in error," that he " has acted unjustly T Again, of 
 one who has stolen, both that has taken, [in way of 
 diminution,] and that has ravaged [in exaggera- 
 
 '< AtovvtroKoXaxas. This term, by -which the tribe of flat- 
 terers seem to have been exposed to ridicule on the stage 
 (Ko\aK£s Tov Aiovvatov), was ingeniously enough borrowed 
 from the name of the patron of the theatre, Aio'i/uo-os; they 
 however thought proper to exchange one theatrical appellation 
 for another more respectable, and dignified themselves by the 
 name Tsxi/i-rai. This, as well as the corresponding Latin term, 
 artifices, seems to have been more commonly applied to actors, 
 musicians, etc. See Keuchen, note on Com. Nep. vita Cha- 
 briae, c. i. By the way, this sort of metaphorical embellish- 
 ment appears not to be unusual in the present day, if it be true 
 (as we are told) that the important personage who directs the 
 culinary operations in great families be entitled the artist. 
 
 '^ Compare Thucyd. b. i. sub init. 
 p 2 
 
212 ARISTOTLE'S [book m. 
 
 tion""]. But the saying, as the Telephus of Euripides 
 does, " that he lords it o'er the oars, and landing in 
 Mysia," etc., is out of taste ; for the expression, 
 " lording it over," is above the dignity of the sub- 
 ject ; [the rhetorical artifice] then, is not palmed 
 H. off". There will also be a fault in the syllables, 
 ui. The unless they are significant of a grateful sound ; for 
 must'be' instance, Dionysius, surnamed Chalcous'*, in his 
 attended elegies, calls poetry, " the clangor of Calliope," be- 
 *"• cause both are vocal sounds ; the metaphor, however, 
 
 is a paltry one, and couched in uncouth expressions ''. 
 12. Again, our metaphors should not be far-fetched ; 
 
 '^Vu ^^* but we should make the transfer, on the principle of 
 not be far- . . „ , ', ^ , . i i , 
 
 fetched, assigning names out ot the number ot kindred ob- 
 jects, and such as are the same in species, to objects 
 which are unnamed, of which however it is clear, 
 simultaneously with their being uttered, that they 
 are akin, as in that approved enigma, 
 
 " A man I once beheld, [and wondering view'd,] 
 Who, on another, brass with fire had glued^:" 
 
 TWININO. 
 
 for the operation is undesignated by any name^', and 
 both are species of attaching ; wherefore the writer 
 called the application of the cupping instrument, a 
 gluing. And, generally speaking, it is possible out 
 of neatly constructed enigmas to extract excellent 
 metaphors : because it is on the principles of metaphor 
 
 '" See book i. chap. 13, § 9, 10. 
 
 *^ Is too glaring, is seen through. 
 
 " Were it not that Plutarch attributes this surname of Dio- 
 nysius (" the Brazen") to a suggestion of his for employing 
 brass currency at Athens, the specimen here quoted might lead 
 us to suppose that he derived the appellation from some cha- ■ 
 racteristic harshness of style. 
 
 '^ "AiTrifio9 <j>ioiiti, vox quEE vel formil vel significatione turpis 
 est. Ern. Lex. Tec. 
 
 ™ This enigma is ingenious, and means the operation of cup- 
 ping, performed in ancient days by a machine of brass. Phi- 
 lolog. Inq. P. ii. c. 10. 
 
 ^' Metaphor took its rise from the poverty of language. Men, 
 not finding upon every occasion words ready made for their 
 ideas, were compelled to have recourse to words analogous, 
 and transfer them from their original meaning, to the meaning 
 then required." Philolog. Inq. P. ii. c. 10. 
 
CHAP. 11.] RHETORIC. 213 
 
 that men construct enigmas ; so that it is evident, 
 that [if the enigma be a good one] the metaphor has 
 been properly borrowed. 
 
 The transfer also should be made from objects 13. 
 which are beautiful ; beauty however of words con- ^^J^^^ 
 sists, as Licymnius observes, in the sound or in the borrowed 
 idea conveyed ; as does also their inelegance. And ^™™ 
 there is moreover a third ^^, which does away the so- objects" 
 phistical doctrine ; since it is not the fact, as Bryso Beautj- of 
 argues, " that no one speaks inelegantly, if indeed ^ords 
 the using one expression instead of another, carries j^ the 
 with it the same meaning : " for this is a fallacy ; sound, 
 because some words are nearer in their ordinary i,}j^ "' 
 acceptations, more assimilated, and have more pecu- plication. 
 liar force of setting the object before the eyes than 
 others. And what is more, one word represents the 
 object under diiferent circumstances from another ; 
 so that we may even on this principle lay it down, 
 that one word has more or less of beauty and inele- 
 gance than another : for although both words, [at 
 the same time,] express [properties which are] beau- 
 tiful, as well as such as are inelegant ; yet they either 
 express them not qua they are beautiful, or not qita 
 they are inelegant; or granting they do, yet they 
 express them, the one in a greater, the other in a 
 less degree. But we are to deduce our metaphors 
 from these sources ; — from such as are beautiful either 
 in sound, in meaning, or [in the image they present] 
 to the sight, or any other sense. And there is a dif- 
 ference, in the saying, for instance, " the rosy -fingered 
 Aurora;" rather than "the purple-fingered;" or, 
 what is still worse, " the crimson-fingered." : 
 
 Also in the case of epithets, it is very possible to !*• Epi- 
 derive one's epithets from a degrading or disgraceful ^sglj ;" 
 view of the case ; for instance, " the murderer of his the same 
 mother^':" and we may derive them from a view on ^™y- 
 
 ^2 We may perhaps term this third beauty of words, delicacy 
 in their application. 
 
 23 Nominibus mollire licet mala ; fusca Tocetur 
 Nigrior lUyrica cui pice sanguis erit, etc. 
 
 Ovid. Ar. Am. 1. ii. 
 
214 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 the better side ; as, the avenger of his father." And 
 Simonides^*, when the victor in a race by mules 
 offered him a trifling present, was not disposed to 
 write, as though feeling hurt at writing on demi- 
 asses i when, however, he offered a sufficient present, 
 he composed the poem — 
 
 Hail ! Daughters of the generous Horse, 
 
 That skims, like wind, along the course, etc, Harris. 
 
 15. iiro- and yet they were daughters of asses as well. Again, 
 Kopi<7/x6^. it is possible to express the self-same thing diminu- 
 tively. And it is the employment of diminutives 
 which renders both good and evil less ; just as Aris- 
 tophanes jests in "The Babylonians;" using, instead 
 of gold, " a tiny piece of gold ;" instead of " a gar- 
 ment," " a little garment ;" instead of " reproach," 
 " puny reproach ;" and instead of " sickness," " slight 
 indisposition." "We ought, however, to be careful, 
 and always keep to the mean in both cases. 
 
 CHAP. HI. 
 
 Ore Frigidity of Style. 
 
 1. Four Frigidity ', as dependent on the style, consists in 
 
 causes of fgyj. points. In the use of compound words; like 
 
 style. Lycophron^, where he says, "the many-faced hea- 
 
 i. Com- ven," and " the mighty-topped earth," and " the nar- 
 
 wd^. row-pathed shore." And as Gorgias used the 
 
 expression, "a beggarly -mused flatterer," and "the 
 
 strictly-bound-by-oath and fully-sworn men." Or 
 
 like Aloidamas, [who talks of] " the soul replete with 
 
 anger, and the visage waxing fire-coloured." Again, 
 
 " See Bentley on Phalaris, p. 156. Zancteans and Messe- 
 nians. 
 
 ' Having in the last chapter discussed the beauties of style 
 as dependent on single words, he now proceeds to consider its 
 defects, as they arise from the single words employed : see note 
 on chap. ii. § 2. 
 
 ^ This Lycopliron was a sophist, and is not to be confounded 
 with the poet who flourished under Ptolemy Philadelphus. 
 
CHAP, m.] RHETORIC. 215 
 
 " he supposed their zeal would be completion-work- 
 ing ;" and "he settled a completion-working per- 
 suasiveness of speech ;" and " the azure-hued level of 
 the main." For all these expressions, by reason of 
 their being compounded, appear poetical'. 
 
 This, then, is one cause : also the employment of 2. ii. Use 
 foreign idioms is one ; as when Lycophron calls °4^°^'^ 
 Xerxes, " prodigious hero," and Sciron, " baneful 
 man^;" or Alcidamas, when he says, " gamboUings in 
 poetry," and " nature's improbity," and " whetted by 
 unrestrained rage of soul." 
 
 A third description of frigidity consists in the em- 3. iii. Epi- 
 plyment of epithets either too long, out of place, or ^^ ^°° 
 too frequent ; for in poetry, indeed, it is becoming frequent, 
 enough to say " white milk ;" in prose, however, it is °^ ™* °^ 
 rather bad taste. Some also, should there be a su- ^ ^'^' 
 perabundance of them, betray [the rhetorician's art], 
 and make it evident that the whole is a mere made-up 
 thing ; this, however, you may occasionally avail your- 
 self of, since it produces a departure from the ordinary 
 style, and renders the diction foreign. Yet ought we 
 to aim at the mean ; for [the too free indulgence in 
 the licence] does more harm than the speaking care- 
 lessly ; for the one has no beauty, the other has 
 [^positive] fault. Hence it is that the writings of Al- 
 cidamas appear frigid ; for he employs epithets not 
 as the seasoning, but as the food, with such profusion 
 does he scatter them, and those both too long, and 
 where the meaning is self-evident : thus, he does not 
 say the sweat, but "the moist sweat ^:" nor to the 
 
 ' Take the following specimen : " To so vast a height did 
 the never-too-Tnuch-to-be-extoUed reputation of this eximious 
 man," etc. Sir Thomas Urquhart's Jewel. See also " The 
 Rejected Addresses;" Art. "Address of the Editors of the 
 Morning Post." 
 
 * The expression in the original alludes to Sinnis, a famous 
 robber, whose peculiar method of torture it was to bind his 
 victims to the boughs of trees forcibly bent together, and sud- 
 denly loosened, so that the violence of their reflex tore the 
 limbs from their bodies. However a 2ii/i/is avS^p was probably 
 not more elegant in Greek, than the expression "a Turpin" 
 is considered in English. 
 
 * Victorius thinks that Boccaccio, in his Decameron, has 
 
216 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book III. 
 
 Com- 
 pound 
 words 
 suited to 
 Dithj;- 
 ramhic 
 poetry ; 
 exotic to 
 epic ; me- 
 taijhors to 
 the dra- 
 ma. 
 
 4. iv. Im- 
 proper 
 meta- 
 phors. 
 
 Isthmian games, but "to Isthmus' full assemblage:" 
 nor does he speak of laws; l?ut of "the laws, the 
 sovereigns of states :" nor, of the race ; but of " the 
 soul's rapid impulse:" nor of a museum; but of 
 " taking nature's museum with you :" and of " rueful 
 care of the soul." Nor does he speak of favour ; but 
 of " the fabricator of a ivhole people's favour :" and of 
 " a dispenser of the pleasure of his audience." [He 
 would not tell you] of branches; but "amid the 
 branches of the wood did he conceal it :" nor, that he 
 covered his person ; but " the nakedness of his per- 
 son :" and of " desire the counter-rival of the soul:" 
 (for this is at once a compound word and an epithet, 
 so that it becomes poetry :) and of " such an ill- 
 omen'd excess of improbity." Hence those who ex- 
 press themselves with this poetic air, produce by their 
 want of taste both the ridiculous and the frigid, and 
 from their loquacious prosing, become deficient in 
 clearness ; for whenever one unnecessarily obtrudes 
 any thing on an auditor who already apprehends him, 
 putting an end to all perspicuity, he produces ob- 
 scurity. 
 
 People, however, do employ compounds, when the 
 subject is without a proper appellative, and the com- 
 position is easily eifected: for instance "pastime;" 
 but if it occur frequently, it is decidedly poetical. 
 Wherefore a style characterized by compounds, is 
 most available to the Dithyrambic poets ; for such 
 words are sonorous : exotic words are most useful to 
 epic poets ^; for they have something dignified and 
 superb : metaphor however to iambic verse ; for [dra- 
 matists] now employ it, as has been already stated. 
 
 Moreover, fourthly, frigidity originates in metaphor ; 
 for there are even metaphors which are unbecoming : 
 some, from their being ridiculous^; for the writers of 
 
 employed too profusely this poetical ornament. Comment, in 
 Demet. Phal. 
 ^ May "\ve not instance Milton's Heiraisms ? 
 ' A striking instance of tliis occurs in two well-knomi lines, 
 in which "Winter is said, 
 
 " To fflaze the lakes, and bridle up the floods, 
 And perriwiii with wool tlie bald-pate woods." 
 
CHAP. lu.] RHETORIC. 217 
 
 comedy employ metaphor : others, from their being 
 too dignified, and having too great an air of tragedy*; 
 and should they be far-fetched, they become indistinct ; 
 like Gorgias, [when he talks of] things as wan, and 
 [again] as ruddy. " You have sown in shame, and 
 reaped in ruin ;" for this has too much the air of 
 poetry. And as Alcidamas, [who calls] " philosophy 
 the rampart of the laws ;" and " the Odyssey a beau- 
 tiful mirror of human life'." Again, "introducing 
 no such gambolling in poetry :" since all these ex- 
 pressions, for the reasons above-mentioned, are des- 
 titute of persuasive efficacy. But what Gorgias said 
 on a swallow, when in its flight it had muted on him, 
 was in the best style of tragedy ; for he exclaimed, 
 "Oh! fie Philomela" for to a bird, indeed, the act 
 was not unbecoming, to a young lady, however, it would 
 have been. So that he reproached her neatly enough, 
 speaking of her as what she had been, not as what 
 she then was. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 Of Simile,_ 
 
 The simile, too, is in fact metaphor; for the differ- 1- Simile; 
 ence is trifling : for when [the poet] says of Achilles, ^"7^™ 
 " Like a lion he leaped on them," it is a simile ; but a meta- 
 when he says, " A very lion he leaped on them," it is P'""'- 
 a metaphor : for since both are brave, [the poet,] 
 
 " Such, was the language of the poet who, describing the 
 footmen's flambeaux at the end of an opera, sung or said, 
 Now blazed a thousand flaming suns, and bade 
 
 Grim night retire. 
 
 Harris, Philolog. Inq. 
 " However correct Mr. Harris's taste may be in considering 
 this an elegant metaphor, it seems extraordinary that he should 
 quote the passage thus : " Aceording to Aristotle, the Odyssey 
 of Homer was elegantly called by Alcidamas, kclKov dudpunrLuou 
 piou KfLTOTTTpov, etc." Plulolog. luq. P. ii. c. 10. Surely 
 Aristotle does not consider this as an elegant metaphor. 
 
prose. 
 
 stances of 
 similes, 
 
 218 AKISTOTLE'S [book in. 
 
 making the transfer, has spoken of Achilles as a lion. 
 Is use- The simile is useful too in prose, though seldom, since 
 
 J,".)„'" it carries with it the air of poetry. And you must 
 introduce them just as you would metaphors ; for 
 they are metaphors differing in that particular which 
 has been stated '. 
 
 3. In- The following are similes ; viz. that which Andro- 
 
 tion employed against Idrieus,' that " he was like pup- 
 pies loosed from their chain ;" for they rushing at 
 people bite them, and Idrieus, too, now that he was 
 discharged, was a dangerous person. Again, as The- 
 odamus, in a simile, compared Archidamus to Eux- 
 enus, without his knowledge of geometry ; on the 
 principles of similar ratios : for [_converseli/'] Euxenus 
 would be Archidamus, had [the latter] a knowledge 
 of geometry. Also the instance which occurs in the 
 Politeia of Plato, that those who spoil the dead are 
 like young dogs, " which bite the stone, without 
 touching the person who throws it." Also the [si- 
 mile] which he employed against the populace, " that 
 it was like a pilot, strong indeed, but rather deaf.'' 
 And of the metres of poets, " they are like those in 
 the prime of youth who are without beauty ;" for the 
 latter having lost their freshness, and the former their 
 numerical arrangement, are no longer like the same 
 thing. Also the simile of Pericles against the Samians, 
 [who said] "they were like young children, who indeed 
 accept the sop, but still cry :" and against the Boeo- 
 tians, that " they were like holm-oaks ; for these 
 holm-oaks are cut down by their own means ^, as 
 were also the Boeotians, in their contests with each 
 
 ' Viz. tlie insertion of the particle denoting similitude, 'Q2 
 Xewi/, instead of Xiwv kiropova-sv. 
 
 ' Victorius's conjecture as to the means whereby these trees 
 destroy themselves appears rather forced. May there not be 
 some allusion to the anginal of the lately discovered fable of 
 PhKdnis ; in which the trees, having been made to dispute 
 about providing a handle for the woodman's axe, after seeing 
 the fatal use he makes of the present, acknowledge that they 
 deserve that destruction which they had provided for them- 
 selves ? The Latin fabulist himself seems to think that his 
 master, ^Esop, had carried matters too far in making trees 
 speak, since he deems it necessary to apologize : 
 
CHAP. IV.] RHETORIC. 219 
 
 other.'' And what Demosthenes used before the po- 
 pulace, that " it is like those who are sea-sick when 
 on board." So, too, Democritus likened the orators 
 to nurses, " who, swallowing the sop themselves, be- 
 smear the infants with spittle." And in the same way 
 Antisthenes likened Cephisidotus the slim to frank- 
 incense, for " in its consumption it spreads universal 
 delight." 
 
 [Thus the simile is metaphor], for it is free to you 
 to enunciate all these both as metaphors and as si- 
 miles. So that it is plain that as many as, when 
 enunciated as Tnetaphors, are approved, will also be- 
 come similes ; and \yice versa] the similes, when 
 without the note [of similitude], will become meta- 
 phors. But the metaphor, which is constructed on 4. Meta- 
 the principle of similar ratios, ought always to admit P"!™'^ 
 of paying back [the borrowed term*] ; as also in other mit of 
 cases, and in that of [metaphor], from species to spe- P*>™S 
 cies : for instance, if a cup be called " the shield of i,o^owcd 
 Bacchus," it is also proper to call a shield " the cup term. 
 of Mars." Of these materials, then, is a discourse 
 made up. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 On the Necessity of speaking the Language with Purity. 
 
 But purity in speaking your language ' is the found- 1. Purity 
 ation of all style ; and this depends on five particu- °^ ^'5'^^ 
 lars. First, on the connective particles^, whether on five 
 " Calumniari si quis autem voliierit, points. 
 
 Quod arbores loquantur" etc. PhEed. Prol. lib. i. 
 
 ^ A metaphor is said ivTairo^lhouBai, when it may be in- 
 verted: for instance, just as you would call a pilot, " the 
 ruler of his vessel ; " so may you call a ruler, " the pilot of the 
 state." Em. Lex. 
 
 ' Aristotle having in the last three chapters given us the 
 necessary information respecting the materials of style, its sin- 
 gle yvords, proceeds now to treat of the arrangement of those 
 materials in whole sentences. 
 
 ' One is surprised to find another great critic of antiquity 
 
220 ARISTOTLE'S [book in. 
 
 2. i. On one pay them' back or not, just as they are of a na- 
 nectiTe" *"""'' *" precede oi- follow, and as each requires ; thus, 
 particles, although and on my part, require yet and on his part 
 
 [to follow them]. And it is necessary to make a re- 
 turn of the one to the other while it is yet recollect- 
 ed, and not to suspend them at too great intervals : 
 neither should we [insert another] connective before 
 making a return to the connective which already has 
 a claim on us ; for in very few instances is this ap- 
 propriate. "But I, after he spoke to me, for Cleon 
 came up beseeching me and putting it to me, went, 
 taking them along with me :" for in these words 
 many connectives are thrown in before the first con- 
 nective has been paid back ; and if the interval be- 
 tween the words " /" and " went" be great, a want 
 of clearness takes place. One source then of correct- 
 
 3. ii. In ness originates in the connectives. And a second, in 
 using t]jg expressing yourself in the appropriate terms, and 
 tinct, and iiot in generals '. A third, in terms which are not 
 notyague. ambiguous : this, however, only when you do not de- 
 *; in- In liberately choose the opposite ; the very thing which 
 ambigu- they do, who, whilst they have nothing to say, yet 
 ous. affect to say something marvellous ; for such persons, 
 
 in their invention of somewhat to say, give vent to , 
 these terms, just as Empedocles did. For the cir- 
 cumlocution by its length imposes on people, and the 
 auditors are affected in the very self-same way as the 
 populace in transactions with soothsayers ; for when 
 they utter their ambiguities, they yield assent as 
 they go on ; [as in the famous oracle], " Croesus 
 having crossed the Halys will overthrow a mighty 
 empire." And it is because the chance of mistake is 
 less, that soothsayers express themselves in generals 
 on their subject: for in "even and odd^" he will 
 more frequently be right who cries [ovAj generally^ 
 
 declaring it unnecessary to be very particular in this respect : — 
 
 £ri dk Kal toiis (TVvSi(Tfiov9 /±ij fjLoka dvTairoSiSoadaL (i/cpi/3ws, 
 'V Tto fxkv, TO Si. Demet. Phal. Trepi ip^rji/Eia^, § 53. 
 3 By Tots TTzpiixovtriv is meant, not circumlocutions, but the 
 use of a general instead of a particular term, as kpvQpo^ in the 
 place of (poiui^, -which of course much weakens the idea. 
 * Ludere par impar. Hor. Sat. lib. ii. 3, 248. 
 
CHAP, v.] RHETORIC. 221 
 
 either " even^' or "odd," than one who would [specify] 
 the exact number ; and so one who predicts simply 
 that a thing will happen, than he who would subjoin 
 when^. On which account the soothsayers never add 
 the further distinction of " when." All these errors 
 then are similar ; so that, unless it be with a view to 
 some such end, they are to be avoided. 
 
 The fourth essential is the preserving the distinc- 5- i^- ^^ 
 tion which Protagoras marked out between the gen- g^ndSr' 
 ders of nouns, viz. masculine, feminine, and neuter ; 
 for it will be necessary to make these correspond 
 correctly. Thus, " She, having come and having 
 conversed, departed." 
 
 The fifth consists in correctly quoting the plural, 6. v. In 
 dual, and singular numbers. "They, coming up, numbers" 
 commenced beating me." 
 
 In a word, the written style ought to be easily ^o™ ge- 
 read and understood ; and in these requisites it is ^^^^ 
 the same [as that of recitation] ; the very qualities i. Style 
 however these which numerous connectives do not o"glit to 
 possess : neither the compositions which it is not read and 
 easy to point, as those of Heraclitus. For the point- to under- 
 ing of Heraclitus' works is quite a task, from its f.*^" 
 being far from clear whether words refer to those „ot |jg. 
 which precede or those which follow them^. For pend on 
 example, in the beginning of his work, " Of reason tjie pi™c- 
 existing always men are ignorant :" for it is not 
 clear to which branch of the sentence we should 
 point oflF the " always." 
 
 This moreover produces a solecism ; the failure "^- ^^ ^^ 
 in paying back the idea, if, [in the case of two gjon of 
 words,] you do not bring each under an expression more than 
 adapted to both': for example, to the words "colour °^^^°'^^ 
 
 ^ Hence the distinguishing superiority of the prophecies of 
 our Saviour's coming ; for in them not the simple fact alone, 
 hut the very period at which it should occur was specified. 
 
 ^ We can no where find a more striking instance of the want 
 of clearness to which a neglect of these cautions gives rise, 
 than in book ii. chap. 18, of the worthy Stagyrite's own work. 
 
 ' Or, to take his own illustration, in speaking of the objects 
 of different senses, be careful not, to annex a verb which de- 
 notes the operation of one sense alone. This is well exposed 
 
222 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book. III. 
 
 use a verb or sound," the expression "seeing" has not a com- 
 bie'to all ^^^ reference ; whereas the expression "perceiving" 
 iv. There has. Again, sentences become indistinct, if, delaj^- 
 must be jng to thrust in many intermediate remarks, you do 
 not put first and state [what naturally comes first]. 
 For example, " For I intended, after I had conversed 
 with him on this and that subject, and so on, to 
 depart:" not, [stating it naturally thus,] "For I 
 intended to depart ;" and afterwards introducing, 
 " after I had conversed on this and that, and so on,'' 
 
 no long 
 parenthe- 
 ses. 
 
 1. Eleva- 
 tion pro- 
 duced by- 
 seven ex- 
 pedients, 
 i. Using 
 the defi- 
 nition in 
 place of 
 tlie noun. 
 The re- 
 verse pro- 
 duces ab- 
 ruptness. 
 2. 
 ii. Avoid- 
 ing either, 
 if out of 
 taste. 
 
 3. iii. Il- 
 lustration 
 by meta- 
 phor and 
 epithets. 
 
 4. iv. By- 
 using the 
 plural for 
 the singu- 
 lar. 
 
 5. V. As- 
 
 CHAP, VI. 
 
 On Elevation of Style. 
 
 The following expedients contribute to elevation of 
 the style, viz. — the employing the definition instead 
 of the noun ; saying, for instance, not " a circle," 
 but " a plane superficies, whose circumference is at 
 all points equidistant from the centre." The reverse, 
 however, viz. the use of the noun instead of the de- 
 finition, contributes to abruptness. 
 
 Again, [the avoiding either,] if it be indelicate or 
 unbecoming ; i. e. using the noun, if the indelicacy 
 be in the definition ; or the definition, if it be in the 
 noun. 
 
 Also, the illustration of the subject by metaphor 
 and epithets, guarding, however, against what savours 
 of poetry. And the putting what is but single as 
 many, the thing which the poets do : though the 
 haven be but one, yet they tell you of " Grecian 
 havens ;" — and, " the letters' many-opening folds '." 
 
 Also, the not bringing all your words under a 
 
 in the Spectator : — " I have known a hero compared to a thun- 
 derbolt, a lion, and the sea ; all and each of them proper meta- 
 phors for impetuosity, courage, or force. But by bad manage- 
 ment it hath so happened, that the thunderbolt hath overflowed 
 its banks ; the lion hath been darted through the skies ; and 
 the billows have rolled out of the Libyan desert." No 595. 
 ' Eurip. Iph. in Taur. 727. 
 
CHAP. VI.] RHETORIC. 22.3 
 
 common particle, but assigniDg to each its own : signing 
 " This woman, this my wife." And the expressing *° ^^^ 
 yourself with a connective ; but if abruptly, without distinct 
 a connective indeed, though not unconnectedly ; for particle. 
 instance, " Having departed and having spoken to ^ tt,^ 
 him ;" or, " having departed, I spoke to him." counec- 
 
 The precept of Antimachus, too, is of service, viz. t"'cs, but 
 the drawing your expressions from absent qualities^, jy^^^^*' 
 which he does in celebrating the hill Teumessus, out them, 
 [commencing,] " There is a certain little hill visited 7- "^'i: ^J' 
 by the winds^;" for thus the subject is carried on to qufuties. 
 infinity. And this expedient holds good alike in the 
 case of qualities which are good, and such as are 
 bad*, just as the subject has them not, in whichever 
 way it may be of service. Hence the poets deduce 
 their expressions^, the "stringless" and the "lyre- 
 less melody ; " for they build their epithets on priva- 
 tives. And this expedient is also approved in ana- 
 logical metaphors ; for instance, the saying of " a 
 trumpet," that it is a " lyreless harmony." 
 
 ^ How much may be made of a mere summary' of negations, 
 ■will readily he acknowledged by those who have read Roches- 
 ter's poem on Nothing ; and another in Latin on the same 
 subject (if subject it may be called), by Passerat, a poet and 
 critic of the si:steenth century, in France. This last is usually 
 subjoined to Johnson's Life of Rochester. 
 
 ^ These words, it will be observed, do not in themselves 
 afford an instance of the precept here recommended ; but, as it 
 appears that the work of Antimachus was well known, they 
 were probably intended as a hint at a passage in which an 
 illustration was to be found. Of Aristotle's quotations in ge- 
 neral, it may be remarked that, however naturally we might 
 expect to meet with beautiful passages, in illustration of the 
 several beauties of style which he successively discusses, they 
 present but a series of allusions (now obscure and scarcely in- 
 telligible), to passages which were easily accessible to his au- 
 dience, but which have been lost to us amid the general wreck 
 of ancient literature. See Victorius's remark, cap. iii. § 3. 
 
 ♦ Whether ia praising or blaming. 
 
 ' It should be remembered that these negative epithets are 
 very common to the Greek poets. Victorius points out many 
 instances: as, kw/io:/ avauXoT-aToi/, Eurip. Phoen. 818; Qiaaov 
 dpaKX^v'ov, Orest. 319 ; finvvTrifio'! a<pityKTOv, jEsch". Eumen. 
 245 ; dTTTspoLs iruiT-nfjiatnv, ibid. 250, etc. There is a fine in- 
 stance of this negative mode of explaining a metaphor in Isaiah, 
 li. 21. — " Thou drunken, hut not with wine." Twining. 
 
224 ARISTOTLE'S [book m. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of the hecoming in Style. 
 
 1. What Style will possess the quality of being in good taste, 
 t°t^'^' d ^^ '* ^^ expressive at once of feeling and character, 
 taste m and in proportion to' the subject-matter. This pro- 
 style is, portion, however, is preserved, provided the style be 
 a6 TiK^ neither careless on questions of dignity, nor dignified 
 ^OiKii : ' on such as are mean : neither to a mean word let or- 
 ""."ij??"^ nament be superadded ; otherwise it appears mere 
 to \he ^ burlesque ; as Cleophon uses to do ; for he has ex- 
 subject- pressed some things equally ridiculously, as though 
 matter, j^g were to say, " August fig-tree." 
 3. ira^i]- But [the style] expressive of feeling, supposing 
 TiKri ren- the case be one of assault, is the style of a man in a 
 auSeiice P^'Ssion ; if, however, it be one of loathsomeness and 
 sympa- impiety, the expressing yourself with disgust and 
 tlietio. painful caution ; if, however, the case demand praise, 
 with exultation ; if pity, with submission ; and so on 
 
 4. in the other cases. And a style which is appropriate, 
 moreover, invests the subject with persuasive efficacy. 
 For the mind is cheated into a persuasion, that the 
 orator is speaking with sincerity, because, under such 
 circumstances, men stand affected in that manner. 
 So that people suppose things to be even as the 
 speaker states them, what though, in reality, they are 
 
 5. not : and the hearer has a kindred feeling with the 
 orator, who expresses himself feelingly, even should 
 he say nothing to the purpose ; availing themselves 
 of which, many bear down their hearers in the storm 
 of passion. 
 
 6. ifiiKi} But moreover, this mode of showing by means of 
 renders signs is expressive of character ; because, on every 
 appropri- condition and habit of life, is consequent a language 
 ate to the suited to it. I use the expression condition, in refer- 
 aiidience. gjj^g ^^ ^j^g gjjjgg of jjfg . ^s youth, manhood, or age ; 
 and [to the sex], as man, or woman ; and [to na- 
 
 ' Might we borrow an expression from tlie language cf the 
 painter, we should say, " in proper keeping with." 
 
CHAP. VII.] RHETORIC. 225 
 
 tion], as Lacedemonian, or Thessalian. [I mean] 7. 
 by habits, tliose conformably to which one is of a 
 certain character in life; for it is not according to 
 every habit that the life assumes a certain character : 
 if then one express himself in the language appro- 
 priate to the habit, he will produce the effect of being 
 characteristic ; for a rustic and a man of education, 
 will express themselves neither in the same words, 
 nor in the same manner. And the auditors are 
 affected, in some way, by that feeling of which the 
 declaimers avail themselves, till it nauseates ; [put- 
 ting it to their audience thus], "who knows not?" — 
 " all men know it." For the auditor acknowledges 
 with a kind of confusion, that he participates [in that 
 information] which all the rest of the world possess. 
 The employment of them opportunely, or inoppor- 8. Gene- 
 tunely, is, however, a consideration common to every "^^^ ^ralea. 
 species [of ornament] ; butforevery excess [in them], 9. We 
 there is that corrective which is in the mouth of every "lust cor- 
 body ; for, of yourself, you should append a reproof selTeTi" 
 on yourself ; for it appears in reality [an ornament], it ^Yere. 
 at least since the use of it does not escape the notice of 
 the speaker himself. Further, the speaker is not at 10. "We 
 once to employ every thing which is proportionate ; ™^.^* °^" 
 for thus the hearer has the deceit passed off on him. neglect 
 I mean that, if the terms be harsh, he is not to em- the rules 
 ploy a harsh tone and expression of countenance, and °' '^■ 
 the other peculiarities [of harshness] : if this caution 
 be not observed, [our artifices] severally appear what 
 they really are. But if he employ some and not 
 others, without observation he produces the same 
 effect. Still, if expressions of softness be uttered 
 harshly, and such as are harsh with softness, they 
 become divested of efficacy to persuade. But com- 11. We 
 pound words, and a plurality of epithets, and foreign °'^* '"''• 
 idioms, are appropriate chiefly to one who speaks pound 
 under the excitement of some passion ; — for with one, words ex- 
 [for instance,] who is affected by anger, we have a excitld ™ 
 fellow-feeling in his calling his wrongs "heaven- 
 measuring," or "prodigious :" they are so, too, when 
 one is already master of his audience, and has 
 Q 
 
226 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 wrought them up to enthusiasm, either by panegyric 
 or invective, by [the excitement] of anger or friendly 
 feeling ; the which Isocrates does in " The Panegy- 
 ric," near the conclusion ; " — the record and remem- 
 brance ;" and, " men who had the spirit—." For 
 the speaker, in a transport of enthusiasm, gives 
 utterance to expressions such as these ; so that the 
 audience also, being forsooth similarly affected them- 
 selves, readily welcome them. Wherefore they are 
 adapted to poetry; for poetry is the language of 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 It is, then, either in this way [that we are to em- 
 ploy poetical expressions], or in irony ; as Gorgias 
 was in the habit of doing ; and [as Socrates does] in 
 the Phsedrus [of Plato]. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Of Mhythm. 
 
 1. The The modelling of the diction should, however, be 
 style must neither metrical nor without rhythm': for the first 
 rhythm ^^^ ^° persuasive efficacy (since it appears to have 
 but not been got up), and at the same time it also draws off 
 metro. j-jjjg attention] ; for it causes one to fix his attention 
 on the similarities of cadence, when they will recur 
 again ; just in the way that little children anticipate 
 the crier ; (for when he demands, — " "Whom does 
 this freedman choose as his patron ? " — [they ex- 
 claim], " Cleon :") that, however, which is without 
 2. rhythm, has no measure. The diction ought, however, 
 to be measured, yet without metre ; for what is desti- 
 tute of measure is displeasing and indistinct. But 
 by number all things are measured ; and in model- 
 ling the diction, the number is rhythm', of which 
 
 ' In pursuance of that systematic plan which we have re- 
 marked that Aristotle has adopted in considering the subject 
 of style, he proceeds here to treat of it as addressed to the ear. 
 
 ' " Rhythm differs from metre, inasmuch as rhythm is pro- 
 
CHAP, vni.] RHETORIC. 227 
 
 the metres are certain divisions'. Hence the sentence 3. 
 should possess rhythm, though not metre; for then 
 it will become verse ; and its very rhythm should be 
 without preciseness. This, however, will be the case 
 if, up to a certain point, it be preserved. 
 
 But of the rhythms, the heroic is stately, and not 4. 
 adapted to conversation, and deficient in varied ca- R<iy"^ins 
 dence ; the iambic, however, is the very style of the kinds. 
 multitude ; whence it is that persons in conversation Heroic. 
 give utterance to iambic Knes, most of all metres. I^il""^- 
 But [in a speech] there should be a degree of stateli- 
 ness and departure from [the ordinary phrase]. Yet Trochaic, 
 the trochaic metre is too tripping^; and all tetrame- 
 ters show it ; for tetrameters are a kind of dancing 
 rhythm ^. But the pcean remains, which orators, com- Paan. 
 mencing with Thrasymachus, began to employ ; they 
 were not, however, able to explain what it was. Yet 
 the psean is the third, and comes next to those 
 [rhythms] which have been mentioned ; for it is as 
 three to two. But of the former [rhythms, the ratio Ratios of 
 is] of the one, [the heroic,] as one to one; of the j^Ljjj^j 
 others, [the iambic and trochaic,] as two to one^. But 
 
 portion applied to any motion -whatever ; metre is proportion, 
 applied to the motion of words spoken." Harris. " The 
 rhythm of a dactyl and anapsest is the same ; the metre is dif- 
 ferent. The distinction is similar to that of permutations and 
 comhinations in arithmetic." Scale, Analysis of Greek Me- 
 tres. Metre, in short, cannot exist independently of artwulate 
 sounds ; while rhythm may he heard in any proportionate suc- 
 cession of sounds ; as in the ringing of hammers on an anvil, 
 or the flapping of the -wings of a bird. 
 
 ^ Metre is distinctly stated, in the Poetic, to be a species of 
 rhythm. Harris also says, " All metre is rhythm, yet all 
 rhythm is not metre." Philolog. Inq. P. ii. c. 2. 
 
 -" T-wining illustrates it by the following line : — 
 
 " Jolly mortals, fill your glasses ; noble deeds are done 
 by -wine." 
 
 ' TLopoaKiKuTcpos — namby-pamby : ico'pJaJ was a species of 
 immodest, lascivious dance. 
 
 « As the Greeks considered a long syllable as equivalent to 
 ' two times, and a short only to one, two short syllables were of 
 course eqtiivalent to one long ; so that, in either of the feet of 
 -which heroic metre is composed, a ratio of equality exists ; 
 (for instance, in the dactyl, ■ i"":: 2 : 1 and 1 ; or, in the 
 spondee, " : ' : : 2 : 2.) The same observation will explain the 
 Q 2 
 
228 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book III. 
 
 5. The 
 pgeau is to 
 be retain- 
 ed. 
 
 6. Two 
 sorts of 
 prcan. 
 The first 
 suited to 
 the open- 
 ing. 
 The se- 
 cond to 
 the con- 
 clusion. 
 
 next to these ratios ranks that of whole and half';' 
 and this is the psean. The others then are to be 
 abandoned for the reasons stated, and because they 
 are resolvable into verse : the paean is, however, to 
 be retained ; since out of that only rhythm, of all 
 which have been mentioned, it is not possible to con- 
 struct any metre ; so that [in employing it] most of 
 aU rhythms, an orator will elude detection*. 
 
 At present, indeed, the orators employ one paean, 
 [as well in concluding] as on opening ; the conclu- 
 sion, however, ought to differ from the opening [of a 
 speech]. And there are twj) species of paeans, op- 
 posed to each other ; whereof the one is adapted to 
 the opening, (just, in fact, as they employ it;) this is 
 that one of which the long syllable is first, and the 
 three short ones at the end, [as in the word] AdXoyt vec, 
 and Xpi)(T&Ko/ia. The other, however, contrariwise, 
 is that whereof the three short syllables are first, and 
 the long at the end, [as in the conclusion of the line] — 
 
 ratio of the iambus, (":":: 1 : 2,) and the trochee (":':: 2 : 1) . 
 Now the psean C" : " : : 3 : 2) holds a mean ratio between 
 that of the heroic metre on the one hand, and that of the 
 iambic and trochaic respectively on the other ; the ratio of the 
 former being merely that of equality, while the ratio of the 
 latter was too much in excess. 
 
 ' 'H/nio'Xios — sesquiduplex — a whole and half besides;-^ 
 " Necesse — partem pedis aut sequalem esse alteri parti ; aut 
 altero tanto, aut sesqui esse majorem. Ita fit tEgualis, dacty- 
 lus ; duplex, iambus ; sesguiplex, pEeon." — Cicero, Orat. c. 56. 
 
 ' Though the illustrations already given have been perhaps 
 too prolix, I cannot forbear transcribing the following passage 
 from Harris, in illustration of the whole subject : — " The 
 rhythm of the heroic foot is one to one, which constitutes, in 
 music, what we call common time ; and in musical vibration, 
 what we call the unison. The rhythm of the iambic is one to 
 two, which constitutes, in music, what we call triple time ; 
 and in musical vibration, what we call the octave. The 
 rhythm next to these, is that of two to three, or else its equiva- 
 lent, three to two ; a rhythm compounded of the two former 
 times united ; and which constitutes, in musical vibration, 
 what we call the fifth. 'Twas here then they discovered the 
 foot they wanted ; that foot which, being neither the heroic 
 nor the iambic, was vet so far connected witli them, as to con- 
 tain virtually within itself the rhythms of them both." — Phi- 
 lolog. Inq. P. ii. c. 2. 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 229 
 
 Afterwards night obscured botli earth, and water, and ocean. 
 
 This [piean] makes a good conclusion ; whereas the 
 short syllable, owing to its being incomplete, renders 
 the sentence mutilated. But it is right to break off 
 with a long syllable, for your conclusion to be clearly 
 marked, not by means of the amanuensis, nor merely 
 by annotations on the margin, but by means of the 
 rhi/thm. 
 
 That, then, the diction should be conformable to 
 rhythm, and not deficient in it, the particular rhythms 
 too which will render ♦it so conformable, and these 
 under what arrangement, have been stated. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Of Style continuous and its opposite '- 
 
 The style must needs be either continuous, and united 1. Style 
 by means of connectives, just like the protracted odes '^ of two ■ 
 of the dithyrambic poets ^; or rejlex, and like the sipoulmi, 
 antistrophic odes of the old poets. kkte- 
 
 Now the continuous style is the old style, as, " This "'T''"^" 
 is the exposition of the historical research of Hero- 2. i. dpo- 
 
 dotus, of Thurium^" etc. For formerly indeed every f^^"v< or 
 
 uninter- 
 rupted. 
 
 ' Style is here considered as addressed to the intellect of the 
 auditor. 
 
 2 Ae'^is tlpofilvii, in which the sentence has no otlier unity 
 than that which copulatives give it, nor any other measure 
 than the completion of the sense, and the necessity of taking 
 breath ; or, as Cicero in few words so admirably describes it, 
 " ilia sine intervallis loquacitas perennis et profiuens." This 
 Aristotle compares to what he calls the dva^oXaX in dithyram- 
 bic poetry; meaning, I think, evidently the long, irregular, 
 protracted odes of (£e more modern dithyrambic poets : for 
 the word dvafiokri, here, does not, I believe, signify exordium, 
 proccmium, as usually understood, but was, probably, the name 
 by which lahaX /laKpai Kal TroXvEiSels were distinguished,* etc. 
 — Twining, note 17. 
 
 ^ Herodotus, though a native of Halicarnassus, went latterly 
 as a colonist to Thorium. 
 
230 ARISTOTLE'S [book iii. 
 
 Dcflni- one employed it, but now very few. I call that 
 tioiiofit. continuous, whieli in itself has no termination, 
 should not the circumstance under narration have 
 been terminated. But it is unpleasant, frorn its 
 being indefinite; for all like to descry the end. 
 Wherefore it is that racers pant and faint away just 
 at the turn; for before, while they have the goal in 
 view before them, they do not tire. The continuous 
 style, then, is this. 
 
 3. Keflex But the reflex is that which consists of periods. 
 
 style 111 J gj^jj ^ period a form of words which has independ- 
 periods 
 
 ' ently in itself a beginning and ending, and a length 
 
 easily taken in at a glance. A diction of this descrip- 
 tion is pleasing, and easily conveys information : now 
 is pleas- it is pleasing from its being the opposite of that 
 •"S- which is indefinite''; and because the hearer all along 
 
 supposes that he is securing something, from the cir- 
 cumstance that something is constantly finished oif 
 for him ; but the not foreseeing nor despatching any 
 Easily re- thing is unpleasant : and it easily conveys informa- 
 membcr- fign^ because it is easily remembered ; this, however, 
 is the case, because the diction which consists of pe- 
 riods has number, which of all things is most easily 
 recollected. And hence every one remembers verse 
 better than prose ; for it has numbers by which it is 
 
 4. The pe- measured. The period ought also to be terminated 
 finis™^' with the sense, and not to be interrupted like this 
 ■with the verse of Sophocles, — 
 
 sense. 4 " While other sentences are indefinite, and (like a 
 
 geometrical right line) may be produced indefinitely, the period 
 (like a circular line) is always circumscribed, returns and 
 terminates at a given point. In other words, while other sen- 
 tences, by the help of common copulatives, have a sort of 
 boundless effusion, the constituent parts of a period have a 
 sort of reflex union, in which union the sentence is so far com- 
 plete, as neither to reijuire, nor even to admit a further exten- 
 sion. Readers find a pleasure in this grateful circuit, which 
 leads them so agreeably to an acquisition of knowledge." 
 Harris, Philolog. Inq. P. ii. u. 4. He quotes the commence- 
 ment of his own Hermes and Philosophical Arrangements, 
 with the opening of Cicero's Offices, Demosthenes' Oration 
 concerning the Crown, and that of the Panegyric by Isocrates, 
 (whom he calls the father of periods,) as instances of period- 
 ical style. 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 231 
 
 " This is Calydon, land of the territory of Pelops^." 
 For by dividing it is possible to understand the con- 
 traiy [of the fact], as in the case of the instance 
 cited, that Calydon is in Peloponnesus. 
 
 A period either consists of clauses, or is simple. 5- A pe- 
 But the period consisting of clauses is a mode of ^Jjie/jji 
 speech perfect and distinct, and easily pronounced clauses or 
 at a breath ; not, however, at the point of division, simple, 
 like the fore-mentioned period, but altogether. And 
 a clause is one subdivision of it. By a simple period, 
 I mean one consisting of a single clause. 
 
 But neither the clauses nor the periods ought to 6. They 
 be either curtailed or prolix ; for their brevity often ?l"^^°' 
 causes the hearer to feel a hitch ; since it needs must tailed, 
 be, if while he is yet [in thought] hastening onward, 
 that limit of termination which he conceives within 
 himself happens to be thrown back by the speaker's 
 ceasing, that a kind of hitch, as it were, occurs, owing 
 to the impulse backward. Those, however, which Nor pro- 
 are prolix cause the hearer to be left behind ; just 
 as they who make the turn too far on the outside of 
 the goal, for they don't keep up with those walking 
 with them''; and in a similar way, periods which are 
 prolix grow into an oration, and are something like 
 a desultory ode'. So that that occurs which Demo- 
 critus, the Chian, joked Melanippides about, viz. that 
 he produced desultory odes instead of antistrophes. 
 " A man in framing a nuisance for others, frames 
 one for himself; and long tedious odes are the great- 
 est nuisance to him who produces them^;" for it is 
 appropriate enough to hold such language as this 
 respecting the framers of prolix clauses. But those 
 which are brief in their clauses do not, in fact, be- 
 come periods ; therefore they draw on the hearer by 
 fits and starts. 
 
 * This line is found quoted hy Lucian, as taken from a 
 drama of Euripides, no longer extant, entitled Meleager. 
 
 ^ Probably an English sergeant would have illustrated this 
 by a column wheeling into line. 
 
 ' See the note on § 1 of this chapter. 
 
 ^ A neat parody this on Hesiod, 0pp. et C t. 263. 
 
232 ARISTOTLE.'S [book hi, 
 
 7. Style Of style which consists of periods, one species is 
 fa^e^ther^^ merely divided [by disjunctives], another has an an- 
 Siriprifihri tithcsis. Simply divided, as, " I have often felt sur- 
 er am- prised at those who convened the general assemblies . 
 K^Lfiiuri. ^^^9 gg^^yjgjjg^ tjje gymnastic contests." The style, 
 however, which has antithesis, is that in which, in 
 each clause, either there is one contrary put in con- 
 junction with another, or the same is linked in con- 
 nexion with contraries : as, " They benefited both, as 
 well those who remained behind, as those who joined 
 the expedition; since they made acquisitions for the 
 latter more than they possessed at home ; while to 
 the former they abandoned, in what remained at 
 home, a full competence." The ideas set in opposition 
 are, — staying behind, — joining the expedition ; com- 
 petence, — ^more. [And in this sentence] : " So that 
 both to those who wanted money, and to those who 
 desired to enjoy il," etc. Here enjoyment stands op- 
 posed to acquisition. And again : " It happens fre- 
 quently in these cases, that while the prudent fail, 
 the simple succeed." — " Forthwith, indeed, they claim- 
 ed the prize of highest valour, and not long after they 
 gained the sovereignty of the sea." — " That he sailed, 
 indeed, through the main land, and marched across 
 the sea; joining with a bridge the Hellespont, while 
 he channelled through mount Athos." Again : " That, 
 citizens though they were by birth, they were yet de- 
 prived by law of their franchise in the city." — " While 
 some of them miserably perished, others were dis- 
 gracefully preserved." Again : " That privately, in- 
 deed, he employed barbarian slaves ; while in public 
 he allowed many of the allies to be in slavery :" — 
 8. " Either they would possess it while alive, or leave it 
 behind when dead." Again, the expression which 
 some one made use of against Pitholaus and Lyco- 
 phron in the court : " T^ey sold you, indeed, when 
 they were at home ; but when they were come to us, 
 they were themselves bought." — For all these [anti- 
 theses] produce the fore-mentioned effect. 
 
 ' " In hoc loco TO KoL non tain copulandi, quam discernendi 
 vim habet." Ernest. Lex. Tech. 
 
CHAP. IX.] RHETORIC. 233 
 
 And a style of this description is pleasing, because 
 contraries are most easily apprehended, and, when 
 set by each other's side, they become still more easy 
 of apprehension : and because they bear a resemblance 
 to a reasoning process ; for the elenchus is an infer- 
 ence of contraries. Such, then, is antithesis: — but an 9. Equi- 
 equipoise occurs if the clauses be equal ; and allitera- P""*!' 
 uon, it each or the clauses have its extremities simi- „.,s. 
 lar : and [this similarity] it needs must have either Allitora- 
 at the beginning or ending ; and the beginning al- ^""q. 
 ways has original words [similar'"]; but the ending, ^ioiwais. 
 either last syllables [which are similar], or inflections 
 of the same word, or the same word itself. [Instances 
 of alliteration] at the beginning, are as follow": 
 
 'ArPdf ydp iXa^sv 'A¥Vdi/ Trap' au-roD, 
 For he received from him land untill'd. 
 
 AuipijTot t' 'EIIEXouto, Trapd^priToi t' 'ETIEEff(rtv, 
 By presents pleased, hy words appeased. 
 
 And at the ending, thus : 
 
 'Q^drjtrav avTov -n-alSioi/ t£toKENAI, AW aitTOv aiTLOV ytyo- 
 
 NENAI. 
 They thought that he was the father, but that there was a 
 
 cause for it. 
 
 'Ej/ TrXcitTTats <^jooyTI2I, Kai tv IXaxitTTat^ tXirlSI. 
 Anxiety at the highest, hope at the lowest. 
 
 Inflections of the same word, — "What ! give him a 
 brazen statue who did not deserve a brass farthing ?" 
 The same word, — "In his life you spoke ill of him, 
 
 "• If you would produce alliteration at the commencement 
 of a clause, you must employ words which, in their original 
 form and previously to any inflection, are similar ; since in that 
 situation, a similarity will fail of striking you which depends 
 merely on one or two syllables at the end of the words, such 
 as may be found to exist, in a greater or lesser degree, between 
 all nouns of the same declension, etc. (e. g. Latin nouns of the 
 third declension ending in o) ; at the conclusion, however, of 
 a clause, a weaker and less striking similarity will suffice. 
 Compare his first example with those following the words 
 Itti TfXayx^s. 
 
 " As no English words occur to me which vrill at once ex- 
 cmpliiy the alliteration, and prove a literal translation of the 
 Greek, I have set down the original words as I find them. 
 They have been given in Latin thus, — AGRum accepit 
 ^GRitm ab ipso. 
 
234 AEISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 and now after his death you write ill." And on a 
 single syllable, — " "What ill would you have suffered, 
 if you had witnessed! an indolent man ?" 
 Same And it is possible for the same words to possess, at 
 
 niay have ^he same time, all these ; and for the same example to 
 antithe- be both an antithesis, equipoised, and having rhyme. 
 sis, equi- jjut the heads of periods have nearly been enumerat- 
 Ape'^at ed in my Ehetoric to Theodectes. Also there are 
 once. false antitheses, such as Epicharmus was in the habit 
 ^"f S^^ of making. : as, " Once was I in their [country] ; 
 SOS. once was I among them." 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 W/ience are quoted the Elegancies and approved Beauties 
 of Style. 
 
 l.Elegan- BuT as a detail of these subjects has been given, we 
 cies and must state whence the elegancies and approved beau- 
 beaXcl'^ ties [of style] are derived. Now the power of in- 
 of stylo, venting them belongs, either to the man of high na- 
 tural genius, or to one of talent chastened by discipline; 
 but to exhibit the sources of them is the business of 
 this system ; wherefore, let us treat of, and fully 
 enumerate them. 
 2. The "And let this be our fundamental principle : for the 
 
 funda- receiving information with ease, is naturally pleasing 
 principle to aU'; and nouns are significant of something; so 
 is /uaBii- that all those nouns whatsoever which produce know- 
 "'"■ ledge in the mind, are most pleasing. Now, the fo- 
 
 reign expressions are unintelligible; and words of. 
 Metaphor common use we already understand. But the meta- 
 produces pj^^j. jjj ^^{jg highest degree produces this effect [of 
 ' giving pleasure] ; for when the poet calls old age 
 
 " stubble," he produces in us a knowledge and in- 
 
 ' See this principle of pleasure stated in hook i. c. 11, § 23. 
 Again, (book ii. c. 24, § 30,) refutative enthymems are prefer- 
 red to confirmative on the same principle, — Sii t6 amaymynv 
 IvavTlwv tivai iu MIKPS2. 
 
CHAP. X.]- RHETORIC. 235 
 
 formation by means of a common genus ^; for both 
 are past their prime. 'Sow, the similes of the poets 3- and 
 also produce the same effect ; on which account, should ^^' 
 they be neatly managed, an elegance strikes you. 
 For the simile, as has been remarked before', is me- 
 taphor with the difference of the addition [of a par- 
 ticle denoting similitude] ; on which account it is less 
 pleasing, because more at length : and it does not 
 assert that "this is that;" the mind therefore does 
 not at all require if*. 
 
 It cannot but be, then, both that the style and the *•, Words 
 arguments which render the act of information rapid, produce 
 are elegant ; on which account, neither are superfi- rapid ^a- 
 cial arguments held in approbation ; (for, by super- *,'''^" ^^ 
 ficial, I mean such as are obvious to every one, and 
 which require no search ;) nor those which, when 
 stated, are not understood^: but all those whatsoever 
 which are apprehended, either simultaneously with 
 their being uttered, (supposing even that no previous 
 knowledge of them existed,) or by which the intellect 
 is a Uttle left behind ; for there accrues, as it were, a 
 piece of information ; in the two former cases, how- 
 ever, none. 
 
 As far, then, as respects the meaning of what is 5. The ex- 
 said, reasonings of this description are approved ; but ^J^Sr 
 as to the expression, if they be worded (in figure) antitheti- 
 antithetieally^; as, " deeming the common peace of <^ 
 
 ' " By the genus; that is, where the common quality which 
 constitutes the likeness immediately occurs," etc. Twining. 
 This metaphor, according to the distinction of the Poetic, 
 would be called air ei^oDs kiri eI^os — from one species of things 
 decayed to another. 
 
 ^ In the fourth chapter of this hook. 
 
 ■• For the mind, hurrying on to obtain further information 
 respecting the object in question, without patising to ascertain 
 what it is like or equal to, desires only to know what it redUy 
 is. See chap. 4, § 1. 
 
 ^ The case with these two descriptions of argument is the 
 same as with the yXon-xai and Kupia omfiaTa respectively. 
 With this passage compare book ii. c. 24, § 30. 
 
 ^ The consideration of daTila having been ranged under the 
 beads of their Sidvota and Xe'J n, he proceeds here to subdivide 
 his discussion of Xtgii, in reference to its whole sentences. 
 
best. 
 
 236 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 the rest, a very war to their individual interests :" 
 6. here " war " is opposed to " peace ;" and (in single 
 words) if they possess metaphor, and this neither far- 
 fetched, for it will be difiicult to view it in connexion ; 
 nor superficial, for it produces no effect : and, more- 
 over, if they place the object before your eyes ; for it 
 needs must be, that one sees more clearly what is ac- 
 tually in the course of being done, than what is about 
 Throe to be. We ought then to aim at three things, meta- 
 thingsto phor, antithesis, and personification', 
 ati^eta- But of metaphor, which is fourfold,* that species 
 plior, an- is in the highest degree approved which is construct- 
 ''ersorifi- ^^ °° similar ratios; just as Pericles said, "that the 
 cation. youth which had perished in the war, had so vanished 
 7. Meta- from the city, as if one were to take the spring from 
 f'^^^ld™ the year ^." And Leptines, speaking of the Lacedse- 
 analogical monians, " that he would do all in his power to pro- 
 ones the vent Greece from being deprived of an eye." And 
 Cephisodotus, when Chares was eager to present the 
 accounts about the Olynthiac war, grew nettled, and 
 said, " Now that he has got the populace with their 
 necks in a halter, he is endeavouring to present his 
 accounts." Again, when he once was exhorting tlie 
 Athenians, as they were going for provisions, to go 
 to Euboea for them, he said, " the decree of Miltiades 
 should go forth to the expedition." And Iphiorates, 
 when the Athenians had made a league with Epidau- 
 rus and the neighbourhood of the coast, was indig- 
 nant, and exclaimed that, " of themselves they had 
 
 (i. e. its figure, o-x^/ua,) or its single words, (i. e. what is 
 usually called, trope). 
 
 ' From the Tariety of words by which hlpytia has been 
 rendered, "personification" has been selected, as approaching 
 tlie nearest to the correspondent expression, 'Jrpd o^iiariav. 
 The effect is produced by representing inanimate objects as 
 the agents in any thing : thus, " pontem indignatus Araxes." 
 See the next chapter. 
 
 ' A metaphorical word is a word transferred from its proper 
 sense, either from genus to species, or from species to genus, or 
 from one species to another, or in the way of analogy. Poet, 
 xxi. transl. by Twining. See chap. 2, § 14, seq. 
 
 ' See book i. 7, J 34. Herodotus puts a similar expression 
 in the mouth of Gelon, book vii. 162. 
 
CBA.P. X.] RHETORIC. 237 
 
 cut off the very provision of the war." And Pitho- Various 
 laus called [the state yacht] Paralus, " the mace of ^^^"''^^ 
 the populace ;" and Sestus, " the corn-chest of the proved 
 Piraeus." And Pericles hade them away with ^gina, ™eta- 
 " the eye-sore of the Piraeus." And Moerocles said, ^ '"^' 
 " that he was no more a knave than the other," nam- 
 ing some good sort of man ; " since that person in- 
 deed played the rogue at the rate of thirty per cent., 
 himself however merely at ten per cent, usury ^'^." 
 And that iambic verse of Anaxandrides on his 
 daughters, who were long in getting married : " The 
 virgins have forfeited the nuptial recognisance^^." 
 And that saying of Polyeuctus about one Speusippus, 
 who was struck by apoplexy, " that he was unable to 
 keep quiet, bound as he was by fortune in a complete 
 pillory of a disease." Cephisodotus, too, used to call 
 the triremes, "painted corn-mills :" as did the Cynic 
 Diogenes the taverns, "the public teSto'^ of Athens." 
 JEsion, too, used the expression, "pouring out the 
 city into Sicily," (for this is metaphorical, and sets 
 the object before the eyes,) " so that all Greece ex- 
 claimed " and this too is in a certain way a metaphor, 
 and personifies. And as Cephisodotus bade them be 
 
 '" The Mghest rate of interest (tokos) permitted among the 
 Greeks appears to have been one third of the principal 
 (i-n-iTpn-os) ; the lowest rate which was usual was one tenth 
 merely of the principal (iTrtSe/caTos) : so that Moerocles was 
 less a villain than this E'TritiKr;?, in the same ratio in which ten 
 per cent, was less usurious than three and thirty. The meta- 
 phor, however, is stated by some as resulting from the com- 
 parison of the ratio of character to the ratio of usury ; and by 
 others, from the application of the general word, 7rowipEU£ff8ai, 
 to the transactions of usurers in particular. It will be ob- 
 served, that in translating iTrtVpiT-os, the round numbers have 
 been taten. 
 
 " Addison, too, classes certain of his fair readers (though 
 certainly differently circumstanced from the daughters of Anax- 
 andrides) under the metaphorical appellation of " demurrers," 
 borrowed from the Englidi legal nomenclature. See Specta- 
 tor, No. 89. 
 
 12 4>Ei5iVia, the public tables of Lacedsemon, remarkable for 
 their plainness and frugality : so that, in saying that the only 
 <jtEidiTia of Athens were its taverns, Diogenes conveyed a most 
 bitter sarcasm against the manners of its citizens. 
 
238 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 on their guard, " lest thej rendered their very popu- 
 lar assemblies so many rows;" just as Isocrates,_ also, 
 [used the expression] of persons " making a row in the 
 general convention." And as in the funeral speech 
 [of Lycias], " there was reason for Greece to shear 
 her locks over the grave of those who fell at Salamis, 
 since her liberty had been buried jointly with their 
 valour :" for had he said that " there was reason she 
 should weep, her liberty having been buried with 
 them ;" it would indeed have been a metaphor, and 
 have given personification ; but the words, " their 
 valour," " her liberty," convey a kind of antithesis. 
 And, as Iphicrates said, "Tlaspath of my arguments 
 is through the midst of the actions of Chares :" the 
 metaphor here is on similar ratios, and the expres- 
 sion, " through the midst," produces personification. 
 Also the saying, " that he challenged dangers to be 
 his allies against dangers," is both a personification 
 and a metaphor. And Lycoleon, pleading for Cha- 
 brias, said, " [What, not pardon him] out of a respect 
 for the suppliancy '^ of his brazen statue :" for in the 
 then crisis it was a metaphor, but not always ; but 
 the personification [was perpetual] ; for pending his 
 trial the statue acts as suppliant, the inanimate as an 
 animated object, — " that memento of the exploits of 
 the state." Again, " Making it their study, by every 
 means, to think meanly ;" [this is metaphorical,] since 
 study is with a view to advance [not to diminish]. 
 And the expression that " God has kindled the intel- 
 lect as a light in the soul ;" for both in a certain sense 
 illuminate. — " For we put no period to our wars, but 
 put them ofi" ;" since both putting off, and a peace of 
 
 " Chabi'ias seems to have teen the first who ordered his 
 troops to assume a kneeling position in receiving the charge of 
 an enemy : at the time -when he adopted this manoeuvre, he 
 headed some Athenian troops auxiliary to the Bceotians, and 
 completely succeeded in repulsing the forces of Agesilaus. 
 This improvement in tactics seems to have been so favourably 
 received, that statues were decreed him to be erected in the 
 attitude of kneeling. 'O Si Xa/3fiias ttoW&v c(ii-cS irEirpaytiivaiv 
 KttTti iroXinoit^iTri toi5tw fidXiarTa ^<T7\fxv&6zTO tw trTpcLTti'y^fjLaTit 
 Kal Tas uTTo ToO SnfjLov oo0Ei'(ras auTto Ka&ltnavtv k-)^ov(ra9 toOto 
 TO rxrina. Diodorus -Siculus, 15. 
 
CHAP. XI.] RHETORIC. 239 
 
 this description, are alike things of the future. And 
 again, the declaring " that a truce was a trophy more 
 splendid than those won in war ; since the latter was 
 the result of a trivial occurrence or a single accident, 
 the former were the result of »the whole tenour of 
 the war ;" for both [agree in being] indications of 
 victory. And, that " states pay a heavy punishment 
 to the censure of mankind;" ior punishment is a sort 
 of hurt consonant to justice'''. 
 
 Thus, then, it Jhas been stated that the elegancies 
 result from metaphor constructed on similar ratios, 
 and from personification. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 Of Persmiification. 
 
 But it must be stated what we mean by the expres- 1- Per- 
 sion, " setting forth to the eyes," and in doing what ??'"*i<^^- 
 this effect results. I mean, then, that those expres- presents 
 sions which represent the object as in action, do all the object 
 of them produce the setting before the eyes : for in- ^^^^ 
 stance, the saying of " a good man," that he is " a 2. 
 cube '," is a metaphor ; for both are perfect ; but this 
 does not personify : whereas the speaking of one as 
 " having his prime yet blooming," is a personification. 
 And this, " — but you just as a thing let loose," is a 
 personification. And [in the line] " Then the Greeks 
 springing forth with their feet^; — -" the expression, 
 " springing," is both a personification and a metaphor, 
 for it expresses rapidity. Again, as Homer has in 
 
 i* "We cannot forbear adding to this long catalogue tlie 
 metaphor used by Herodotus, in speaking of the scheme for 
 the defence of Peloponnesus, at the time of the Persian inva- 
 sion, by thro"\ving a wall across the Isthmus : his "words are, 
 that even many cloaks of walls would be insufficient; — d Koi 
 TToXKol Ttixitav KIGQNES riaav i\rjXa[j.iiioi, K. T. X. Book 
 vii. c. 139. 
 
 ' See the expression, Eth. Nich. book i. c. 10. 
 
 = See Eurip. Iph. in Aul. 80. 
 
240 ARISTOTLE'S Ibook ill. 
 
 many places employed it, the putting inanimate 
 
 3. Meta- things as animate, by means of a metaphor ; and in 
 phorspro- j^y ^j.^^ ^j^gj^ producing personification, they are 
 
 cluce It. , . ^ , • i q 
 
 approved; as in these instances^: 
 
 " Back to the plain still roU'd the shameless stone." 
 Again, 
 
 " The arrow /ew." And, " Eager to wing its way." 
 And, 
 
 " Deep fix'd in earth, eager their blood to drain." 
 And, 
 
 " Right through his breast th' impetuous weapon sped." 
 For in all these instances, the objects, from their 
 being animated, appear personified ; for the expres- 
 sions, shamelessness, and eagerness, and the rest, 
 are personifications. These, however, has he ap- 
 pended by means of the metaphor from analogy : for 
 as the stone is to Sisyphus, so is he vpho is insensible 
 of shame, to the object in regard to which he is so 
 
 4. And insensible. He does this, too, in his approved similes, 
 similes, jn the case of inanimate objects ; as, 
 
 " The waves behind impel the waves before, 
 
 Wide rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore'." 
 
 for he produces every thing in life and action. But 
 personification is an imitation [of nature^]. 
 
 5. Meta- But it is fitting to draw your metaphors, as has 
 phors to ijggjj stated, from terms which are appropriate and 
 must"be' not obvious ; just as in philosophy, also, it is the 
 appropri- privilege of one who conjectures happily, to discern 
 nrtab' *^® point of similitude*; as when Archytas observes, 
 vious. " that an arbitrator and an altar are the same," since 
 
 ' These passages severally stand as follows : (1.) Od. xi. 
 597. (2.) II. xiii. 587. (3.) II. iv. 126. (4.) II. xi. 573. 
 (5.) II. XV. 542. 
 
 ' Pope's translation, II. xiii. (of the original), line 799. 
 
 ' And, if an, imitation, necessarily pleasing. See this prin- 
 ciple of pleasure stated, book i. c. U, § 23. 
 
 ^ In speaking of tlie fable, he attributed this faculty of 
 catching such features of resemblance as, without immediately 
 striking, are yet appropriate {o'lKsLa fiij cpdv^pa), to those of a 
 philosophic turn of mind : — to ofioiou bpdv, oirsp puov iartv in 
 <piKoiTo<pias. Lib. ii. cap. 20, § 7. 
 
CHAP. XI.] RHETORIC. 241 
 
 to both does the party who has been wronged fly 
 for refuge. Or if one were to say, " that an anchor 
 and a pot-hanger were the same ;" for both are some- 
 what the same, but they diifer in the circumstance 
 of suspending from above and below. Again, the 
 expression, " the states have been levelled^' is the 
 same in objects widely differing, equality both in 
 power and in superficies. 
 
 Also the greatest number of elegancies arise from 6. They 
 metaphor, and from additionally deceiving the hear- t^e hear- 
 er '; for the point becomes more clear that he has ers agree- 
 learnt something, from the meaning being the oppo- ^^^y- 
 site [of what it was supposed], and thfe mind seems 
 to say, " How true is this ! I however was wrong." 
 And the elegancies of proverbial expressions arise 
 from one's meaning not what he says ; for instance, 
 the words of Stesichorus, that " the grasshoppers 
 shall chirp on the ground*." Also ideas neatly put 
 enigmatically, are for the same reason pleasing ; for 
 there is an acquisition of knowledge, and a metaphor 
 is introduced. Again, that embellishment which Para- 
 Theodorus calls, "saying out-of-the-way things;" 'l"'"'^- 
 this, however, occurs when the sentiment is paradox- 
 ical, and (as he has it) does not square with previous 
 opinion^; just on the same principle as in jokes, 
 words submitted to a slight change. An effect which Jests 
 those jests also produce, which depend on the change ■«'1"^1>, ^'■y 
 
 ' Besides the ornament of metaphor, by leading the hearer, 
 throughout the sentence, to expect something very different 
 from what you really mean, and undeceiving him only by the 
 
 last word; e. g. "Quid hinc abest nisi res et virtus!" 
 
 Cic. de Orat. ii. 70. Here you expect a panegyric ; the last 
 word converts the whole into reproach. Of this description, 
 too, are the following lines of Pope : — ■ 
 
 " Here thou, great Anna ! whom three realms obey. 
 
 Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea!" 
 
 Rape of the Lock, iii. 7. 
 
 The precept may be further illustrated by Person's insidious 
 commendation of Blackmore's poetry :— " He will be read when 
 Homer and Milton are forgotten, — but not till then." 
 
 ' Already quoted, ii. 21, \ 8. 
 
 ' Probably the English word humour would best designate 
 this (juaintness of Theodoras. 
 
 B 
 
 Trap UTTO 
 voLav. 
 
242 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 of a letter, for they deceive [the hearer's anticipa- 
 tion] : it happens also in metre ; for it terminates not 
 in the way in which the hearer supposed ; thus, 
 
 He proceeded -wearing under his feet — chilblains ">. 
 Whereas the hearer was imagining that " sandals," 
 (TTt'SiXa), would be the word". This, however, as 
 soon as it is uttered, ought to be clear. But these 
 changes of a letter cause the speaker to say, not what 
 the word expresses, but what its inversion signifies : 
 as in the jest of Theodorus, on Nicon the lyrist, 
 " Thee did a Thracian — " (Gparrr;) ; for what he 
 pretends to say is, " It annoys (Gparrti) you "2," and 
 deceives the audience ; wherefore to one who has 
 caught it, the joke is pleasing ; since if one is not 
 aware that he is a Thracian, it will not appear to 
 7. Puns, be a beauty. Again, the expression, you wish him 
 irepaai [i. e. either to side with Persia — to ruin him]. 
 Both meanings, however, should be in point, and so 
 also in the case of the elegancies ; thus the saying, 
 " The sovereignty (apxn) of the sea, was not the be- 
 ginning {apxh} of evils to the Athenians ; since it 
 was a gain to them." Or, as Isocrates says, " that 
 its sovereignty (apxri) was to the city a beginning 
 
 '" See note 1, at p. 88, of Carrington's translation of Aris- 
 tophanes' Plutus ; where a similar surprise arises from the use 
 of fVii/fs instead of t/cpii/ijs. 
 
 ^^ This is sometimes aptly enough termed ■napct irpoaSoKiai/, 
 haffling the expectation. 
 
 '^ Nicon, it seems, was the son of a Thracian slave ; and 
 Theodoras, conveniently mistaking the word epirrH for 
 SpaxrEI, takes an opportunity of taunting him with his low 
 birth. QpaTToi, probably contracted from TapdTTio. Vid. 
 Blomfield in iEschyl. Prom. Vinct. 649. There are on record 
 two excellent replies to taunts of this nature ; one made by 
 Mnestheus, son of Iphicrates, who declared that he esteemed 
 his mother above Ms father, — " Nam Pater, quantum in se 
 fuit, Thracem me genuit: contra ea, mater Atheniensem ;" 
 (Corn. Nep. Iphic. 3;) where it should be observed, that Rut- 
 gersius, for contra ea mater, proposes to read cum Thraca ma- 
 ter. The other is attributed to Timotheus, who having the 
 condition of his mother as a Thracian slave thrown out against 
 him as a reproach, replied, " But to her I owe it that I am 
 Conon's son." Athenaeus, lib. xii. 
 
CHAP. XI.] KHETORIC. 213 
 
 (cipx>)) of evils." For in either acceptation, that is 
 stated which one did not imagine he would say ; and 
 that it is true, is acknowledged. For to assert that a 
 beginning is a beginning, shows no great wisdom ; 
 but he repeats [the word apx")]) not in this sense, 
 but differently ; and he does not repeat the same 
 "PX"? T^hich he first said, but in a different sense. 
 And in all these cases, if one introduce the term 8. 
 appropriately under an equivocation or metaphor, 
 then there is wit ; for instance, there is no bearing 
 Baring^^: here the speaker denies the correspond- 
 ence of signification, but appropriately enough, if 
 [the person alluded to] be disagreeable." Again, 
 " You cannot become more a stranger [Jtvoc], than 
 becomes you as a guest [iivoo]" or not in a greater 
 degree than you ought, which is the same ; and " it 
 becomes not a stranger [leVoe] always to be a guest 
 [^ivoo]." For the meanings here also are different. 
 The same, too, is that commended saying of Anax- 
 andrides, " It is honourable to die before doing aught 
 worthy death;" for it is the same as saying, " It is 
 worthy a man to die when he is not worthy to suffer 
 death ;" or, " It is worthy a man to die when he is 
 not worthy [the punishment] of death ; or, when he 
 has not committed acts worthy that punishment." 
 Now the form of the diction of these sentences is the 9. 
 same ; but in proportion as [the idea] happens to be 
 enunciated in fewer words and with antithesis, in the 
 same proportion is it more approved. And the rea- 
 son is, that the information becomes by means of the 
 antithesis, fuller ; by means of brevity, more rapid. 
 Such sentiments ought always to have either some 10. There 
 
 one of whom they are said, or happiness of expres- ^■''""'ibe 
 ,.«, *^ riT-i 1 someper- 
 
 sion (it what you say Lwould appearj earnest, and sou to 
 
 not mere idle remark) ; for it is possible to have one ■«'hom 
 of those qualities without the other : for instance, apply'"^' 
 " You ought to die without having committed an 
 error ;" [the sentiment is just enough], but [the ex- 
 pression^ is not elegant : " A deserving man should 
 
 '^ So, too, the Latins, Lepidus non lepidus, 
 R 2 
 
244 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 marry a deserving woman;" but this is not ele- 
 gant'''; but if it possess both qualities at the same 
 time, as " It is worthy a man to die while he is not 
 worthy of suffering death." But in proportion as a 
 sentence possesses the greater number of these orna- 
 ments, in the same proportion does it appear more 
 elegant ; if, for instance, the words be metaphors, 
 and metaphors of such a species'^, and if there be 
 antithesis, and equipoise of clauses, and if it have 
 personification. 
 U. Similes also, as has been uniformly stated in the 
 Similes foregoing, are in some way approved metaphors ; for 
 of meta- they always are expressed in two terms, like the ana- 
 phor. logical metaphor ; thus, " the shield," we say, " is 
 the cup of Mars ;" the bow, " a stringless lyre." Thus, 
 then, persons express the metaphor not unaccom- 
 panied ; whereas the calling a bow, " a lyre ;" or a 
 shield " a cup," is without accompanying explan- 
 
 12. ation '^. And on this principle men construct their 
 similes ; for instance, that of a flute-player to an 
 ape, and of a near-sighted person to a sputtering 
 
 13. lamp ; for both contract themselves. But the excel- 
 lence will exist when there is a metaphor ; for you 
 may represent by a simile the shield as " the cup of 
 Mars," and a ruin as " the rags of a house ;" and the 
 saying of Niceratus, that, " he was himself a Philoc- 
 tetes bitten by Pratys," as Thrasymachus drew the 
 simile when he saw Niceratus, who had been beaten 
 by Pratys in a contest of rhapsodists '^, with his hair 
 
 '* As far as the expression is concerned, this instance seems 
 to possess the necessary elegance ; but it is deficient in the 
 second requisite, viz. to -n-pds ov XzyETai, 
 
 '^ The metaphor constructed on similar ratios (jcar' avaXo- 
 yiav) is here alluded to : see chap. 10, ^ 7. 
 
 " In the Poetic, he says that, in the case of the analogical 
 metaphor, " sometimes the proper term is also introduced, be- 
 sides its relative term ;" and this, with a view to guard the 
 metaphor from any incidental harshness or obscurity : with 
 such an adjunct, the metaphor ceases to be a-?r\oSs ; e. g. 
 tpidXjj "Aptos — thus expressed, the metaphor is oOx dirXou9 ; 
 but if stated simply (^itiXij, it is aTrXoDs. See Twining notes 
 184, 189, on the Poetic. 
 
 " Witli a view to elucidate the simile of Thrasymachus, it 
 
CHAP. XI.] RHETORIC. 245 
 
 long and disordered, and his person still neglected. 
 In which points, if they be not neatly managed, the 
 poets most frequently get hissed off, even should 
 they in other respects stand high. I mean when the 
 poet replies [to his particle of similitude thus], 
 "Like parsley he has crooked legs." — "Like Phi- 
 lammon on the bench, struggling with the ball " [or, 
 with Corycus]. And all such expressions are si- 
 miles ; but that similes are metaphors has frequently 
 been stated. 
 
 Proverbs also are metaphors from species to spe- U. And 
 cies : thus if any one, as though likely to experience P™'*'^''^^ 
 a benefit, should himself introduce a measure and 
 afterwards suffer loss from it, then one exclaims, 
 " As the Carpathian fetched the hare '^ ! " for both 
 parties have experienced the thing in point. Now 
 the sources whence these elegancies are deduced, and 
 the cause why [they are pleasing], has nearly been 
 told you. 
 
 Again, hyperboles which are recognised are meta- 15. So too 
 phors ; as that about a person with a black eye : ^'^^'^ype'"- 
 " Tou would have thought him a basket of mulber- 
 ries ;" for the part beneath the eye is somewhat suf- 
 fused ^vith blood : but this is greatly forced. But 
 the [simile with the expression of similitude] just as, 
 so and so, is hyperbole, differing merely in the dic- 
 tion. "Like Philammon on the bench struggling 
 with the ball," [becomes hyperbole thus ;] " You 
 would have thought he was Philammon struggling 
 with the ball." "Like parsley he has crooked legs," 
 [thus arranged becomes an hyperbole;] "I thought 
 not that he had legs, but parsley stalks, so crooked 
 were they." But hyperboles suit with the temper- 16. 
 ament of the young, for they evince a vehemence of 
 
 has teen conjectured that the story of Philoctetes might have 
 been the subject of this rhapsodical declamation. 
 
 " The island of Carpafhus being destitute of hares, one of 
 the inhabitants brought over some of these animals, which 
 proved so fatally prolific as to consume all the crops in the 
 island ; and the Carpathians became more anxious to extirpate 
 them than they had ever been for their introduction. 
 
24G ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 temper ; (on which account the angry most frequently- 
 utter them ; [thus Achilles in his wrath exclaims,] 
 
 Though bribes -were heap'd on bribes, in number more 
 Thau dust in fields, or sands along the shore, 
 
 Atrides' daughter never shall be led. 
 
 An ill-match'd consort to Achilles' bed ; 
 
 Like golden Venus though she charm'd the heart. 
 
 Or vied with Pallas in the works of art". Pope. 
 
 The Attic rhetoricians, too, particularly employ this 
 figure ;) on which account for a man in advanced life 
 to utter them is bad taste. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Tlmt a distinct Style is appropriate to each Species of 
 Mhetoric. 
 
 1. Differ- NEITHER ought it to escape us, that to each kind of 
 ent styles rhetoric is adapted a peculiar style : for neither are 
 
 SLT6 suit" •/ ' 
 
 able to the Style which is adapted to writing and that of dis- 
 each sort putation the same, nor the style of deliberative and 
 of oratory. ^^^^ ^f jmjjgial rhetoric. But it is necessary to be 
 acquainted with both [the first and the second] : for 
 the one consists in knowing the purity of language ; 
 the other in the not being obliged to sit mute, if one 
 wish to communicate any thing to others ; the very 
 predicament in which they who know not how to 
 
 2. The write are placed. But the style of writing is the most 
 Avntten precise : that of disputation partakes more of declam- 
 raostpre- ation ; and of it there are two species, the one conveys 
 cise; that the impress of character, the other of feeling. And 
 putation ^'^nce actors choose this description of drama, and the 
 most de- poets this sort [of actors]. But poets fit for perusal 
 clamato- are carried about with us, like Chceremon, for he is 
 Yi\y,o ^s nicely finished as a rhetorician ; and, of the Dithy- 
 kinds, rambic poets, Licymnius. 
 
 7,dm], Thus also, on comparing speeches together, those 
 
 (v-«. '9 Iliad, ix. 385—388. 
 
CHAP, xii.] RHETORIC. 247 
 
 adapted to writing appear jejune when delivered at 
 disputations ; while those of the declaimers, excellent 
 as they were when delivered, seem mere common- 
 place in the closet ; and the reason is, that in disputa- 
 tion [these things] are appropriate enough. On which Declama- 
 account, compositions framed for declamation, inas- rS™^' 
 much as, when abridged of their declamation, they do -whenread 
 not produce their effect, appear ridiculous : thus, the appear ri- 
 omission of connectives, and frequent repetitions, in '^ °™' 
 a written style are justly exploded; yet in the style 
 of disputation even the rhetoricians employ them, for 
 they are adapted to declamation. Yet it is necessary 3. 
 in repeating the same thing to vary the expression ; 
 which indeed opens a way, as it were, to declamation : 
 [e. g.] " This is he who robbed you ; this is he who 
 defrauded you ; this is he who at last endeavoured to 
 betray you." Just as Philemon the actor used to do 
 in the " Gerontomania " of Anaxandrides, when Eha- 
 damanthus and Palamedes speak ; and in the opening 
 scene of the " Devotees " [in the recurrence of] the 
 word /. For if one does not give these passages with 
 declamation, it becomes [a case in point with the pro- 
 verb] " Stiff as one carrying a beam." And so also i- 
 where connectives are wanting, "I came, I met, I 
 besought him ;" for you needs must give it with de- 
 clamation, and not, as though simply saying one thing, 
 enunciate it with the same manner and tone. There 
 is, moreover, a certain peculiarity which omissions of 
 connectives possess ; for it strikes one that, in an 
 equal length of time, many things have been stated ; 
 for the connective makes many, one ; so that if it be 
 taken away, it is evident that on the contrary one 
 will be many. It possesses, then, amplification ; " I 
 came, I conversed with, I besought," being many, — 
 " he seems to overlook all I have said, all I now say." 
 Homer is desirous of producing this effect in the 
 lines : 
 
 " Three ships livith Nireus sought the Trojan shore, 
 
 Nireus, -whom Aglae to Charopus bore, 
 
 Nireus, in faultless shape '," etc. Pope. 
 
 ■ Iliad, ii. 671. 
 
243 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book III. 
 
 5. De- 
 liberative 
 style like 
 sketch- 
 ing, and 
 not accu- 
 rate. 
 Judicial 
 style more 
 precise. 
 
 Epideic- 
 tic style 
 more 
 suited to 
 writing. 
 The judi- 
 cial next. 
 6. Con- 
 clusion of 
 the second 
 division, 
 
 8cil.X£'Jl9. 
 
 For of whom a great deal is said, tliat man must needs 
 be spoken oi frequently; and therefore if one be 
 spoken of frequently, it appears that a great deal has 
 been said of him. So that the poet mentioning him 
 only once, by help of this sophism amplifies the cha- 
 racter, and has excited a recollection of him, though 
 he no where subsequently mentions him. 
 
 Now the deliberative style is exactly like sketch- 
 ing; for in proportion as the ci'owd is larger, the 
 view is taken from a greater distance ; on which ac- 
 count, in the one as well as in the other, productions 
 of an exquisite finish are superfluous, and look worse 
 than others. But the judicial is a thing of greater 
 nicety : and in a still higher degree where it is be- 
 fore a single judge ; for least of all is this within the 
 reach of rhetorical artifice ; since the peculiar points 
 of the case are more easily concentrated to the view, 
 than what is merely external : and the heat of dis- 
 putation is out of the question, so that the decision 
 is fair and clear. And on this account the same 
 speakers are not approved in all these kinds; but 
 where there is most of declamation, there least of all 
 is accuracy : this, however, is the case where power 
 of voice is requisite, and particularly if a consider- 
 able power. 
 
 The demonstrative style, however, is most adapted 
 to writing ; for its purpose is perusal : second to it 
 [in this adaptation] is the judicial. 
 
 But to draw any further distinctions on the sub- 
 ject of style, that it ought to be pleasing and mag- 
 nificent, is superfluous : for why should it be such 
 rather than temperate and liberal, or if there be any 
 other moral virtue? For that the foregoing rules 
 will cause it to be pleasing is manifest, if indeed ex- 
 cellence of style has been correctly defined: — for 
 with a view to what must it be, [according to our 
 definition,] "clear and not mean, hut-ingood tastef" 
 For should it become prosing, it is no longer clear, 
 neither if it should be too concise. But it is plain 
 that the mean is appropriate. And the foregoing 
 precepts wiU. cause its being pleasing, should the 
 
CHAP, xiu.] KHETORIC. 249 
 
 ordinary expressions have been judiciously blended 
 with the foreign, and should rhythm [not be want- 
 ing], and the persuasive influence resulting from 
 good taste. 
 
 The subject of style has then been treated^, as well 
 generally, respecting all the species of rhetoric, as 
 particularly, respecting each. But it yet remains to 
 treat of arrangement. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 Of the Parts of a Speech. 
 
 The parts of a speech are two ; for it is necessary to 1. Two 
 state the case about which it is, and to prove it. P^^rtso^a 
 Wherefore for one, after stating, not to prove it, or 
 to proceed to prove it without a previous statement, 
 is out of the question : for whoever proves, proves 
 something ; and he who makes a previous statement, 
 makes such statement with a view to subsequently 
 proving it. And of these parts, the one is the state- 2. State- 
 ment, the other the proof; just as though' one were p™*; 
 to make a division into problem and demonstration. 3. Divi- 
 But the divisions which they now usually make are sions 
 ridiculous ; for narration is a kind of peculiarity to ^^^^ ^ 
 judicial speeches alone ; for how can there, in de- ivritere 
 monstrative and deliberative speeches, be any narra- censured, 
 tion such as they speak of, or any reply, confutation 
 of an adversary, or any peroration of points selected 
 for display of character ? 
 
 But exordium, contrast of argument, and recapi- 
 tulation^, do then only occur in deliberative speeches 
 
 ^ Thus ends the second branch of the grand division of the 
 work ; — TTto-xis — Xt^is — Ta^is. See the last note on book ii. 
 
 ' That is, to adopt the language of mathematicians, the 
 statement corresponds to their problem, the proof to their de- 
 monstration. It -will readUy be observed that ttio-tis is here 
 used in a sense different from that which it has hitherto pre- 
 served. 
 
 ^ Est et illud repetendi genus quod semel proposita iterat et 
 dividit : — 
 
250 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 when an altercation happens ; for, considered as ac- 
 cusation and defence, they frequently [admit these 
 branches], but not in their character of a piece of 
 Perora- advice. IJut the peroration, moreover, is not an es- 
 tionnot sential of every judicial ; for instance, if the speech 
 nccSary. be a short one, or the case easy to be remembered. 
 For it is usual to detract only from what is prolix. 
 The necessary divisions, then, are the statement and 
 the proofs. 
 
 4. Enu- The essential divisions then are these ; but the 
 meration greatest number are, exordium, statement, proof, 
 of them, peroration. The confutation of an adversary belongs 
 
 to the proof ; and the contrast of arguments is an 
 amplification of one's own, so as to be a kind of 
 branch of the proof ; for one who does this proves 
 something : but not so either exordium or peroration ; 
 but [the latter] refreshes the recollection. 
 
 5. No fur- But should one draw distinctions with regard to 
 tiuctions these, that will be the case which the followers of 
 to be Theodoras used to do, there will be a narration dis- 
 drawn. tinct from post-narration, and prEe-narration, together 
 
 with refutation, and post-refutation. But the writer 
 should affix a title only after marking out a distinct 
 species and difference*, otherwise it becomes mere 
 emptiness and trifling; just like Licymnius, who in 
 his treatise gives the titles, irruption — digression — 
 ramifications, etc. 
 
 Iphilus et Pelias mecum ; quorum Iphitus sevo 
 Jam gravior, Pelias et Tulnere tardus Ulixi. 
 
 ^neid, ii. 435. 
 'EIIANOAOS dicitur Graecfe, nostri regressionem vocant. 
 Quintil. ix. 3, 36 — apud Ern. Lex. Teclm. 
 
 ■■' It should be carefully borne in mind, that Aristotle ad- 
 mits only these two branches as essential to every speech. 
 His reasons for superadding exordium and peroration will be 
 developed in the sequel. 
 
 * Without such a restraint, a rhetorician may go on ad in- 
 finitum drawing distinctions where no diiference exists. 
 
CHAP. xiT.] RHETORIC. 251 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Of the Exordium. 
 
 Now the exordium is the commencement of the 1- The 
 speech ; which in poetry is the prologue, and in the r^/^^j™ 
 performances on the pipe, the prelude : for these are the pro- 
 all commencements, and, as it were, an opening of '^"g^^ and 
 the way for what is to succeed. lude^" 
 
 The prelude, then, corresponds to the exordium of Prommi- 
 demonstrative speeches : for the performers on the ^°^. ^. 
 pipe, using as a prelude any piece whatever which oratoiy 
 they are able to execute with skill, connect the whole resembles 
 by an inserted passage : and so in demonstrative j^^ P'^^^^ 
 speeches ought we to write ; for the speaker ought, connected 
 after stating whatever he lists ', straightway to era- ■^.'th the 
 ploy the insertion, and link it [to the body of the theXw- 
 speech]. Which indeed all do, having as their o-i^oi'. 
 model the exordium of the Helen of Isocrates : for ^^sthe 
 there exists no very near connexion between Helen isocrates. 
 and the artifices of sophists^. At the same time, if 
 the exordium be out of the way of the subject, there 
 is this advantage, that the whole speech is not of one 
 uniform character. But the exordia of demonstrative 2. The 
 speeches are derived from praise, or from blame, ^^I^™ 
 (like Gorgias in the Olympic oration, — " Men wor- deriTed 
 thy, O Greeks, of admiration among many ;" for he ^o™ 
 is eulogizing those who instituted the general assem- ^^ ^jj^^g 
 blies : Isocrates, however, blames them, " because sorts of 
 they distinguish by prizes the excellencies of person, oratory, 
 while for those who are wise they propose no re- 
 ward ;") and thirdly, from suggesting advice ; for in- 3. 
 stance, " — because it is fitting to honour the good," 
 on that account [the orator] himself also speaks the 
 praises of Aristides, or such characters as neither 
 enjoy reputation, nor are worthless, but as many as, 
 though they be excellent persons, are obscure; just 
 
 ^ There is, in demonstrative rhetoric, no limitation as to the 
 source whence the exordium is to be derived. 
 * In a reprehension of which this exordium is employed. 
 
252 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 * as was Paris, the son of Priam : for tlius the orator 
 *• conveys advice. Again [vre may borrow demon- 
 strative exordia] from those proper to judicial rhe- 
 toric, i. e. from appeals to the auditor, in case the 
 speech be respecting any thing revolting to opinion, 
 or difficult, or already noised abroad among many, so 
 as to obtain his pardon : as Choerilus begins, " Now 
 after every thing has become public." 
 
 The exordia, then, of demonstrative rhetoric arise 
 from these sources, — from praise, blame, exhortation, 
 dissuasion, and appeals to the hearers. The inserted 
 connective clauses may be either foreign or appro- 
 priate to the subject. 
 5. The ex- With regard to the exordia of judicial rhetoric, we 
 °udi™l°^ must assume that they are equivalent to the opening 
 oratory scenes of dramas, and the exordia of epic poems ; for 
 resembles the commencement of dithyrambic poetry resembles 
 loffu^'^ofa demonstrative exordia, — "on account of thee, thy 
 play. gifts, thy spoils." But in the drama, and in epic 
 t-u ■'"' ?^^' poetry, the commencement is an intimation of the 
 declare subject, that the hearer may foresee what the story is 
 the object about, and that his mind may not be in suspense ; for 
 "i''^h whatever is indeterminate bewilders us. He then 
 who puts, as it were, into the hand the beginning of 
 the clue, causes him who holds it to follow on the 
 story. On this account we have, — 
 " Sing, muse, the wrath," etc. 
 " The man, O muse, resound," etc. 
 
 " This top declare ; from Asia's coasts afar. 
 How upon Europe burst the mighty war." 
 
 And the tragedians give some insight into the plot of 
 the drama, if not forthwith, as Euripides does, yet 
 they give it some where at least in the opening scene ; 
 just as also does Sophocles; — "Polybus was my fa- 
 ther'!" And comedy in the same way. The most 
 necessary business of the exordium, and this is pecu- 
 liar to it, is to throw some light on the end for the 
 sake of which the speech is made. For which very 
 reason, if this be evident, and the case a brief one, 
 
 3 CEdipus Tyr. 774. 
 
CHAP. XIV.] RHETORIC. 253 
 
 we need not employ an exordium. The other species 7. Other 
 which speakers employ are correctives, and general*: '=^°i'<ii=' 
 these are, however, deduced from 1. the speaker him- tidotc to 
 self; 2. his hearer; 3. the subject; 4. and from the weariness, 
 adversary. Every thing whatsoever which refers to !|„!^J^*'"'' 
 the doing away or the casting an aspersion of charac- ilefota- 
 ter, has a relation to one's self or the adversary. But ^i™ °^ 
 these things are not done exactly in the same way : for \^ ™°Z. 
 by one speaking on a defence, whatever tends to asper- posite re- 
 sion of character should be put first ; but by one who '^^ *" , 
 is laying an accusation, in his peroration. And the er and ad- 
 reason why is not indistinct ; for it is necessary that Tcrsary. 
 one who is making a defence, when he is about to in- ^jTof'^S* 
 troduce himself, should sweep away every stumbling- when 
 block ; so that the prepossession against you must first plaintiff 
 , J -u t • u I, • ...1, or defend- 
 
 be removed : by mm, however, who raises the un- ^^ 
 
 favourable impression, let it be raised in winding up, 
 in order that the judges may the rather recollect it. 
 
 The correctives, however, which refer to the hearer, ii. Ik toU 
 are drawn out of conciliating his good will, and in- '"'p?'''^'"', 
 flaming him with anger, and occasionally from attract- ment of 
 ing his attention, or the reverse ; for it is not at all tl"2 ^em- 
 times convenient to render him attentive, for which tractine 
 reason many endeavour to induce them to laughter, his atten- 
 But all thesewillconducetotractability[on the judge's *^°°' " 
 part], if one wishes it, as does also the showing one's verse." 
 self a person of character ; for to such do people the 
 rather give heed. But men are attentive to objects 
 of importance, of a peculiar description, or deserving 
 admiration, or pleasing. Hence we ought to throw 
 in a hint that the speech is concerning subjects of 
 this nature. But if you would have them not atten- 
 tive, hint that the matter is trifling, concerns them 
 not, or is disgusting. But it ought not to escape our 8. All 
 observation, that the whole of this is foreign to the ^^'L 
 subject ; for they are addressed to a hearer of sorry however 
 
 * ^laTpeu^an-a, a sort of antidotes to ennui and listlessness 
 of the auditory, "which are literally so general {kolvH) as not 
 only to be unlimited to the exordia of either branch of rhetoric, 
 but as to admit of being introduced at will into any part of the 
 speech. See § 9. 
 
254 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 are ex- taste, and one who lends an ear to points foreign to 
 traneoua the Subject ; for if the hearer be not of this character, 
 subject, there is no need of exordium, except so far as to state 
 
 the matter summarily, that, like a body, it may have 
 
 a head. 
 9. Again, the business of exciting attention is common 
 Awaken- j^ j^jj j.jjg divisions of a speech, wherever it may be 
 atfention necessary ; for the audience relax their attention any 
 is com- where rather than at the beginning. For which rea- 
 mon. to all jj. j ridiculous to range this head at the beein- 
 
 parts 01 .11 -1 
 
 a speech, nmg, when more particularly every one is at the 
 summit of attention. So that, whenever it is conve- 
 nient, we may use the formulary, "Lend me your 
 whole attention, for the question does not affect me 
 any more than yourselves ;" and this one, — " for I 
 will relate to you a thing so strange, so wonderful, 
 as you never yet heard." But this is'just what Pro- 
 dicus says he used to do, — " whenever the audience 
 
 10. happen to nod, to insert, by the bye, a display of his 
 penteconta-drachmial demonstration 5." But that 
 these things are referred to the hearer not in his pro- 
 per capacity as such, is evident ; for all create unfa- 
 vourable impressions or do them away in their ex- 
 ordia : as, " king, I confess indeed, that not with 
 haste," etc.^: and again, "Why such long preludes'." 
 
 Those They, too, employ exordia who have, or appear to 
 
 the woret h^^®i t'^^ worse case ; for it is better to pause any 
 side em- where than on the case itself. On which account 
 ploy ex- servants tell not what is asked them, but all the cir- 
 °' ^' cumstances, and make long preambles. 
 
 11. But the means out of which we must conciliate 
 have been stated, and each other point of that na- 
 ture^: and, as it is well remarked by the poet, " Grant 
 that I may reach the Phoeacians a friend and object 
 of their compassion ;" we ought, therefore, to aim at 
 
 ^ Prodicus professed to teach a mode of reasoning with uni- 
 versal success in all descriptions of cases : the premium on 
 initiation being fifty drachms, he called it HevTiiKovTiiSpaxi'iov. 
 Plato in Cratyl. 
 
 « Sophocles, Antig. 223. 
 
 ' Euripides, Iph. in Taur. 1162. 
 
 ' See book ii. chap. 1, § 5. 
 
CHAP. XIV.] KHETORIC. 255 
 
 these two objects. And in demonstrative orations, A compli- 
 you should cause the hearer to suppose that he is ^J^p^f^t^ 
 praised simultaneously with the subject, either in his the audi- 
 own person or his family, or in his maxims of con- ence. 
 duct, or at least somehow or other. For true it is, 
 as Socrates remarks, that "To praise Athenians be- 
 fore an Athenian audience is no difficult thing, how- 
 ever it may be in the presence of Lacedaemonians '." 
 
 But the exordia of deliberative rhetoric are derived Exordia 
 from those of judicial : but this species has them na- Hberltive 
 turally least of all the three ; for indeed the audience oratory 
 are aware of the subject; and the case needs no ex- ■wanted 
 ordium except 1. on account of the speaker himself; four cases. 
 2. or his opponent ; or 3. if the audience conceive of i. Onac- 
 the importance of the matter otherwise, than he could ^jj™* °^. 
 wish, thinking it either too serious or too trifling : er. 
 with a view to which objects respectively there is a ii- On ac- 
 necessity for either exciting or doing away a prejudice, the'ad- 
 or for amplification or diminution. On account of yersary. 
 these things there is need of exordium ; 4. or other- P- To 
 vrise for the sake of ornament ; since without it a aJhearer 
 speech appears hastily got up. Of this sort was the -with the 
 panegyric of Gorgias on the Eleans ; for without any J^^^ °^ 
 thing like the preluding display of gesture and atti- jy. For 
 tude in the Gymnasium, he begins forthwith, — " O the sake 
 Ehs, city blest by fortune!" ^^ZlSt. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Topics for remomng Imputations to your Prejudice. 
 
 Touching the subject of an imputation cast upon 1. Topics 
 you, one means of removing it vnll be the recurring ^p'jfr. '' 
 to those topics, by means of which one might do away siona. 
 
 ' This sentiment has been already quoted, book i. chap. 9, 
 § 30, in illustration of the rule Skottei!/ irap' oh 6 ETrairas. The 
 remark of Socrates may be found in Plato's Menexenus, but 
 diiferently expressed. 
 
255 ARISTOTLE'S [book m. 
 
 i. Re- any surmises prejudicial to him ; for it matters not 
 moTing whether they be entertained in consequence of the 
 able ir''' allegations of any one or not. So that this topic is 
 pressions. universally applicable. 
 
 2. ii. Con- Another mode is, the confronting it like a point 
 tradicting ^jj^gr litigation, [arguing] either that it is not the 
 the point. ^^^^^ ^^ .g ^^^ hurtful, or not to the particular indi- 
 vidual ; or that it is not of such importance, or not 
 unjust, or not considerable, or not disgraceful, or of 
 no consequence ; for in points of this description the 
 question originates : just as Iphicrates argued against 
 Nausicrates ; for he pleaded, that he did what the 
 prosecutor alleged, and indeed hurt him, but yet did 
 not act unjustly. Or confessedly acting unjustly he 
 may offer some equivalent : e. g. though hurtful, yet 
 was it honourable ; though painful, yet viras it bene- 
 ficial ; by some other such expedient. 
 
 3. iii. By Another method is, the arguing that the action is 
 extenua- merely a fault, or an error ', or that it was necessary ; 
 exciise!'^ such as the plea of Socrates, " that he trembled, not 
 
 as the calumniator alleged, that he might appear an 
 old man, but of necessity ; since his eighty years of 
 age did not overtake him of his own choice." And 
 you may attempt a commutation of motives ; e. g. 
 " that he did not wish to hurt, but to do this or that, 
 and not what the accuser insinuated ; but that it so 
 happened that hurt was sustained. But that it were 
 fair enough to hate him, had he acted purposely with 
 a view to this taking place." 
 
 4. iv. By Another mode is, the considering whether the 
 recrimi- prosecutor has either now or formerly, in his own 
 the ac- person, or in that of his connexions, been involved in 
 cuser. the charge. Another, whether others, whom they 
 
 5. T. By themselves acknowledge not liable to the imputation, 
 son with be also comprehended ; for instance, if he acknow- 
 othors. ledge an adulterer to be- exempt from the charge, 
 
 6. Yi. By surely then also is this or that person. Another 
 fn^whe^" consists in ascertaining whether he has cast any false 
 ther the imputations on others ; or whether, like the party in 
 
 * For the distinctions between aV«pT?;/xaTa and aTyxri/JLaTa, 
 see book i. chap. 15, § 16. 
 
CHAP. XV.] RHETORIC. 257 
 
 the present case, any other has calumniated persons, accuser 
 or whether, without direct imputation, any ever were '"^^''^^'^ 
 suspected who have yet appeared innocent. Another, calunmia- 
 in raising a counter prejudice against the calumni- torbefore. 
 ator ; for it is ahsurd, if, while the man is himself rii^'ij a 
 void of credit, his words obtain it. Another, in in- counter 
 quiring whether a decision has been already made; P'^^ay.^"^- 
 just as Euripides did in reply to Hygisenon, who, in ^he affair 
 an action of Antidosis, accused him as being an im- has been 
 pious person, inasmuch as exhorting to perjury he ^^Zi 
 wrote, — " The tongue hath sworn, but the mind is 
 unsworn^;" for Euripides argued, "that by bringing 
 into court the decisions of the Dionysiac contest he 
 acted unjustly; for there he had given, or would 
 give an account, should he wish to impeach him." 
 Another, in impeaching calumny itself, as to how 9. ix. By 
 great an evil it is ; and this because it produces de- ?^<'l'™'- 
 cisions foreign to the point, and that it relies not on against 
 the strength of its case. calumny 
 
 But the citing presumptive signs is atopic common ^^citing 
 to both parties : thus, in the Teucer, Ulysses insinu- the pre- 
 ates that " he is of kin to Priam ; for [his mother] sumptive 
 Hesione was Priam's sister." He, however, replies tome use- 
 on the ground that, " Telamon, his father, was the fiil to 
 enemy of Priam, and that he did not denounce the ^''*''- 
 spies." 
 
 Another, peculiar to an accuser, is, for one after lO- 
 bestowing short praise to censure at great , length, £' fStie 
 putting forward great virtues briefly, or very many to blame 
 [which are not relevant], then to censure in one "JJp''- . 
 point which bears home upon the case. Such me- thbac-"'** 
 thods are the most crafty and malignant ; for they cuser. 
 attempt injury by means of one's virtues, by blend- 
 ing them with a man's failings. 
 
 But it is a resource common to the calumniator ="i- By 
 and one who meets a calumny, that, as it is possible ^e"mo"^ 
 for the same action to have been done from many tives 
 motives, by the calumniator, indeed, facts should be ■which 
 taken in a bad sense, as he makes his .selection of p'^rpose.'^ 
 motives on the worse side ; while by the respondent 
 2 Hippolytus, 612. 
 
 s 
 
258 ARISTOTLE'S [book m. 
 
 it should be made on the better. Take, for instance, 
 the fact that Diomede chose Ulysses : one will say 
 it was, " because he conceived Ulysses to be the 
 bravest ; " the other, that " it was not, but because 
 he alone could not become a rival, such a poltroon 
 was he." 
 
 Thus much, then, on the subject of imputations. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 Of the Narration. 
 
 1. The In demonstrative speeches the narration is not given 
 nan-ation jjj continuity, but in scattered portions ; for one must 
 ticoratory go over the actions out of which the speech arises: 
 is not con- for a speech is a kind of compound, having one por- 
 1'"^^- *i°"> indeed, independent of art, [since the speaker is 
 jointed, not at all the cause of the actions themselves,] and 
 another portion originating in art ; and this last is 
 either the showing that it is fact should it be incredi- 
 ble, or such either in character or degree, or iii show- 
 
 2. ing all these points at once. Owing to this, there are 
 times when one ought not to narrate every fact suc- 
 cessively ; because this mode of exposition is difficult 
 to remember. From some, then, establish the cha- 
 racter for courage, from others for wisdom, and from 
 others for justice. The one style of narration is too 
 simple ; the other has the grace of variety, and is not 
 
 3. so void of elegance. But you have only to awaken 
 the recollection of facts well known ; on' which ac- 
 count, many subjects will stand in no need of narra- 
 tion : supposing, for instance, you would praise 
 Achilles, because all ai-e acquainted with his actions ; 
 but you must employ them at once. But in praising 
 Critias, an orator must narrate ; for not many are 
 acquainted with his exploits. 
 
 4. I" j«- But now people tell us, ridiculously enough, that 
 n^ration ^^^ narration should be rapid. _ And yet I would say,' 
 must as did one to a baker, who inquired " whether he 
 
CHAP. XVI.] RHETORIC. 259 
 
 should knead his bread hard or soft," — " What," make the 
 said he, " is it then impossible to knead it properly ?" siitjeet 
 And so here [in rhetoric a mean is to be observed]. 
 For one should not narrate at too great length, just 
 as he should not make too long an exordium, nor 
 state his proofs [too fully]. For neither in this case 
 does propriety consist either in rapidity or concise- 
 ness, but in a mean betwixt both : and this is the 
 stating just so much as will make the matter clear, 
 or as will cause one to conceive that it has taken 
 place, or that the party has inflicted hurt, or com- 
 mitted injustice, or that the case is of that importance 
 which the speaker wishes to establish ; and to the 
 opposite party the opposite points will avail. And 5. and 
 an orator should narrate, by the bye, such incidents ^idience 
 as conduce to his own excellence : thus, " I all along in favour 
 used to instruct them in what was just, bidding them "f the 
 not to abandon their children," — or, to the villany 
 of the other party ; — " — ^but he replied to me, that 
 wherever he might be he should have other children." 
 Which, Herodotus says, was the reply of the Egyp- 
 tians on their revolting '. Or whatever is pleasing 
 to the judges. 
 
 In the case of a defendant, the matter will be more 6. The 
 brief; the points for dispute being, either that it has anf°nar- 
 not taken place, or is not hurtful, or not unjust, or ration is 
 not of such importance. So that on acknowledged I'^ef; 
 points he need not pause, unless they conduce in 
 some degree to the objects suggested; e. g. if the 
 fact be acknowledged, but its injustice disputed. 
 Moreover, you should mention as already done those 7. 
 things which, in the course of being done, failed of 
 producing pity or horror. The story of Alcinous 
 is an instance, which is despatched to Penelope in 
 sixty verses. And as Phayllus does in the circle, 
 and the opening scene of the CEneus. The narra- 8. and 
 
 tion should also convey a notion of the character : •'^.^ys 
 ,..,,, T .p 1 1 . . anun- 
 
 this will be secured, it we know what gives rise to press of 
 
 the moral character. One source is the manifesta- character. 
 
 tion of deliberate choice ; and of what kind is moral mamfest- 
 
 ' See Herodotus, ii. 30. 
 
 S 2 
 
260 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book III. 
 
 ing moral 
 purpose. 
 
 ii. By nar- 
 ration of 
 the con- 
 comitant 
 circum- 
 stances, 
 iii. By 
 speaking 
 with feel- 
 ing. 
 
 character we ascertain from knowing of what kind 
 this is ; and of what kind the deliberate choice is, 
 from being acquainted with its proposed end. Hence 
 the doctrines of mathematics have no display of cha- 
 racter, for neither have they deliberate choice ; and 
 this for that they have not the influence of motive^: 
 but the Socratic discourses [have this display], for 
 they treat concerning subjects of this kind. But 
 those things convey a notion of character, which is 
 consequent upon the several characters'; e. g. 
 " Whibt saying this he began to hasten off;" for 
 this manifests a hardihood and rusticity of character. 
 And be cautious not to speak coldly as from the un- 
 derstanding merely, as orators do now-a-days, but 
 as though from the deliberate choice *. " I, for I 
 wished and deliberately preferred this ; and if I pro- 
 fit nothing by it, then it is the more honourable :'' 
 for the one is characteristic of a prudent^, the other 
 of a good man : since [the proposed end] of the pru- 
 dent consists in pursuing the expedient ; of a good 
 man, in pursuing what is honourable. And should 
 any circumstance be incredible, you must subjoin the 
 reason ; as Sophocles does. He furnishes an exam- 
 ple in the Antigone, that she mourned more for her 
 brother than for a husband or children ; for these, if 
 lost, might again be hers. 
 
 " But father now and mother both being lost, 
 A brother's name can ne'er be haii'd again*." 
 
 ^ See the next chapter, § 8. 
 
 ■* Using, in fact, the ar}/itiov of the action as an evidence of 
 the thought, or taking the result of the feeling for the feeling 
 itself ; as Pericles does when alluding to the morose looks of 
 the Lacedajmonians, a process which, though ingenious, yet 
 often leads to a fallacy. 
 
 * Which is will regulated by the understanding. See Nich. 
 Eth. book iii. chap. 2, 3, etc. 
 
 ^ That is, the prudent speak from the dictates of the under- 
 standing solely, the good on the impulse of deliberate choice. 
 
 ° Sophocles, Antigone, 911. See the speech of the wife of 
 Intaphemes to Darius, on asking the life of a brother in pre- 
 ference to those of her husband or children: — ^Q PairtXsu, du^p 
 /4£l/ fiOL av aWo^ yii/oiTO, tl datuiov E6eA.0£, Kal TiKva aWa, ii 
 VoDxa aTro^aXoLfxC iraTpdi Sk Kal jujjTpdff oi/K etc yueO ZutovTtaV, 
 
 d6E\(j>£d^ &v aWos ov&tvl Tp6Trw yivoiTo. Herodotus Thalia 
 
CHAP. XVI.] RHETORIC. 261 
 
 But if you should have no reason to offer, then avow 
 "that you are well aware that you speak what ex- 
 ceeds belief, but that such is your nature :" for the 
 world discredit a man's doing any thing voluntarily, 
 except what is expedient. 
 
 Again, draw your remarks out of those things 10- Let 
 which are indicative of the passions ; narrating both ratim be 
 their attendant circumstances, and those which the ■waS-nn- 
 audience know, and which attach peculiarly either to ""< 
 the speaker himself or his adversary : — " He, having 
 scowled at me, departed." And as ^schines said 
 of Cratylus, " that whistling and snapping his fin- 
 gers — :" for they have a tendency to persuade : 
 therefore these things which they know, become 
 indices of that which they do not know. Such in- 
 stances one may get in abundance out of Homer : — 
 "Thus Penelope spoke, and the old woman covered 
 her face with her hands':" for those who are begin- 
 ning to shed tears cover their eyes. And forthwith and^fliKi?. 
 insinuate yourself as a person of a certain character, 
 in order that they may look upon you as one of 
 such a description, and your adversary [as the re- 
 verse] : but beware oF observation as you do it. And 
 that it is easy to effect this we may observe in those 
 who report any thing to us ; for respecting the com- 
 munication (of which as yet we know nothing), we 
 
 cap. 119. See flie reply of Robert Duke of Normandy to 
 William Rufus, justifying himself for allowing him to get water 
 during the siege at Mont St. Michael :— " How am I to blame ? 
 should I have suffered our brother to die of thirst, what other 
 have we if we had lost him ? " Lord Lyttleton, vol. i. p. 111. 
 Compare the words of Edward I. on hearing at the same time 
 of the death of his father and infant son, " fliat the death of a 
 son was a loss which he might hope to repair ; the death of a 
 father was a loss irreparable." Hume. And the lines quoted 
 in " the Antiquary," vol. iii. chap. 11 : — 
 
 He turned him right and round again, 
 Said, Scorn na at my mither; 
 Light loves I may get mony a ane, 
 But minnie ne'er anither. 
 
 ' Odyssey, book xix. 361. 
 
262 ARISTOTLE'S [book hi. 
 
 Still catch a kind of guess s. But the narration must 
 be carried on in different parts, and, in some in- 
 stances, even at the commencement. 
 11. Nar- But in deliberative speeches narration occurs least 
 leiSt used °^ ^^^' Ijecause no one narrates respecting what is yet 
 in de- to be : if, however, there should be any narration, it 
 liberative -^[W jjg respecting things which have already happen- 
 oia 017. g^^ ^j^^^ ^j^g recollection of them having been awak- 
 ened, the judges may determine better on the future ; 
 the orator either reprehending or praising them : but 
 he is not then performing the functions proper to him 
 as an adviser. If, however, the thing narrated be 
 incredible, see you promise to state a reason for it 
 immediately^, and to submit it to whom they please : 
 like the Jocasta of Carcinus in his QSdipus, who al- 
 ways keeps promising when he who was seeking out 
 her son inquires of her: and the Haemon of So- 
 phocles '". 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 Of the Proof, 
 
 1. Proof Proof should be demonstrative ; and the points of 
 oratory'^ dispute being four, you must demonstrate by pro- 
 four ducing proof respecting the particular point a't issue : 
 P^jj??' thus, if the adversary question the fact, you must at 
 fact. ^ *^® ^^''^^ produce proof of this point above the rest ; 
 ii. The should it be that he did no harm, then of that point ; 
 imscluef. and so should he urge that the action is not of the 
 degiee. importance supposed, or that it was done justlt/: [and 
 it must be done in the latter cases] exactly in the 
 same way as if the inquiry were respecting the mat- 
 
 ' See tlie Traohinise of Sophocles, verse 869, where part of 
 the Chorus conjecture, from the dejected looks of the nurse as 
 she approaches, that some calamity is about to be announced. 
 
 ' An instance of this occurs in the statement of finance 
 which Pericles, laid before the Athenians, to substantiate the 
 hopes which he had held out to them. Thucyd. ii. 13. 
 
 1" See the Antigone, 635, etc. 
 
CHAP. XVII.] RHETORIC. 263 
 
 ter of fact. And let it not escape us that in this sin- 2. It. The 
 gle inquiry, it must needs be that one party is guilty ' : ^^^^^^^ 
 for it is not ignorance which is to blame, as though of the 
 any were to dispute on a point of justice. So that, action, 
 in this inquiry, the circumstance should be employed ; 
 but not in the other [three]. 
 
 But, in demonstrative rhetoric, amplification, for In epi- 
 the most part, will constitute the proof, because the ™of°s * 
 facts are honourable and useful ; for the actions made by 
 should be taken on credit*, since, even on these sub- amplifica- 
 jects, a speaker on very rare occasions does adduce 
 proof, if either the action be passing belief, or if an- 
 other have the credit of it'. 
 
 But, in deliberative speeches, the orator may either 4. In de- 
 contemi that the circumstances will not take place, or ^^^^^ 
 that what he directs will indeed take place, but that observe 
 it is not just, or not beneficial, or not in such a degree, tl^e falla- 
 And it will be well for him to observe whether any ^^ersa- * 
 falsehood appears in the extraneous observations of 17, for 
 his adversary ; for these appear as so many con- ^^^^ "* 
 vincing proofs, that he is false in the case of the other oiu-^roof. 
 more important statements. 
 
 And example is best adapted to deliberative rhe- 5. Exam- 
 toric ; while enthymem is more peculiar to iudicial''. P'?^^^' 
 For the former is relative to the future ; so that out it. 
 of what has been heretofore, we needs must adduce 
 examples : the latter respects what is or is not mat- 
 ter of fact, to which belong more especially demon- 
 stration and necessity ; for the circumstances of the 
 past involve a necessity. The speaker ought not, 6. How 
 however, to bring forward his enthymems in a con- ™*^^"„e 
 tinned series, but to blend them by the way ; should tobensed. 
 
 he not do this, they prove an injury one to the other. Not in a 
 
 series. 
 
 ' He states the same doctrine in the Nich. Eth. v. 2 : — 
 ov yap worTTEp iv Tois ffvvaWdyfjLaaL iTEpl tov yiyvtcQai d/ji<pnr- 
 ^ijTouiriv wv dvdyKTj tov tTtpov tlvai fioxOvpov dv fii] Std XijOrjv 
 avTO Sputfriv, K. t. X, 
 
 ^ " For the facts are taken for granted ; so that it only re- 
 mains to invest them -with grandeur." Book i. chap. 9, | 40. 
 
 ' Victorius notices the use of the phrase alriav tx^iv in a 
 good sense. 
 
 * He asserts this, and assigns the reason, at the end of his 
 consideration of demonstrative rhetoric, book i. c. 9, § 40. 
 
264 ARISTOTLE'S Ibook hi. 
 
 for there is some limit on the score of quantity too : — 
 " Oh friend, since you have spoken just so much as a 
 prudent man would'*;" but the poet does not say, of 
 
 7. Nor on such ffl quality. Neither should you seek after en- 
 jll^*' thymems on every subject ; otherwise you will be 
 
 doing the very thing which some philosophers do, 
 who infer syllogistically conclusions in themselves 
 better known, and more readily commanding belief, 
 than the premises out of which they deduce them. 
 
 8. Nor to And when you would excite any passion, do not em- 
 excite any pj^- ^^ enthvmem ; for either it will expel the pas- 
 
 61110 LlOIlS !■•'*'' '• '■ 
 
 or pas- sion, or the enthymem will be uttered to no purpose ; 
 
 sions. for the emotions which happen at the same time expel 
 each other, and either cancel or render one or the 
 other feeble. Neither when one aims at speaking 
 with the effect of character, ought he at all to aim 
 at the same time at enthymem ; for demonstration 
 possesses neither an air of character, nor deliberate 
 
 9. But choice. But a speaker should employ maxims alike 
 maxiins jj^ narration and in proof : for it has an expression 
 used in of character : — " Yes ; I delivered it, even knowing 
 the proof that one ought never to repose implicit conjidence." 
 ration*'" -^^^ *^ °"® speak with a view to excite passion : — 
 
 "And injured though I be, yet I do not repent; 
 for the gain, indeed, is on his side, but justice on 
 mine." 
 
 10. Rea- And deliberative is more difficult than judicial 
 sons why jiietoric, and probably enough, — because it respects 
 tive is l^he future ; whereas, in the latter, the question is 
 more dif- respecting the past, which has already become matter 
 iudlcial " °^ absolute science, even to diviners, as Epimenides 
 oratoi-y. the Cretan used .to say ; for he did not exercise his 
 \ ^\^ °" ^* * ^^ divination respecting things yet to be, but 
 t„jg " respecting those which had already happened indeed, 
 ii. Judi- but which were obscure : again, in judicial questions, 
 
 ° The words of Menelaus to Pisistratus, the son of Nestor. 
 Odyssey, lib. iv. 204. The force of the illustration here seems 
 to be this : the poet, no less than the philosopher, thought it 
 no small praise to know when to stop; so that, without allusion 
 to the prudence of what had been said, (to the category of 
 quality, ToiauTa,) he commends him merely on the score of its 
 due quantity. 
 
CHAP. XVII.] RHETORIC. 265 
 
 there is the law as the basis of reasonings ; but for ciai ora- 
 one who has something wherewith to begin, it is t<"T has 
 easier to discover means of proof. Neither has [de- i,asis, 
 liherative rhetoric] many opportunities of digression ; iii. The 
 none, for instance, in reference to an adversary, or delibera- 
 respecting one's self, or in order to excite passion*; tor cannot 
 but it possesses these opportunities least of aU the di^ess so 
 three branches, unless it depart from its proper pro- ^^ ''■ 
 vince. If, then, you are at a loss, you should do 
 what the rhetoricians at Athens do, and particularly 
 Isocrates ; for in the course of deliberative speaking 
 he accuses the Lacedaemonians, for instance, in the 
 panegyric, and Chares in the speech about the alli- 
 ance. But in demonstrative speaking, you should 11. 
 insert praise in the speech by way of episode, as Iso- 
 crates does, for he all along keeps introducing some- 
 thing. And that saying of Gorgias, " That he never 
 failed of something to say," is nothing more nor less 
 than this : for if he be speaking of Achilles, he 
 praises Peleus, then JEacus, then his goddess mother, 
 and so, too, valour in the abstract ; or he does some- 
 thing or another in this strain. 
 
 Now the language of one who possesses proof, 12. Ifyou 
 should be both fraught with the impress of cliarac- 1^^^ ^°' 
 ter, and fitted to convey the proof. But if you pos- speak 
 sess not enthymems, let it convey an impression of ^Sikuk 
 your character ; and the show of goodness more befits ^ "'^''' 
 
 ■' . , ^ 1 OEiKTt- 
 
 a virtuous man, than accuracy oi speech. kms. 
 
 But of enthymems the refutative are more ap- J^5fl*'°°' 
 proved than the confirmative'^: because in the case i^. Refo- 
 of as many as produce reductio ad absurdum, it is tative en 
 more plain that a conclusion has really been arrived thymems 
 at ; for opposites, when set by each other, are more than con- 
 clearly recognised. firmative. 
 
 " Now, according to the early part of this work, all this is 
 done easily enough in judicial cases, since there the judge has 
 no personal interest, and easily resigns himself to the speaker ; 
 but in deliberative rhetoric, every one addressed is supposed, 
 more or less, to have an interest in the question at issue, and 
 is therefore more jealous of the speaker's artifice. Book i. c. 
 ], § 10. 
 
 ' See book ii. chap. 23, § 30. 
 
266 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book III. 
 
 U. Mode 
 of reply- 
 ing to our 
 adver- 
 sary. 
 
 The fii-st 
 speaker 
 must give 
 his proofs 
 and an- 
 ticipate 
 objec- 
 tions. 
 
 15. The 
 
 er must 
 refute the 
 adver- 
 sary's ar- 
 guments, 
 and draw 
 opposite 
 infer- 
 ences. 
 The rea- 
 son why. 
 
 Touching reasonings directed against the adver- 
 sary, they are not in any thing different in species ; 
 but it belongs to the province of proof to do away 
 his arguments, some by starting an objection, others 
 by contrary inference s. And the speaker who be- 
 gins, ought, both in deliberative and judicial rhetoric, 
 first to state his own proofs ; and subsequently to meet 
 objections by doing them away, or by treating them 
 with contempt beforehand. But should the points 
 objected to be many, first he must confront the objec- 
 tions, as did Callistratus in the Messeniac assembly ; 
 for previously having swept away what his adver- 
 saries would be likely to allege in this way, he then 
 spoke on his own part. But the last speaker should 
 speak first what makes against the adversary's speech, 
 doing it away, and drawing opposite inferences ; and 
 particularly should his arguments have been well 
 received. For just as one's mind does not cordially 
 receive a person on whom a slur has been previously 
 cast ; in the same way neither does it favourably listen 
 to a speech, if the opposite speaker appear to have 
 spoken truly. It is necessary, then, to gain a footing 
 in the hearer's mind for the intended speech ; and it 
 will be gained if you sweep away objections : where- 
 fore a speaker, having combated either all, or the 
 most important, or the most approved arguments of 
 his adversary, or those which readily admit a con- 
 trary inference, is in this way to substantiate hia 
 own case : — 
 
 " The fame o' th' Goddesses I '11 first defend, — 
 
 16. Cha- 
 racter of 
 
 For Juno and '." 
 
 In this she first lays hold of the most silly point. — 
 Thus much, then, of proof. 
 
 But as to the effect of character, since the saying 
 
 ° Compare book ii. chap. 25, § 1, 2. 
 
 " See the Troades of Euripides, 969, where Hecuba, reply- 
 ing to the defence made by Helen, lays hold of that part of it 
 which seemed to insinuate that the three goddesses had been 
 
 instrumental to her abandonment of her husband ; a point- 
 
 which, it will readily be perceived, was E'Y'EAErKTON. 
 
268 ARISTOTLE'S [book in. 
 
 he said he did, [Pericles subjoined,] "And how do 
 you know who are uninitiated ? " 
 
 2. Next to this is the crisis, when [of two points] 
 ii. When oj,g jg dgar, and it is manifest to the party putting 
 cMon™' the question, that his adversary will concede the 
 will be other ; for one ought, after having ascertained by 
 establish- juquiry the one proposition, not to interrogate fur- 
 ther respecting the point which is clear, but state 
 the conclusion. Just as Socrates, when Meletus 
 denied that he believed in the gods, asked " Wliether 
 he asserted the being of any demon ? " When he al- 
 lowed that he had, Socrates asked, "Whether these 
 demons were not either sons of the gods, or some- 
 thing of divine nature?" And when he allowed it, 
 " Is there, then," said he, " one who thinks that sons 
 of the gods exist, and not the gods themselves ? " 
 
 3. Again, when one is likely to exhibit the adversary 
 the oppo" ^® speaking contradictions, or somewhat revolting to 
 nentnmst general opinion. 
 
 contradict Fourthly, when he may not be able to rid himself 
 '4 of the question otherwise than by a sophistical an- 
 iv. WTien swer : for if he answer in this way, that it is, and is 
 rVo'^™^ wo^, or partly is, and partly is not, — or, one way it 
 nent to w> another way is not; the hearers hoot him off, be- 
 sophisti- ing at a loss for his meaning: 
 
 swere* Under any other circumstances do not attempt in- 
 
 Caution terrogation ; for should the party interrogated start 
 as torn- ajj objection to the question, you appear to have 
 tions^^ been overcome : since it is not possible to put many 
 
 questions by reason of the imbecility of the hearer. 
 
 On which account we ought, as much as possible, to 
 
 compress even our enthymems. 
 5. How But one must give his answers to equivocal ques- 
 arieoui^o- *^°"* with a distinction ', and not concisely ; and to 
 cal ques- what seems a contradiction, by directly offering an 
 tion. explanation in the reply, before the interrogator can 
 tinctwn. ' ?•** *^^ °^^t succeeding question, or draw the in- 
 ii. By an- ference he aims at ; for it is no difficult thing to 
 ticipation. 
 
 ' See the answer of our Saviour to the captious question of 
 
 the Pharisees, — " What thinkest thou ? Is it lawful to give 
 
 tribute unto Caesar, or not?" Matt. xxii. 17 — 22. 
 
CHAP. XVIII.] KHETORIC. 269 
 
 foresee on what the speech turns. Be this, however, 
 and the means of answering, clear to us from the 
 Topics. And as to a party drawing his conclusion, 6. iii. By 
 if his question produce that conclusion, you are to y^n*"^ 
 assign the cause : as Sophocles, when questioned by 
 Pisander, "Whether it had been his opinion, as it 
 had of the other commissioners, to establish the four 
 hundred," acknowledged that it had. — "But how," 
 rejoined the other, " seemed it not to you to be 
 wrong ? " He said it did. " Did you not, then, do 
 that which was wrong?" "Yes, forsooth," replied 
 he, " for 1 had no better alternative." And as the 
 Lacedsemonian, when called to an account respecting 
 his ephorship, on having the question put, " Whether 
 the rest appeared to him to have perislied justly," 
 said they did. " Then," retorted the other, " did you 
 not enact the same things as they ? " And when he 
 acknowledged that he had, "Would not you also," 
 asked the other, "justly perish?" "No, indeed," 
 said he, " for they did this on a bribe ; I did not, but 
 merely from judgment." Wherefore one ought not No ques- 
 after the conclusion to put a further question, nor to tionto be 
 put, interrogatively, the conclusion itself, unless the the con- 
 truth lies abundantly on our side. elusion. 
 But with respect to Ridicule, inasmuch as it seems 7. Ridi- 
 to possess a kind of use in disputation 2, and as "one J"|^' ^°"^ 
 ought," says Gorgias, " to mar the grave earnestness 
 of our adversary by ridicule, and his ridicule by sober 
 earnestness," making the remark justly enough, — it 
 has been stated in the Poetic' how many species of 
 ridicule there are; whereof, some befit the gentle- 
 man, others do not : so that each must see to it that 
 he take that which befits himself. But the playing 
 a man oif is more gentlemanly than buffoonery ; for 
 the former produces the ridicule for his own sake, 
 the buffoon for that of another. 
 
 ' " Eidiculum acri 
 
 Fortius et melius plerumque secat res." HoR. Sat. i. 10, 14. 
 
 ^ See book i. chap. 11, § 29. 
 
270 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [book hi, 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 1. Pero- 
 ration 
 consists of 
 four 
 things. 
 
 i. We 
 must in- 
 cline the 
 hearers 
 favour- 
 ably. 
 
 2. ii. We 
 must am- 
 plify and 
 diminish. 
 
 3. iii. We 
 must ex- 
 cite the 
 hearers. 
 
 •1. iv. We 
 must 
 awaken 
 the me- 
 mory. 
 
 Of the Peroration. 
 
 The peroration is composed of four things : — of get- 
 ting the hearer favourable to one's self, and ill-dis- 
 posed towards the adversary ; and of amplification 
 and extenuation ; and of placing the hearer under the , 
 influence of the passions ; and of awakening his re- 
 collection. 
 
 For after showing yourself to be on the right side, 
 and your adversary on the wrong, it naturally follows 
 to praise and blame, and to give the last finish. And 
 one of two things the speaker ought to aim at, either 
 to show that he is good relatively to them, [the audi- 
 ence,] or is so absolutely ; and that the other party 
 is bad, either relatively to them, or absolutely. And 
 the elements, out of which one ought to get up per- 
 sons as of such characters, have been stated ; both 
 whence one should establish them as bad, and whence 
 as good. Next to this, these points having been 
 already shown, it follows naturally to amplify or 
 diminish : for the facts must needs be acknowledged, 
 if one be about to state their quantity ; for the in- 
 crease of bodies is from substances previously exist- 
 ing. But the elements, out of which one must 
 amplify and diminish, are above set forth. 
 
 Next to this, the facts being clear both as to their 
 nature and degree, it follows that we excite the 
 hearer to passion ; such as are, pity, terror, anger, 
 hatred, envy, emulation, and contentiousness : the 
 elements of these also have been stated above. 
 
 So that it merely remains to awaken a recollection 
 of what has been before stated. And this we are to 
 do here, in the way in which some erroneous teach- 
 ers say we should in the exordium : for in order that 
 the facts may be readily perceived, they bid us state 
 them frequently. Now there [in the exordium] in- 
 deed we ought to state the case at full, in order that 
 it may not be unknown to the hearer upon what the 
 
CHAP. XIX.] RHETORIC. '271 
 
 trial turns ; here, however, [in tlie peroration,] 
 merely the means by which it has been proved, and 
 that summarily. 
 
 The commencement of the peroration will be, that 5. The 
 
 one has made good what he undertook ; so that it will P^''*"'"" 
 
 o tion must 
 
 be to be stated, as well what one has adduced, as for assert that 
 what reasons. And it is expressed either by means tli^ o^a- 
 of a juxtaposition with the adversary's statements; proved 
 and draw the comparison either between every point his point. 
 whatsoever, which both have stated relative to the -^^ ™"^^ 
 same thing ; or else not by a direct opposition. "He, j^g £.„„. 
 indeed, on this subject said so and so ; but I so and ments 
 so, and for such reasons." Or, by a kind of banter- '^itljthose 
 ing: thus, "He said so and so, and I so and so." ponent, 
 And, " What would he do, had he proved this, and either 
 not the other point ! " Or by interrogation : — "What ^ htl^-^' 
 has not been fully proved on my side ? " or, " What tcrroga- 
 has this man established ? " Either in this way, *'""■ 
 then, must the speaker conclude, or he must, in 
 natural order, so state his reasoning as it was origin- 
 ally stated ; and, again, if he pleases, he may state 
 distinctly that of the adversary's speech. And, for 6, The 
 the close, the style without connectives is becoming, 73°™** 
 in order that it may be a peroration, not an oration ' : suitable 
 I have spoken, — you have heard, — the case is in totheper- 
 your hands, — pronounce your decision ^. °'^ °"' 
 
 ■ See the conclusion of Lysias' oration against Eratosthenes. 
 
 * It cannot fail of being observed ho"w neatly Aristotle em- 
 ploys this his concluding chapter, as at once an illustration of 
 tlie subject and a farewell to the reader. 
 
A BRIEF 
 
 AET OF EHETOEICK; 
 
 CONTAINIHG IK StTBSTAUCE AIL THAT ARISTOTLE HATH \VEITTEN 
 IK HIS THREE BOOKS ON THAT SUBJECT. 
 
 THOMAS HOBBES, 
 
 OF MALMSBURT. 
 
 EEPEINTED FROM THE EDITION FEINTED AT LONDON IN 1681. 
 
A BHIEF 
 
 ART OF RHETORICK. 
 
 THOMAS HOBBES. 
 
 BOOK I.— CHAP. I. 
 
 That Rhetorich is an Art consisting not only in moving 
 
 the Passions of the Judge ; hut chiefly in Proofs. 
 
 And that this Art is Profitable. 
 
 We see that all men naturally are able in some sort to accuse 
 and excuse: some by chance; but some by inethod. This 
 method may be discovered : and to discover Method is all one 
 with teaching an Art. If this Art consisted in Criminations 
 only, and the skill to stir up the Judges, Anger, Envy, Fear, 
 Pity, or other affections; a Rhetorician in well ordered Com- 
 monwealths and States, where it is forbidden to digress from 
 the cause in hearing, could have nothing at all to say. For 
 all these perversions of the Judge' are beside the question. 
 And that which the pleader is to shew, and the Judge to give 
 sentence on, is this only : ' Tis so : or not so. Tlie rest hath 
 been decided already by the Law-maker ; who judging of uni- 
 versals, and future things, could not be corrupted. Besides, 
 'tis an absurd thing, for a man to make crooked the Kuler he 
 means to use. 
 
 It consisteth therefore chiefly in Proofs ; which are Infer- 
 ences : and all Inferences being Syllogismes, a Logician, if he 
 
 T 2 
 
276 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 would observe the difference between a plain Syllogisme, and 
 an Enthymeme, (which is a Rhetoricall Syllogisme,) would 
 make the best Rhetorician. For all Syllogismes and Inferences 
 belong properly to Logick; whether they infer truth or pro- 
 bability : and because without this Art it would often come to 
 pass, that evil men by the advantage of natural abilities, would 
 carry an evil cause ^.gainst a good ; it brings with it at least 
 this profit, that making the pleaders even in skill, it leaves 
 the odds only in the merit of the cause. Besides, ordinarily 
 those that are Judges, are neither patient, nor capable of long 
 Scientifical proofs, drawn from the principles through many 
 Syllogismes; and therefore had need to be instructed by the 
 Rhetoricall, and shorter way. Lastly, it were ridiculous, to 
 be ashamed of being vanquished in exercises of the body, and 
 not to be ashamed of being inferior in the vertue of well ex- 
 pressing the mind. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 The Deflnition of Shetorich. 
 
 Rhetoeick, is that Faculty, by which we understand what 
 will serve our turn, concerning any Subject to win belief in 
 the hearer. 
 
 Of those things that beget belief ; some require not the help 
 of Art ; as Witnesses, Evidences, and the like, which we in- 
 vent not, but make use of; and some require Art, and are in- 
 vented by us. 
 
 The belief that proceeds from our Invention, comes partly 
 from the behaviour of the speaker ; partly from the passions 
 of the hearer : but especially from the proofs of what we 
 alledge. 
 
 Proofs are, in Rhetorick, either Examples, or Enthymemes, 
 as in Logick, Inductions, or Syllogismes. For an Example 
 is a short Induction, and an Enthymeme a short Syllogisme; 
 out of which are left as superfluous, that which is supposed 
 to be necessarily understood by the hearer ; to avoid pro- 
 lixity, and not to consume the time of publick business need- 
 lessly '. 
 
 ' And it might be added, in order to gratify the pride of the auditor 
 by leaving it to him to supply the deficiency. 
 
CHAP. III.] ART OF RHETORICK. 277 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of the several kinds of Orations : and of the Principles of Xhetorick. 
 
 In all Orations, the Hearer does either hear only ; or judge also. 
 
 If he hear only, that's one kind of Oration, and is called De- 
 monstrative. 
 
 If he judge, he must judge either of that which is to come; 
 or of that which is past. 
 
 If of that which is to come, there's another kind of Oration, 
 and is called Deliberative. 
 
 If of that which is past ; then 'tis a third kind of Oration, 
 called Judicial. 
 
 So there are throe kinds of Orations ; Demonstrative, Ju- 
 dicial, Deliberative. 
 
 To which belong their proper times. To the Demonstra- 
 tive, the Present; To the Judicial, the Past ; and to the De- 
 liberative, the time to come. 
 
 And their proper Offices. To the Deliberative, Exltorta- 
 tion and Dehortation. To the Judicial, Accusation and De- 
 fence. And to the Demonstrative, Praising and Dispraising. 
 
 And their proper ends. To the Deliberative, to Prove a 
 thing Profitable, or Unprofitable. To the Judicial, Just, or Un- 
 just. To the Demonstrative, Honourable, or Dishonourable. 
 
 The Principles of Rhetorick out of which Enthymemes are 
 to be drawn ; are the common Opinions that men have con- 
 cerning Profitable, and Unprofitable; Just, and Unjust; 
 Honourable, and Dishonourable; which are the points in the 
 several kinds of Orations questionable. For as in Logick, where 
 certain and infallible knowledge is the scope of our proof, the 
 Principles must be all infallible Truths : so in Rhetorick the 
 Principles must be common Opinions, such as the Judge is 
 already possessed with : because the end of Rhetorick is vic- 
 tory ; which consists in having gotten Belief. - 
 
 And because nothing is Profitable, Unprofitable, Just, Un- 
 just, Honourable, or Dishonourable, but what has been done, 
 or is to be done; and nothing is to be done, that is not possible: 
 and because there be degrees of Profitable, Unprofitable, Just, 
 Unjust, Honourable, and Dishonourable ; an Orator must be 
 ready in other Principles ; namely, of what is done and not 
 
278 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 done; possible and not possible; to come and not to come; and 
 what is Greater, and what is Lesser; both in general, and 
 particularly applyed to the thing in question ; as what is more 
 and less, generally ; and what is more profitable, and less pro- 
 fitable, etc. particularly. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of the Subject of Deliberatives ; and the Abilities that are required 
 of him that loill deliberate of Business of State, 
 
 In Deliberatives there are to be considered the Subject, where- 
 in, and the Ends whereto the Orator exhorteth, or from which 
 he dehorteth. 
 
 The Subject is always something in our own power, the 
 knowledge whereof belongs not to Rhetorick, but for the most 
 part to the Politicks ; and may be referred in a manner to 
 these five heads. 
 
 1 . Of levying of Money. To which point he that will speak 
 as he ought to do, ought t6 know before-hand, the revenue of 
 the State, how much it is, and wherein it consisteth ; and also 
 how great are the necessary charges and expences of the same. 
 This knowledge is gotten partly by a man's own experience, 
 partly by relations, and accounts in writing. 
 
 2. Of Peace and War^ Concerning which the Counsellor 
 or Dehberator, ought to know the strength of the Common- 
 wealth ; how much it both now is, and hereafter may be : and 
 wherein that power consisteth. Which knowledge is gotten, 
 partly by experience, and relations at home ; and partly by the 
 sight of wars, and of their events abroad. 
 
 3. Of the Safeguard of the Country. ' Wherein he only is 
 able to give counsell, that knows the forms, and number, and 
 places of the Garrisons. 
 
 4. Of Provision. Wherein to speak well, it is necessary 
 for a man to know what is sufficient to maintain the State ; 
 what Commodities they have at home growing ; what they 
 must fetch in through need ; and what they may carry out 
 through abundance. 
 
 5. Of making Laws. To which is necessary so much Po- 
 litical, or Civil Philosophy, as to know what are the several 
 kinds of Governments ; and by what means, either from with- 
 
CHAP, v.] ART OF RHETORICK. 279 
 
 out or from within, each of those kinds is preserved, or de- 
 stroyed. And this knowledge is gotten, partly by observing 
 the several Govei'nments in times past, by History ; and part- 
 ly by observing the Government of the times present in se- 
 veral Nations, by Travel. 
 
 So that to him that will speak in a Councell of State, there 
 is necessary this ; History, Sight of Wars, Travel, Know- 
 ledge of the Revenue, JExpences, Forces, Havens, Garrisons, 
 Wares, and Provisions in the State he lives in ; and what is 
 needful for that State, either to export or import. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Of the Ends which the Orator in Deliberatives, propoundeth, whereby 
 to exhort, or deho?'t. 
 
 An Orator in Exhorting always propoundeth Felicity, or some 
 part of Felicity to be attained by the actions he exhorteth unto : 
 and in Dehortation the contrary. 
 
 By Felicity, is meant commonly, Prosperity with vertue, or 
 a continual content of the life with surety. And the parts of 
 it are such things as we call good, in body, mind, or fortune ; 
 such as these that follow. 
 
 1. Nobility. Which to a State or Nation is, to have been 
 antient inhabitants ; and to have had most antiently, and in 
 most number, famous Generals in the Wars, or men famous 
 for such things as fall under emulation. And to a private man, 
 to have been descended lawfully of a Family, which hath yielded 
 most antiently, and in most number, men hnown to the World 
 for vertue, riches, or any thing in general estimation. 
 
 . 2. Many and good Children. Which is also publick and 
 private. Publick, when there is much youth in the State en- 
 dued toith vertue, (namely, of the body, stature, beauty, strength, 
 and dexterity : Of the mind, valour, and temperance). Pri- 
 vate, when a man hath many such Children, both Male and 
 Female. The vertues commonly respected in Women, are of 
 the body. Beauty, and Stature ; Of the mind, Temperance, and 
 Houswifery, without Sordidness. 
 
 3. Riches. Which is. Money, Cattel, Lands, Houshold- 
 stuffe ; with the power to dispose of them. 
 
 4. Glory. Which is, the reputation of Vertue, or of the 
 
280 HOBBES' BPJEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 possession of such things as all, or most men, or wise men 
 desire. 
 
 5. Honour. Which is, the glory of benefiting, or being able 
 to benefit others. To benefit others, is to contribute somewhat, 
 not easily had, to another maris safety, or riches. The parts 
 of Honour are, Sacrifices, Monuments, Rewards, Dedication 
 of places. Precedence, Sepulchres, Statues, publiek Pensions, 
 Adorations, Presents. 
 
 6. Health. Which is the being free from Diseases, with 
 strength to use the body. 
 
 7. Beauty. Which is to different Ages different. To 
 Yoitth, strength of body, and sweetness of aspect. To Fidl 
 Men, strength of body fit for the Wars, and Countenance sweet, 
 with a mixture of Terror. To Old Men, strength ei(ioughfor 
 necessary labours, with a Countenance not displeasing. 
 
 8. Strength. Which is the ability to move any thing at 
 pleasure of the Mover. To move, is to pull, to put off", to lift, 
 to thrust down, to press together. 
 
 9. Stature. Which is then just, when a man in height, 
 breadth, and thickness of body doth so exceed the most, as ne- 
 vertheless it be no hindrance to the quickness of his motion. 
 
 10. Good old Age. Which is, that which comes late, and 
 with the least trouble. 
 
 1 1. Many and good Friends. Which is, to have many that 
 will do for his sake that which they think will be for his good. 
 
 12. Prosperity. Which is, to have all, or the most, or the 
 greatest of those goods which roe attribute to Fortune. 
 
 13. Vertue. Which is then to be defined, when we speak 
 of Praise. 
 
 These are the grounds from whence we exhort. 
 Dehortation is from the contraries of these. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of the Colours or common Opinions concerning Good and Evil. 
 
 In Deliberatives, the Principles, or Elements from whence we 
 draw our Proofs, are common Opinions concerning Good and 
 Evil. And these Principles are either Absolute, or Com- 
 parative. And those that are Absolute, are either Disputable, 
 or Indisputable. 
 
CHAP. VI.] ART OF RHETORICK. 281 
 
 The Indisputable Principles are such as these : 
 
 Good, is that which we love for it self. 
 
 And that, for which we love somewhat else. 
 
 And that which all things desire. 
 
 And that to every man which his reason dictates. 
 
 And that, which when we have, we are well, or satisfied. 
 
 And that which satisfies. 
 
 And the Cause or EiFect of any of theses 
 
 And that which preserves any of these. 
 
 And that which keeps off, or destroys the contrary of any 
 of these. 
 
 Also to take the Good, and reject the Evil, is Good. 
 
 And to take the greater Good, rather than the less ; and 
 the lesser Evil, rather than the greater. 
 
 Further, all Vertues are Good. 
 
 And Pleasure. 
 
 And all things Beautiful. 
 
 And Justice, Valour, Temperance, Magnanimity, Magnifi- 
 cence ; and other like Habits. 
 
 And Health, Beauty, Strength, etc. 
 
 And Riches. 
 
 And Friends. 
 
 And Honour, and Glory. 
 
 And Ability to say or do ; also Towardliness, Will, and the 
 like. 
 
 And whatsoever Art, or Science. 
 
 And Life. 
 
 And whatsoever is Just. 
 
 The Disputable Principles are such as follow : 
 
 That is Good, whose contrary is Evil. 
 
 And whose contrary is Good for our Enemies. 
 
 And whose contrary our Enemies are glad of. 
 
 And of which there cannot be too much. 
 
 And upon which much labour and cost hath been bestowed. 
 
 And that which many desire. 
 
 And that which is praised. 
 
 And that which even our Enemies and evil men praise. 
 
 And what good we prefer. 
 
 And what we do advise. 
 
 And that which is possible, is Good (to undertake). 
 
 And that which is easie. 
 
282 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 And that which depends on our own Will. 
 
 And that which is proper for us to do. 
 
 And what no man else can do. 
 
 And whatsoever is Extraordinary. 
 
 And what is suitable. 
 
 And that which wants a little of being at an end. 
 
 And what we hope to master. 
 
 And what we are fit for. 
 
 And what evil men do not. 
 
 And what we love to do. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of the Colours, or common Opinions concerning Good and EvU, 
 comparatively. 
 
 The Colours of Good comparatively depend partly upon the 
 following Definitions of Comparatives. 
 
 1 . More, is so much, and somewhat besides. 
 
 2. Less, is that, which and somewhat else is so much. 
 
 3. Greater and more in number are laid only Comparatively 
 to Less, and Fewer in number. 
 
 4. Great and Little, Many and Few, are taken Compara- 
 tively to the Most of the same kind. So that Great and Many, 
 is that which exceeds; Little and Few, is that which is ex 
 ceeded by the Most of the same kind. 
 
 Partly from the precedent Definitions of Good absolutely. 
 
 Common Opinions concerning Good 
 Comparatively, then, are these. 
 
 Greater Good is Many, than fewer, or one of those many. 
 
 And Greater is the kind, in which the greatest is greater 
 than the greatest of another kind. And greater is that Good 
 than another good, whose kind is greater than another's kind. 
 
 And Greater is that from which another Good follows; 
 than the Good which follows. 
 
 And of two which exceed a third. Greater is that which 
 exceeds it most. 
 
 And that which causes the greater Good. 
 
 And that which proceeds from a greater Good. 
 
 And Greater is that which is chosen for it self, than that 
 which is chosen from somewhat else. 
 
CHAP. VII.] ART OF RHETORICK. 283 
 
 And the end Greater than that which is not the end. 
 
 And that which less needs other things, than that which 
 more. 
 
 And that which is independent, than that which is depend- 
 ent of another. 
 
 And the Beginning, than not the Beginning. 
 
 [Seeing the Beginning is a greater Good, or Evil, than 
 that which is not the Beginning ; and the End, than that 
 which is not the End ; One may argue from this Colour 
 both ways : as Leodamas against Chabrias, would have 
 the Actor more to blame than the Advisor ; and against 
 Callistratus, the Advisor more than the Actor.] 
 
 And the Cause, than not the Cause. 
 
 And that which hath a greater Beginning or Cause. 
 
 And the Beginning, or Cause of a greater Good or Evil. 
 
 And that which is Scarce, greater than that which is Plen- 
 tiful ; because harder to get. 
 
 And that which is Plentiful, than that which is Scarce ; 
 because oftener in Use. ' 
 
 And that which is easie, than that which is hard. 
 
 And that whose Contrary is greater. 
 
 And that whose Want is greater. 
 
 And Vertue than not Vertue, a greater Good. Vice, than 
 not Vice, a greater Evil. 
 
 And greater Good, or Evil is that, the effects whereof are 
 more Honourable or more Shameful. 
 
 And the effects of greater Vertues, or Vices. 
 
 And the Excess whereof is more tolerabl , a greater Good. 
 
 And those things which may with more honour be desired. 
 
 And the desire of better things. 
 
 And those things whereof the Knowledge is better. 
 
 And the Knowledge of better things. 
 
 And that which wise men prefer. 
 
 And that which is in better men. 
 
 And that which better men chuse. 
 
 And that which is more, than that which is less delightful. 
 
 And that which is more, than that which is less honourable. 
 
 And that which we would have for our selves and Friends, 
 a greater Good; and the contrary a greater Evil. 
 
 And that which is Lasting, than that which is not Lasting. 
 
 And that which is Firm, than that wliich is not Firm. 
 
284 HOBBES" BllIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 And what many desire, than what few. 
 
 And what the Adversary, or Judge confesseth to be greater, 
 is greater. 
 
 And Common than not Common. 
 
 And not Conimon than Common. 
 
 And what is more Laudable. 
 
 And that which is more Honoured, a greater Good. 
 
 And that which is more Punished, a greater Evil. 
 
 And both Good and Evil divided than undivided, appear 
 greater. 
 
 And Compounded than Simple, appear greater. 
 
 And that which is done with Opportunity, Age, Place, 
 Time, Means disadvantagious, greater than otherwise. 
 
 And that which is natural, than that which is attained unto. 
 
 And the same part of that which is great, than of that 
 which is less. 
 
 And that which is nearest to the end designed. 
 
 And that which is Good or Evil to ones self, than that 
 which is simply so. 
 
 And possible, than not possible. 
 
 And that which comes toward the end of our Life. 
 
 And that which we do really, than that which we do for show. 
 
 And that which we would be, rather than what we would 
 seem to be. 
 
 And that which is good for more purposes, is the greater 
 Good. 
 
 And that which serves us in great necessity. 
 
 And that which is joyned with less trouble. 
 
 And that which is joyned with more delight. 
 
 And of the two, that which added to a third, makes the 
 whole the greater. 
 
 And that which having, we are more sensible of. 
 
 And in every thing, that which we most esteem. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 
 Of the several Kinds of Governments, 
 
 Because Hortation and Dehortation concern the Common- 
 wealth, and are drawn from the Elements of Good and Evil; 
 as we have spoken of them already in the Abstract, so we 
 
CHAP, vm.] ART OF RHETORICK. 285 
 
 must speak of them also in the Concrete; that is, of what is 
 Good or Evil to each sort of Commonwealth in special. 
 
 The Government of a Commonwealth, is either Democracy, 
 or Aristocracy, or Oligarchy, or Monarchy. 
 
 Democracy is that, wherein all men with equal right, are 
 preferred to the highest Magistracy by Lot. 
 
 Aristocracy is that, wherein the highest Magistrate is 
 chosen out of those, that had the best education, according to 
 what the Laws prescribe for best. 
 
 Oligarchy is that, where the highest Magistrate is chosen 
 for wealth. 
 
 Monarchy is that, wherein one man hath the Government of 
 all ; which Govei-nment, if he limit by Law, is called King- 
 dom ; if by his own will. Tyranny. 
 
 The end of Democracy, or the Peoples Government, is 
 Liberty. 
 
 The end of Oligarchy, is the riches of those that govern. 
 
 The end of Aristocracy is good Laws, and good ordering of 
 the City. 
 
 The end of Monarchy, or Kings, is the safety of the People, 
 and conservation of his own Authority. 
 
 Good therefore, in each sort of Government is that which 
 conduceth to these their ends. 
 
 And because belief is not gotten only by proofs, but also 
 from manners; the manners of each sort of Commonwealth 
 ought to be well understood by him that undertaketh to per- 
 swade or diswade in matter of State. Their manners may be 
 known by their designs; and their designs by their ends; and 
 their ends by what we see them take pleasure in. But of this 
 more accurately in the Politicks. 
 
 , CHAP. IX. 
 
 Of the Colours of Honourable and Dishojwurable. 
 
 In a Demonstrative Oration, the subject whereof is Praise, 
 or Dispraise; the proofs are to be drawn from the Elements 
 of Honourable and Dishonourable. 
 
 In this place we anticipate the second way of getting be- 
 lief; which is from the manners of the Speaker. For Praise, 
 whether it come in as the. principal business, or upon the by, 
 depends still upon the same Principles. AVhich are these : 
 
286 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 Honourable, is that, which we love for itself, and is withal 
 laudable. 
 
 And that Good, which pleaseth us only because 'tis Good. 
 
 And Vertue. 
 
 Vertue is the faculty of getting and preserving that which 
 is Good ; and the faculty of doing many, and great things, 
 well. 
 
 The kinds of it are these ; 
 
 1. Justice; which is a Vertue whereby every man obtains 
 what by Law is his. 
 
 2. Fortitude; which is a Vertue by which a man carries 
 himself Honourably, and according to the Laws, in time of 
 danger. 
 
 3. Temperance; which is a Vertue whereby a man Governs 
 himself in matter of pleasure according to the Law. 
 
 4. Liberality; which is a Vertue, by which we benefit 
 others in matter of money. 
 
 5. Magnanimity ; which is a Fertwe, by which a man is apt 
 to do great benefits. 
 
 6. Magnificence ; which is a Vertue, by which a man is apt 
 to be at great cost. 
 
 7. Prudence ; which is an Intellectual Vertue, by which a 
 man is able to deliberate well concerning any Good leading to 
 Felicity. 
 
 And Honourable, are the Causes, and eifects of things 
 Honourable. 
 
 And the "Works of Vertue. 
 
 And the signs of Vertue. 
 
 And those actions, the reward whereof is Honour. 
 
 And the reward whereof is rather Honour, than Money. 
 
 And that which we do not for our own sakes. 
 
 And what we do for our Countries good, neglecting our own. 
 
 And those things are Honourable, which good of them- 
 selves, are not so to the Owner. 
 
 And those things which happen to the dead, rather than to 
 the living. 
 
 And what we do for other men, especially for Benefactors. 
 
 And bestowing of Benefits. 
 
 And the contrary of those things we are ashamed of. 
 
 And those things which men strive for earnestly, but with- 
 out fear of Adversary. 
 
CHAP. IX.] ART OF EHETORICK. 287 
 
 And of the more Honourable and better men, the Vertues 
 are more Ilonotirable. 
 
 And more Honourable are the vertues that tend to other 
 mens benefit, than those which tend to ones own. 
 
 And Honourable are those things which are Just. 
 
 And Revenge is Honourable. 
 
 And Victory. 
 
 And Honour. 
 
 And Monuments. 
 
 And those things which happen not to the living. 
 
 And things that excel. 
 
 And what none can do but we. 
 
 And possessions we reap no profit by. 
 
 And those tilings which are had in honour particularly in 
 several places. 
 
 And the signs of praise. 
 
 And to have nothing of the servile, mercenary, or mechanick. 
 
 And that which seems Honourable ; Namely such as follow. 
 
 Vices confining upon Vertue. 
 
 And the extreams of Vertues. 
 
 And what the Auditors think Honourable. 
 
 And that which is in estimation. 
 
 And that which is done according to custom. 
 
 Besides, in a Demonstrative Oration, the Orator must shew, 
 that he whom he praiseth, did what he praiseth unconstrain- 
 edly, and willingly. 
 
 And he does so, who does the same often. 
 
 Praise, is speech, declaring the magnitude of a Vertue, 
 Action, or Work. 
 
 But to praise the Work from the Vertue of the Worker, is 
 a circular proof. 
 
 To Magnify and to Praise, differ in themselves, as Felicity 
 and Vertue. For Praise declares a mans Vertue ; and Mag- 
 nifying declares his Felicity. 
 
 Praise is a kind of inverted Precept. For to say, Do it be- 
 cause 'tis good, is a Precept. But to say. He is good because 
 he did it, is Praise. 
 
 An Orator in Praising must also use the forms of Amplifi- 
 cation; such as these : 
 
 He was the first that did it. 
 
 The only man that did it. 
 
288 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 The special man that did it. 
 
 He did it with disadvantage of time. 
 
 He did it with little help. 
 
 He was the cause, that the Law ordained Rewards and 
 Honours for such Actions. 
 
 Further, he that will praise a Man, must compare him 
 with others ; and his actions with the actions of others ; 
 especially with such as are renowned. 
 
 And Amplification is more proper to a Demonstrative Ora- 
 tion, than to any other. For here the Actions are confessed ; 
 and the Orators part is only this, to contribute unto thera 
 Magnitude and Luster. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Of Accusation and Defence, with the Definition of Injury, 
 
 In a Judicial Oration, which consists in Accusation and De- 
 fence, the thing to be proved is, that Injury has been done : 
 and the heads from whence the proofs are to be drawn, are 
 these three : 
 
 1. The causes that move to Injury. 
 
 2. The Persons apt to do Injury. 
 
 3. The Persons obnoxious, or apt to suffer Injury. 
 
 An Injury is a voluntary offending of another man contra- 
 ry to the Law. 
 
 Voluntary is that which a man does with knowledge, and 
 without compulsion. 
 
 The causes of Voluntary Actions are Intemperance, and a 
 Vicious disposition concerning things Desirable. As the Co- 
 vetous man does against the Law, out of an intemperate desire 
 of Money. 
 
 All Actions proceed either from the doers disposition, or 
 not. 
 
 Those that proceed not from the Doers disposition are such 
 as he does by Chance, by Compulsion, or by Natural necessity. 
 
 Those that proceed from the Doers disposition, are such as 
 he does by Custom, or upon Premeditation, or in Anger, or 
 out of Intemperance. 
 
 By Chance are said to be done those things whereof neither 
 the Cause, nor the Scope is evident ; and which are done nei- 
 
ciiAP. XI.] ART OF RHETORICK. 289 
 
 ther orderly, nor always, nor moat commonly after the same 
 manner. 
 
 By Nature are said to be done: those things, the Causes 
 whereof are in the Doer ; and are done orderly, and always, 
 or for the most part after the same manner. 
 
 By Compulsion are done those things, which are against 
 the Appetite, and Ordination of the Doer. 
 
 By Custom those Actions are said to be done, the Cause 
 whereof is this, that the Doer has done them often. 
 
 Upon Premeditation are said to be done those things which 
 are done for profit, as the End, or the way to the End. 
 
 In Anger are said to be done those things which are done 
 with a purpose to Revenge. 
 
 Out of Intemperance are said to be done those things which 
 are delightful. 
 
 In sum, every Voluntary Action tends either to Profit or 
 Pleasure. 
 
 The Colours oi Profitable are already set down. 
 
 The Colours of that which is Pleasing follow next. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Of the Colours, or Common Opinions concerning Pleasure. 
 
 PLEASURE is a sudden and sensible motion of the Soul, 
 towards that which is Natural. 
 
 Grief is, the Contrary. 
 
 Pleasant therefore is that, which is the cause of such motion. 
 
 And to return to ones own Nature. 
 
 And Customes. 
 
 And those things that are not violent. 
 
 Unpleasant are those things, which proceed from Necessity, 
 as Cares, Study, Contentions. The contrary whereof. Ease, 
 Remission from Labour and Care : also, Play, Rest, Sleep, are 
 Pleasant. 
 
 Pleasant also is that, to which we have an appetite. 
 
 Also the appetites themselves, if they be sensual ; as Thirst, 
 Hunger, and Lust. 
 
 Also those things to which we have an appetite upon per- 
 swasion and Reason. 
 
290 IIOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book ,, 
 
 And those things we remember, whether they pleased, or 
 displeased, then when they were present. 
 
 And the things we hope for. 
 
 And Anger. 
 
 And to be in Love. 
 
 And Revenge. 
 
 And Victory. Therefore, 
 
 Also contentious Games ; as Tables, Chess, Dice, Tennis, etc. 
 
 And Hunting. 
 
 And Suits in Law. 
 
 And Honour and Reputation amongst men in Honour and 
 Reputation. 
 
 And to Love. 
 
 And to be Beloved and Respected. 
 
 And to be Admired. 
 
 And to be Flattered. 
 
 And a Flatterer : (for he seems both to love and admire). 
 
 And the same thing often. 
 
 And Change, or Variety. 
 
 And what we return to afresh. 
 
 And to learn. 
 
 And to admire. 
 
 And to do Good. 
 
 And to receive Good. 
 
 And to help up again one that's fallen. 
 
 And to finish that which is unperfect. 
 
 And Imitation. 
 
 And therefore the Art of Painting. 
 
 And the Art of Carving Images. 
 
 And the Art of Poetry. 
 
 And Pictures and Statues. 
 
 And other Mens Dangers, so they be near. 
 
 And to have escaped hardly. 
 
 And things of a kind please one another. 
 
 And every one himself. 
 
 And one's own pleases him. 
 
 And to bear Sway. 
 
 And to be thought Wise. 
 
 And to dwell upon that which he is good at. 
 
 And ridiculous Actions, Sayings, and Persons. 
 
CHAP. XII.] ART OF RHETORICK. 291 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Presumptions of Injury dravm from the Persons iliat do it : or 
 
 Common Opiniom concerning the Apititude of Persons 
 
 to do Injury. 
 
 Of the Causes which move to Injury, namely, Pro/if and 
 Pleasure, has been already spoken, Chap. 6, 7, 11. 
 
 It follows next to speak of the Persons, that are apt to do 
 Injury. 
 
 The Doers of Injury are. 
 
 Such as think they can do it. 
 
 And such 'as think to be undiscovered when they have 
 done it. 
 
 And such as think, though they be discovered, they^ shall 
 not be called in question for it. 
 
 And such as think, though they be called in question for it, 
 that their Mulct will be less than their Gain, which either 
 themselves or their Friends receive by the Injury. 
 Able to do Injury are. 
 
 Such as are Eloquent. 
 
 And such as are practised in Business. 
 
 And such as have skill in Process. 
 
 And such as have many Friends. 
 
 And Rich Men. 
 
 And such as have Eich Friends ; or Eich Servants ; or 
 Rich Partners. 
 
 Undiscovered when they have done it, are. 
 
 Such as are not apt to commit the crimes whereof they are 
 accused : as Feeble Men, Slaughter : Poor, and not Beautiful 
 Men, Adultery. 
 
 And such as one would think could not chuse but be dis- 
 covered. 
 
 And such as do Injuries, whereof there hath been no 
 Example. 
 
 And such as have none, or many enemies. 
 
 And such as can easily conceal what they do. 
 
 And such as have some body to transfer the fault upon. 
 They that do Injury openly, are, 
 
 Such whose friends have been Injured. 
 V 2 
 
■292 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 "And such as have the Judges for friends. 
 
 And such as can escape their Tryal at Law. 
 
 And such as can put off their Tryal. 
 
 And such as can corrupt the Judges. 
 
 And such as can avoid the payment of their Fine. 
 
 And such as can defer the payment. 
 
 And such as cannot pay at all. 
 
 And such as by the Injury get manifestly, much, and pre- 
 sently ; when the Fine is uncertain, little, and to come. 
 
 And such as get by the Injury, money ; by the penalty, 
 shame only. 
 
 And such on the Contrary, as get honour by the Injury, and 
 suffer the mulct of money, only, or banishment, or the like. 
 
 And such as have often escaped, or been undiscovered. 
 
 And such as have often attempted in vain. 
 
 And such as consider present pleasure, more than pain to 
 come ; and so intemperate men are apt to do Injury. 
 
 And such as consider pleasure to come, more than presant 
 pain ; and so temperate men are apt to do Injury. 
 
 And such as may seem to have done it by Fortune, Nature, 
 Necessity, or Custom ; and by Error, rather than by Injustice. 
 
 And such as have means to get pardon. 
 
 And such as want Necessaries, as poor men : or Unneces- 
 saries, as rich men. 
 
 And such as are of very good, or very bad Reputation. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Presumptions of Injury draion from the Persons that suffer-, and from 
 the Matter of the Injury. 
 
 Of those that do Injury, and why they do it, it hath been 
 already spoken. 
 
 Now of the persons that suffer, and of the Matter wherein 
 tiiey suffer, the common Opinions are these : 
 Persons obnoxious to Injury are. 
 
 Such as have the things that we want, either as necessary, 
 or as delightful. 
 
 And such as are far from us. 
 
 And such as are at hand. 
 
 And such as are unwary, and credulous. 
 
CHAP. XIII.] ART OF RHETORICK. 293 
 
 And such as are lazy. 
 
 And such as are modest. 
 
 And such as have swallowed many Injuries. 
 
 And such as have Injured often before. 
 
 And such as never before. 
 
 And such as are in our danger. 
 
 And such as- are ill beloved generally. 
 
 And such as are envyed. 
 
 And our Friends. 
 
 And our Enemies. 
 
 And such as, wanting friends, have no great ability either 
 in speech or action. 
 
 And such as shall be losers by going to Law : as, Strangers, 
 and Workmen. 
 
 And such as have done the Injuries they suffer. 
 
 And such as have committed a crime, or would have done, 
 or are about to do. 
 
 And such as, by doing them an Injury, we shall gratifie 
 our friends or superiours. 
 
 And such, whose friendship we have newly left, and accuse. 
 
 And such as another would do the Injury to, if we should 
 not. 
 
 And such as by Injuring, we get greater means of doing 
 good. 
 
 The Matters wherein men are obnoxious to Injury are, 
 
 Those things wherein aU, or most men use to deal unjustlj'. 
 
 And those things which are easily hid, and put off into 
 other hands, or altered. 
 
 And those things which a man is ashamed to have suffered. 
 
 And those things wherein prosecution of Injury, may be 
 thought a love of contention. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Of those Things which are necessary to he hnownfor the Definition 
 of Just and Unjust. 
 
 "When the fact is evident, the next Inquiry is, whether it 
 be Just, or Unjust. 
 
 For the Definition of Just and Unjust, we must know what 
 Law is : that is, what the Law of Nature, what the Law of 
 
294 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 Nations; what the Law Civil, what loritten Law, and what 
 univritten Law is : and what Persons, that is, what a publich 
 Person, or the City is ; and what a private Person, or Citi- 
 zen is. 
 
 Unjust in the opinion of all men, is that which is contrary 
 to the Law of Nature. 
 
 Unjust in the opinion of all men of those Nations which 
 traffick and come together, is that which is contrary to the 
 I^aiv common to those Nations. 
 
 Unjvst only in one Common-wealth, is that which is con- 
 trary to the Law Civil, or Law of that Common-wealth. 
 
 He that is accused to have done any thing against the Pub- 
 lick, or a private Person, is accused to do it either ignorantly, 
 or unwillingly, or in anger', or upon premeditation. 
 
 And because the Defendant does many times confess the 
 fact, but deny the unjustice; as that he took, but did not steal; 
 and did, but not adultery; it is necessary to know the Defini- 
 tions of Theft, Adultery, and all other crimes. 
 
 What facts are contrary to the written Laws, may be known 
 by the Laws themselves. 
 
 Besides written Laws, whatsoever is Just, proceeds from 
 Equity or Goodness. 
 
 From Goodness proceeds that which we are praised, or 
 honoured for. 
 
 From Equity proceed those actions, which though the writ- 
 ten Law command not, yet being interpreted reasonably, and 
 supplyed, seems to require at our hands. 
 Actions of Equity are such as these, 
 
 Not too rigorously to punish Errors, Mischances, or Injuries. 
 
 To pardon the faults that adhere to Mankind. 
 
 And not to consider the Law so much, as the Laio-makers 
 mind; and not the Words so much, as the meaning of the 
 Law '. 
 
 And not to regard so much the Fact, as the intention of 
 the Doer ; nor part of the Fact, but the Whole ; nor what the 
 Doer is, but what he has been always, or for the most part. 
 
 ' For, as the Quarterly Reviewer but too justly remarks, " To Tiolate 
 the spirit by obeying the letter, is often the painful duty of the judge ; to 
 make the letter conform to the spirit, is the privilege of the legislator ;" 
 and (he might have added) of the arbitrator, whose standard is equity. 
 See Quarterly Review, vol. xxvii. p. 133. 
 
ca iP. XV.] ART OF EHETORICK. 295 
 
 And to remember better the Good received, than the El. 
 And to endure injuries patiently. 
 
 And to submit rather to the sentence of a Judge, than of 
 the Sword. 
 
 And to the sentence of an Arbitrator, rather than of a Judge. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of the Colours or Common Opinions concerning Injuries 
 comparatively. 
 
 COMMON Opinions concerning Injuries comparatively, are 
 such as these : 
 
 Greater is the Injury which proceed from greater Iniquity. 
 
 And from which proceedeth greater damage. 
 
 And of which there is no revenge. 
 
 And for which there is no remedy. 
 
 And by occasion of which, he that hath received the Injury, 
 hath done some mischief to himself. 
 
 He does the greater Injury, that does it first, or alone, or 
 with few. 
 
 And he that does it often. 
 
 Greater Injury is that, against which Laws and Penalties 
 ■were first made. 
 
 And that which is more brutal, or more approaching to the 
 actions of beasts. 
 
 And that which is done upon more premeditation. 
 
 And by which more Laws are broken. 
 
 And which is done in the place of Execution. 
 
 And which is of greatest shame to him that receives the 
 Injury. 
 
 And which is committed against well deservers. 
 
 And which is committed against the unwritten Law ; be- 
 cause good men should observe the Law for Justice, and not 
 for fear of punishment. 
 
 And which is committed against the written Law ; because 
 he that will do Injury, neglecting the penalty set down in the 
 written Law, is much more likely to transgress the unwritten 
 Law, where there is no penalty at all. 
 
296 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book i. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Of Proofs Inartificial. 
 
 Of Artificial Proofs we have already spoken. 
 
 Inartificial Proofs, which we invent not, but make use of, 
 are of five sorts. 
 
 1 . Laws. And those are Civil, or written Law : the Law 
 or Custom of Nations : and the universal Law of Nature. 
 
 2. Witness. And those are such as concern Matter; and 
 such as concern Manners. Also, they be ancient, or present. 
 
 3. Evidences, or Writings. 
 
 4. Question, or Torture. 
 
 5. Oaths. And those be either given, or taken, or both, or 
 neither. 
 
 For Laws, we use them thus : 
 
 When the written Law makes against us, we appeal to the 
 Law of Nature, alledging, 
 
 That to be greatest Justice, which is greatest Equity. 
 
 That the Law of Nature is immutable ; the written Law 
 mutable. 
 
 That the written Law is but seeming justice ; the Law of 
 Nature very Justice. And Justice is among those things 
 which are, and not which seem to be. 
 
 That the Judge ought to discern between true and adul- 
 terate Justice. 
 
 That they are better men that obey unwritten, than written 
 Laws. 
 
 That the Law against us does contradict some other Law. 
 And when the Law has a double interpretation, that is the 
 true one, which makes for us. 
 
 And that the cause of the Law being abolished, the Law 
 is no more of Validity. 
 
 But when the written Law makes for us, and Equity for 
 the Adversary, we must alledge. 
 
 That a man may use Equity, not as a liberty to judge 
 against the Laic; but only as a security against being for- 
 -sworn, when he knows not the Law. 
 
 That men seek not Equity because 'tis good simply, but be- 
 cause good for them. 
 
CHAP. XVI.] ART OF RHETORICK. 297 
 
 That it is the same thing not to make, and not to use the Lmc. 
 
 That as in other Arts, and namely in Physick, fallacies are 
 pemitious ; so in a Common-wealth 'tis pernitious to use pre- 
 texts against the Law. 
 
 And that in Common-wealths well instituted, to seem wiser 
 than the Laws, is prohibited. 
 
 For Witnesses, we must use them thus : 
 
 When we have them not, we must stand for Presumptions, 
 and say, 
 
 That in Equity sentence ought to be given according to the 
 most probability. 
 
 That Presumptions are the testimony of the things them- 
 selves, and cannot be bribed. 
 
 That they cannot lye. 
 
 When we have Witnesses, against him that has them 
 not, we must say. 
 
 That Presumptions, if they be false, cannot be punished. 
 
 That if Presumptions were enough, Witnesses were super- 
 fluous. 
 
 For Writings, when they favour us, we must say, 
 
 That Writings are private and particular Laws; and he 
 that takes away the use of Evidences, abolisheth the Law. 
 
 That since Contracts and Negotiations pass by Writings, he 
 that bars their use, dissolves humane Society. 
 
 Against them, if they favour the Adversary, we may say. 
 
 That since Laws do not bind, that are fraudulently made to 
 pass, much less Writings. 
 
 And that the Judge being to dispense Justice, ought rather 
 to consider what is just, than what is in the Writing. 
 
 That Writings may be gotten by fraud or force ; but Justice 
 by neither. 
 
 That the Writing is repugnant to some Law, Civil, or 
 Natural; or to Justice; or to Honesty. 
 
 That 'tis repugnant to some other Writing before, or after. 
 
 That it crosses some commodity of the Judge (which must 
 not be said directly, but implyed cunningly). 
 
 For the Torture, if the giving of it make for us, we 
 must say. 
 
 That 'tis the only testimony that is certain. 
 But if it make for the Adversary, we may say. 
 
 That men inforced by Torture, speak as well that which is 
 false, as that which is true. 
 
298 THE ART OF RHETORICK. [book i. 
 
 That they who can endure, conceal the truth ; and they 
 who cannot, say that which is false to be delivered from pain. 
 For Oaths ; he that will not put his Adversary to his 
 Oath, may alledge. 
 
 That he makes no scruple to he. forsworn. 
 
 That by swearing, he will carry the cause ; which not 
 sivearing, he must lose. 
 
 That he had rather trust his cause in the hand of the 
 Judge, than of the Adversary. 
 
 He that refuseth to take the Oath, may say, 
 
 That the matter is not worth so much. 
 
 That if he had been an evil man, he had sworn, and 
 carryed his cause. 
 
 That to try it by swearing for a religious man against an 
 irreligious, is as hard a match, as to set a weak man against 
 a strong in combate. 
 
 He that is willing to take the Oath, may pretend, 
 
 That he had rather trust himself, than his Adversary ; and 
 that 'tis equal dealing for an irreligious man to give, and for 
 a religious man to take the Oath. 
 
 That 'tis his duty to take the Oath, since he has required 
 to have sworn Judges. 
 
 He that offers the Oath may pretend, 
 
 That he does piously commit his cause to the Gods. 
 
 That he makes his Adversary himself Judge. 
 
 That 'twere absurd for him not to swear, that has required 
 the Judges to be sworn. 
 
 And of these are to be compounded the Forms we are to 
 use, when we would give, and not take the Oath; or take, and 
 not give ; or both give and take ; or neither give nor take. 
 
 But if one have sworn contrary to a former Oath, he may 
 pretend. 
 
 That he was forced. 
 
 That he was deceived, and that neither of these is Perjury, 
 since Perjury is voluntary. 
 
 But if the Adversary do so, he may say, 
 
 That he that stands not to what he hath sworn, subverteth 
 humane Society. 
 
 And (turning to the Judge) What reason have we to re- 
 quire, that you should be sworn, that judge our cause; when 
 we will not stand to that we swear ourselves. 
 
 And so much for Proofs inartificial. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 The Introduction. 
 
 Op Belief proceeding from our Invention, that part which 
 consisteth in Proof, is ah-eady spoken of. 
 
 The other two parts follow ; whereof one ariseth from the 
 manners of the Speaker ; the other from the passions of the 
 Hearer. 
 
 The Principles, Colours, or Common Opinions upon which 
 a mans belief is grounded concerning the manners of him 
 that speaks, are to be had partly out of that which hath been 
 said before concerning Vertue, book i. chap. 9, partly out of 
 those things which shall be said by and by, concerning the 
 Passions. For a man is believed either for his Prudence, or 
 for his Probity, which are Vertues; or for Good Will: of 
 which among the Passions. 
 
 The Principles concerning Belief, arising from the Passion 
 of the Hearer, are to be gathered from that which shall now 
 be said of the several Passions in order. 
 
 In every one of which three things are to be considered : 
 
 1. First, how men are affected. 
 
 2. Secondly, towards whom. 
 
 3. Thirdly, for what. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Of Anger, 
 
 ANGER is desire of Revenge, joyned with grief for that he, 
 or some of his, is, or seems to be neglected. 
 
 The object of Anger is always some particular, or individual 
 thing. 
 
300 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book ii. 
 
 In Anger there is also pleasure proceeding from the imagina- 
 tion of revenge to come. 
 
 To Neglect, is to esteem little or nothing : and of three kinds. 
 
 1 . Contempt. 
 
 2. Crossing. 
 
 3. Contumely. 
 
 Contempt, is when a man thinks another of little worth in 
 comparison to himself. 
 
 Crossing, is the hinderance of another mans will without 
 design to profit himself. 
 
 Contumely, is the disgracing of another for his own pastime. 
 The common Opinions concerning Anger are therefore 
 such as follow : 
 
 They are easily Angry that think they are neglected. 
 
 That think they excell others ; as the Rich with the Poor ; 
 the Noble with the Obscure, etc. 
 
 And such as think they deserve well. 
 
 And such as grieve to be hindered, opposed, or not assisted. 
 And therefore sick men, poor men, lovers, and generally all 
 that desire and attain not, are angry with those that standing 
 by, are not moved with their wants. 
 
 And such as having expected good, find evil. 
 Those that men are angry with, are. 
 
 Such as mock, deride, or jest at them. 
 
 And such as shew any kind of Contumely, towards them. 
 
 And such as despise those things which we spend most la- 
 bour and study upon : and the more, by how much we seem 
 the less advanced therein. 
 
 And our friends, rather than those that are not our friends. 
 
 And such as have honoured us, if they continue not. 
 
 And such as requite not our courtesie. 
 
 And such as follow contrary courses, if they be our inferiours. 
 
 And our friends, if they have said, or done us evil, or not 
 good. 
 
 And such as give not eare to our intreaty. 
 
 And such as are joyful, or calm in our distress. 
 
 And such as troubling us, are not themselves troubled. 
 
 And such as willingly hear or see our disgraces. 
 
 And such as neglect us in the presence of our Competitors ; 
 of those we admire ; of those we would have admire us ; of 
 those we reverence ; and of those that reverence us. 
 
CHAP, in.] ART OF RHETOIUCK. 301 
 
 And such as should help us, and neglect it. 
 
 And such as are in jest, when we are in earnest. 
 
 And such as forget us, or our Names. 
 
 An Orator therefore must so frame his Judge or Auditor 
 by his Oration ; as to make him apt to Anger : and then make 
 his Adversary appear such as men use to be angry withal. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of Iteconciling, or Facifying Atiger. 
 
 RECONCILIATION is the appeasing of Anger. 
 Those to whom men are easily reconciled, are. 
 
 Such as have not offended out of neglect. 
 
 And such as have done it against their will. 
 
 And such as wish done the contrary of what they have done. 
 
 And such as have done as much to themselves. 
 
 And such as confess and repent. 
 
 And such as are humbled. 
 
 And such as do seriously the same things, that they do se- 
 riously. 
 
 And such as have done them more good heretofore, than 
 now hurt. 
 
 And such as sue to them for any thing. 
 
 And such as are not insolent, nor mockers, nor slighters of 
 others in their own disposition. 
 
 And generally such as are of a contrary disposition to those, 
 whom men are usually angry withal. 
 
 And such as they fear or reverence. 
 
 And such as reverence them. 
 
 And such as have offended their Anger. 
 Reconcileable are, 
 
 Such as are contrarily affected to those whom we have said 
 before to be easily angry. 
 
 And such as play, laugh, make merry, prosper, live in plen- 
 ty ; and in sum, all that have no cause of grief. 
 
 And such as have given their anger time. 
 Men lay down their Anger for these Causes. 
 
 Because they have gotten the Victory. 
 
 Because the Offender has suffered more than they meant to 
 inflict. 
 
302 HOBBES' BRIEF OP THE [book ii. 
 
 Because thej"" have been revenged of another. 
 
 Because they think they suffer justly. 
 
 And because they think the revenge vrill not be felt, or not 
 known that the revenge was theirs, and for such an injury. 
 
 And because the Offender is dead. 
 
 Whosoever therefore would asswage the anger of his Audi- 
 tor, must make himself appear such, as men use to be recon- 
 ciled unto : and beget in his Auditor such opinions, as make 
 him reconcileable. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of Love and Friends. 
 
 To Love, is to will well to another, and that for others, not 
 for our own sake. 
 
 A Friend is he that loves, and he that is beloved. 
 
 Friends one to another, are they that naturally love one 
 another. 
 
 A Friend therefore is he, 
 
 That rejoyceth at anothers Good. 
 
 And that grieves at his hurt. 
 
 And that wishes the same with us to a third, whether good, 
 or hurt. 
 
 And that is Enemy or Friend io the same man. 
 We hve them, 
 
 That have done good to us, or ours ; especially if much, 
 readily, or in season. 
 
 That are our Friends Friends. 
 
 That are our Enemies Enemies. 
 
 That are Liberal. 
 
 That are Valiant. 
 
 That are Just. 
 
 And that we would have love us. 
 
 And good Companions. 
 
 And such as can abide Jests. 
 
 And such as break Jests. 
 
 And such as praise us, especially for somewhat that we 
 doubt of in our selves. 
 
 And such as are neat. 
 
 And such as upbraid us not with our vices, or with their 
 own benefits. 
 
CHAP. IV.] ART OF RHETORICK. 303 
 
 And such as quickly forget injuries. 
 
 And such as least observe our Errors. 
 
 And such as are not of ill Tongue. 
 
 And those that are ignorant of our Vices. 
 
 And such as cross us not when we are busie, or angry. 
 
 And such as are officious towards us. 
 
 And those that are like us. 
 
 And such as follow the same course or trade of life, where 
 they impeach not one another. 
 
 And such as labour for the same thing, when both may be 
 satisfied. 
 
 And such as are not ashamed to tell us freely their faults, 
 so it be not in contempt of us, and the faults such, as the Woi'ld, 
 rather than their own Consciences condemns. 
 
 And such as are ashamed to tell us of their very faults. 
 
 And such as we would have honour us, and not envie, but 
 imitate us. 
 
 And such as we would do good to, except with greater hurt 
 to our selves. 
 
 And such as continue their Friendship to the dead. 
 
 And such as speak their mind. 
 
 And such as are not terrible. 
 
 And such as we may rely on. 
 
 The several kinds of Friendship, are Society, Familiarity, 
 Consanguinity, Affinity, etc. 
 
 The things that beget Love, are. 
 
 The bestowing ^ ^t i'j 
 c -D ^y -( Unasked. 
 01 Benefits, in- ^ i 
 •' ' {^Frwately. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 Of Enmity and Hatred. 
 
 The Colours, or Common Opinions concerning Hatred are to 
 be taken from the contrary of those, which concern Love and 
 Friendship. 
 
 Hatred differs from Anger in this, 
 
 That Anger regards only what is done to ones self ; but 
 Hatred not. 
 
 And in this, that Anger regards particulars only ; the other 
 universals also. 
 
304 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book ii. 
 
 And in this, that Anger is curable, Hatred not. 
 
 And in this, that Anger seeks the vexation, Hatred the 
 damage of ones Adversary. 
 
 That with Anger there is alvi'ays joined Grief ; virith Hatred 
 not always. 
 
 That Anger may at length be satiated, but Hatred never. 
 
 Hence it appears how the Judge or Auditor may be made 
 Friend or Enemy to us ; and how our Adversary may he 
 made appear Friend or Enemy to the Judge ; and how we 
 may answer to our Adversary, that would make us appear 
 Enemies to him. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of Fear. 
 
 FEAR is a trouble, or vexation of the mind, arising from the 
 apprehension of an evil at hand, which may hurt or destroy. 
 
 Danger is the nearness of the evil feared. 
 The things to he feared, are, 
 
 Such as have power to hurt. 
 
 And the signs of will to do us hurt, as Anger and Hatred 
 of powerful men. 
 
 And Injustice joyned with Power. 
 
 And Valour provoked, joyned with Power. 
 
 And the fear of powerful men. 
 
 The men that are to be feared, are. 
 
 Such as know our Faults. 
 
 And such as can do us- Injury. 
 
 And such as think they are injured by us. 
 
 And such as have done us Injury. 
 
 And our Competitors in such things as cannot satisfie both. 
 
 And such as are feared by more powerful men than we are. 
 
 And such as have destroyed greater men than we are. 
 
 And such as use to invade their inferiours. 
 
 And men not passionate, but dissemblers, and crafty, are 
 more to he feared than those that are hasty and free. 
 The things especially to be feared, are. 
 
 Such, wherein if we err, the error cannot be repaired ; at 
 least, not according to ours, but our Adversaries pleasure. 
 
 And such as admit either none, or not easie help. 
 
CHAP, vii.] ART OF RHETORICK. 305 
 
 And such as being done, or about to be done to others, 
 make us pity them. 
 
 They that fear not, are, 
 
 Such as expect not evil ; or not now ; or not this ; or not 
 from these. 
 
 And therefore va&cifear little in prosperity. 
 
 And me.i\ fear little that think they have suffered already. 
 
 An Orator therefore that would put Fear into the Auditor, 
 must let him see that he is obnoxious ; and that greater than 
 he do suffer, and have suffered from those, and at those times 
 they least thought. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of Assurance. 
 
 Assurance is hope, arising from an imagination that the help 
 is near, or the evil afar off. 
 
 The things therefore that beget Assurance are. 
 
 The remoteness of those things that are to be feared, and 
 the nearness of their contraries. 
 
 And the facUity of great, or many helps or remedies. 
 
 And neither to have done, nor received Injury. 
 
 And to have no Competitors, or not great ones, or if great 
 ones, at least friends; such as we have obliged, or are obhged to. 
 
 And that the danger is extended to more, or greater than us. 
 Assured, or Confident, are. 
 
 They that have oft escaped danger. 
 
 And they to whom most things have succeeded well. 
 
 And they that see their Equals, or inferiours not afraid. 
 
 And they that have wherewith to make themselves feared, 
 as wealth, strength, etc. 
 
 And such as have done others no vrrong. 
 
 And such as think themselves in good terms with God 
 Almighty. 
 
 And such as think they will speed well that are gone before. 
 
306 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book ii. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Of Shame. 
 
 Shame is a perturbation of the Mind arising from the appre- 
 hension of Evil, past, present, or to come, to the prejudice of 
 a mans own, or his friends reputation. 
 
 The things therefore which men are ashamed of are those 
 Actions which proceed from Vice, as, 
 
 To throw away ones Arms ; to run away ; signs of Coward- 
 liness. 
 
 To deny that which is committed to ones trust, a sign of 
 Injustice. 
 
 To have lyen with whom, where, and when we ought not, 
 signs of Intemperance. 
 
 To make gain of small and base things ; not to help with 
 money whom and how much we ought ; to receive help from 
 meaner men ; to ask money at use from such as one thinks will 
 borrow of him ; to borrow of him that expects payment of 
 somewhat before lent ; and to redemand what one has lent, of 
 him that one thinks will borrow more ; and so to praise, as 
 one may be thought to ask ; signs of Wretchedness. 
 
 To praise one to his face ; to praise his vertues too much, 
 and colour his vices ; signs of Flattery. 
 
 To be unable to indure such labours as men indure that are 
 elder, tenderer, greater in quality, and of less strength than 
 he ; signs of Eifeminacy. 
 
 To be beholden often to another ; and to upbraid those that 
 are beholding to him ; signs of Pusillanimity. 
 
 To speak and promise much of ones self more than is due ; 
 signs of Arrogance. 
 
 To want those things which ones Equals, all, or most of 
 them have attained to, is also a thing to be ashamed of. 
 
 And to suffer things ignominious, as to serve about anothers 
 person ; or to be imployed in his base Actions. 
 
 In Actions of Intemperance, whether wiEingly, or unwill- 
 ingly committed; there is shame in Actions of Force, only 
 when they are done unwillingly. 
 
 The men before whom we are ashamed, are such as we 
 respect ; namely. 
 
CHAP, vm.] ART OF RHETORICK. 307 
 
 Those that admire us. , 
 
 And those whom we desire should admire us. 
 
 And those whom we admire. 
 
 Those that contend with us for Honour. 
 
 Those whose opinion we contemn not. 
 
 And therefore men are most ashamed in the presence, 
 
 Of old and well bred men. 
 
 Of those we are always to live with. 
 
 Of those that are not guilty of the same fault. 
 
 Of those that do not easily pardon. 
 
 And of those that are apt to reveal our faults ; such as are 
 men injured, Backbiters, Scoifers, Comick Poets. 
 
 And of those before whom we have had always good success. 
 
 And of those who never asked any thing of us before. 
 
 And of such as desire our Friendship. 
 
 And of our familiars, that know none of our crimes. 
 
 And of such as wiU reveal our faults to any of those that 
 are named before. 
 
 But in the presence of such whose judgment most men 
 despise, men are not ashamed. 
 
 Therefore we are ashamed also in the presence. 
 
 Of those whom we reverence. 
 
 And of those who are concerned in our own, or Ancestors, 
 or Kinsfolks actions or misfortunes, if they be shameful. 
 
 And of their Rivals. 
 
 And of those that are to live with them that know their 
 disgrace. 
 
 The Common Opinions concerning Impudence are taken 
 from the contrary of these. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Of Grace, or Favour. 
 
 GRA CE is that Vertue, by which a man is said to do a good 
 turn, or to do service to a man in need ; not for his own but 
 for his cause to whom he does it. 
 
 Great Grace is when the need is great ; or when they are 
 hard or difficult things that are conferred, or when the time 
 is seasonable, or when he that confers the favour is the only, 
 or the first man that did it. 
 
 X 2 
 
308 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book ii 
 
 Need, is a desire joyned with grief for the absence of the 
 thing desired. 
 
 Grace therefore it is not, if it be not done to one that needs. 
 
 Whosoever therefore would prove that he has done a Grace, 
 or Favour, must shew that he needeth it to whom it was done. 
 Grace it is not, 
 
 "Which is done by Chance. 
 
 Nor which is done by Necessity. 
 
 Nor which has been Requited. 
 
 Nor that which is done to ones Enemy. 
 
 Nor that which is a Trifle. 
 
 Nor that which is Nought, if the Giver know the fault. 
 
 And in this manner a man may go over the Prsedicaments, 
 and examine a benefit, whether it be a Grace for being This, 
 or for being so Much, or for being Such, or for being Now, etc. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Of Pity, or Compassion. 
 
 PITY is a perturbation of the mind, arising from the appre- 
 hension of hurt or trouble to another that doth not deserve it. 
 and which he thinks may happen to himself, or his. 
 
 And because it appertains to Pity, to think that he, or his 
 may fall into the misery he pities in others, it follows that 
 they be most compassionate. 
 
 Who have passed through Misery. 
 
 And old Men. 
 
 And weak Men. 
 
 And timorous Men. 
 
 And learned Men. 
 
 And such as have Parents, Wife, and Children. 
 
 And such as think there be honest Men. 
 And that they are less compassionate, 
 
 Who are in great despair. 
 
 Who are in great prosperity. 
 
 And they that are angry ; for they consider not. 
 
 And they that are very confident ; for they also consider not. 
 
 And they that are in the Act of contumely ; for neither do 
 these consider. 
 
 And they that are astonished with fear. 
 
CHAP. XI.] ART OF RHETORICK. 309 
 
 And they that think no Man honest. 
 The things to be pitied are, 
 
 Such as grieve, and withal hurt. 
 
 Such as destroy. 
 
 And Calamities of fortune, if they be great ; as none or few 
 friends, deformity, weakness, lameness, etc. 
 
 And evil that arrives where good is expected. 
 
 And after extream evil, a little good. 
 
 And through a Mans life to have no good offer it self ; or 
 being offered, not to have been able to enjoy it. 
 Men to be pitied are. 
 
 Such as are known to us, unless they be so near to us, as 
 their hurt be our own. 
 
 And such as be of our own years. 
 
 Such as are like us in manners. 
 
 Such as are of the same, or like stock. 
 
 And our equals in dignity. 
 
 Those that have lately suffered, or are shortly to suffer in- 
 jury: and those that have the marks of injury past. 
 
 And those that have the words or actions of them in the 
 present misery. 
 
 CHAP XI. 
 
 Of Indignation, 
 
 Opposite in a manner to Pity in good Men, is Indignation, 
 which is grief for the prosperity of a Man unworthy. 
 
 With Indignation there is always joyned a joy for the pros- 
 perity of a Man worthy, as Pity is always with contentment 
 in the adversity of them that deserve it. 
 In wicked Men the opposite of Pity is. 
 
 Envy; as also the companions thereof delight in the harm of 
 others, which the Greeks in one word have called evticatpeKaKia. 
 But of these in the next Chapter. 
 
 Men conceive Indignation against others, not for their ver- 
 tues, as Justice, etc. 
 
 For these make Men worthy ; and in Indignation we think 
 Men unworthy. 
 
 But for those goods which men indued with vertue, and 
 noble Men, and handsome Men are worthy of. 
 
310 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE fBOOK ii. 
 
 And for newly gotten power and riches, rather than for 
 antient, and especially if by these he has gotten other goods,, 
 as by Riches, Command. The reason why we conceive greater 
 Iridignation against new than antient Riches, is, that the for- 
 mer seem to possess that which is none of theirs. But the 
 antient seem to have but their own. For with common peo- 
 ple, to have been so long, is to be so by Right. 
 
 And for the bestowing of goods incongruously : as when 
 the arms of the most valiant Achilles were bestowed on the 
 most Aoqa&at Ulysses. 
 
 And for the comparison of the inferiour is the same thing, 
 as when one valiant is compared with a more valiant ; or whe- 
 ther absolutely superiour, as when a good Scholer is compared 
 with a good Man. 
 
 Apt to Indignation are. 
 
 They that think themselves worthy of the greatest goods, 
 and do possess them. 
 
 And they that are good. 
 
 And they that are ambitious. 
 
 And such as think themselves deserve better what another 
 possesseth, than he that hath it. 
 Least apt to Indignation are. 
 
 Such as are of a poor, servile, and not ambitious Nature. 
 
 Who they are that Eejoyce, or Grieve not, at the adversity 
 of him that suffers worthily, and in what occasions may be 
 gathered from the contrary of what has been already said. 
 
 Whosoever therefore would turn away the Compassion of 
 the Judge, he must make him apt to Indignation; and shew 
 that his Adversary is unworthy of the Good, and worthy of 
 the Evil which happens to him. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Of Envy. 
 
 ENVY is grief, for the prosperity of such as our selves, arising 
 not from any hurt that we, but from the good that they receive. 
 
 Such as our selves, I call those that are equal to us in blood, 
 in age, in abilities, in glory, or in means. 
 They are apt to Envy, 
 
 That are within a little of the highest. 
 
CHAP, sii.] ART OF RHETORICK. 311 
 
 And those that are extraordinarily honoured for some quality 
 that is singula!' in them, especially Wisdom or good Fortune. 
 
 And such as would be thought wise. 
 
 And such as catch at glory in every action. 
 
 And Men of poor spirits : for every thing appears great to 
 them. 
 
 The things which Men Envy in others are, 
 
 Such as bring Glory. 
 
 And goods of Fortune. 
 
 And such things as we desire for our selves. 
 
 And things in the possession whereof we exceed others, or 
 they us a little. 
 
 Obnoxious to Envy are, 
 
 Men of our own time, of our own Countrey, of our own age, 
 and competitors of our Glory. 
 And therefore. 
 
 Those whom we strive with for honour. 
 
 And those that covet the same things that we do. 
 
 And those that get quickly, what we hardly obtain, or not 
 at all. 
 
 And those that attain unto, or do the things that turn to our 
 reproach, not being done by us. 
 
 And those that possess what we have possessed heretofore. 
 So old and decayed Men envy the young and lusty. 
 
 And those that have bestowed little, are subject to be en- 
 vyedhy such as have bestowed much upon the same thing. 
 
 From the contraries of these may be derived the Principles 
 concerning Joy for other Mens hurt. 
 
 He therefore that would not have his Enemy prevail, when 
 he craves Pity, or other favour ; must dispose the Judge to 
 Envy; and make his Adversary appear such, as above de- 
 scribed, to be subject to the Envy of others. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Of Emulation. 
 
 EMULATION is, grief arising from that our Equals possess 
 such goods as are had in honour, and whereof we are capable, 
 but have them not ; not because they have them, but because 
 not we also. 
 
312 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book ii. 
 
 No Man therefore Emulates another in things whereof him- 
 self is not capable. 
 
 Apt to Emulate are, 
 
 Such as esteem themselves worthy of more than they have. 
 
 And Young and Magnanimous Men. 
 
 And such as abeady possess the goods for which Men are 
 honoured : for they measure their worth by their having. 
 
 And those that are esteemed worthy by others. 
 
 And those whose Ancestors, Kindred, Familiars, Nation, 
 City, have been eminent for some good, do Emulate others 
 for that good. 
 
 Objects of Emulation are, for things ; Vertues. 
 
 And things whereby we may profit others. 
 
 And things whereby we may please others. 
 For Persons, 
 
 They that possess such things. 
 
 And such as many desire to be friends or acquainted with, 
 or like unto. 
 
 And they whose praises flie abroad. 
 
 The contrary of Emulation is Contempt. 
 
 And they that Emulate such as have the goods aforemen- 
 tioned. Contemn such as have them not : and thence it is, that 
 Men who live happily enough, unless they have the goods 
 which Men honour, are nevertheless Contemned. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 Of the Manners of Youth. 
 
 Op Passions we have already spoken. 
 
 We are next to speak of Manners. 
 
 Manners are distinguished by Passions, Habits, Ages, and 
 Fortunes. 
 
 What kind of Manners proceed from Passions, and from 
 Vertues and Vices (which are Habits), hath been already 
 shewed. 
 
 There remains to be spoken of the Manners, that are pe- 
 culiar to several Ages and Fortunes. 
 
 The Ages are Youth, Middle-Age, Old-Age. 
 
 And first of Youth. 
 Young Men are. 
 
CHAP. XIV.] ART OF EHETORICK. 313 
 
 Violent in their desires. 
 
 Prompt to execute their desires. 
 
 Incontinent. 
 
 Inconstant, easily forsaking what they desired before. 
 
 Longing mightily, and soon satisfied. 
 
 Apt to anger, and in their anger violent : and ready to ex- 
 ecute their anger with their hands. 
 
 Lovers of Honour and of Victory more than Money, as 
 having not been yet in Want. 
 
 Well natured, as having not been acquainted with much 
 malice. 
 
 Full of hope, both because they have not yet been often 
 frustrated, and because they have by natural heat that disposi- 
 tion that other Ages have by Wine ; Youth being a kind of 
 natural drunkenness. Besides, hope is of the time to come, 
 whereof Youth hath much, but of the time past little. 
 
 Credulous, because not yet often deceived. 
 
 Easily deceived, because full of hope. 
 
 Valiant, because apt to Anger and full of hope ; whereof 
 this begets confidence, the other keeps off Fear. 
 
 Bashful, because they estimate the Honour of Action by the 
 precepts of the Law. 
 
 Magnanimous, because not yet dejected by the misfortunes 
 of human life. 
 
 And lovers of Honour more than Profit, because they live 
 more by Custom than by Reason ; and by Reason we acquire 
 Profit, but Vertue by Custom. 
 
 Lovers of their Friends and Companions. 
 
 Apt to err in the excess, rather than the defect, contrary 
 to that precept of Chilon, -Ne quid nimis ; for they overdo 
 every thing : they Love too much, and Hate too much, because 
 thinking themselves wise, they are obstinate in- the opinion 
 they have once delivered. 
 
 Doers of Injury rather for contumely than for Dammage. 
 
 Mercifull, because measuring others by their own innocence, 
 they think them better than they be, and therefore less to 
 merit what they suffer ; which is a cause of Pity. 
 
 And lovers of Mirth, and by consequence such as love to 
 jest at others. 
 
 Jesting is witty Contumely. 
 
314 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE Ibook ii. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of the Manners of Old Men. 
 
 The Manners of Old Men are in a manner the contraries 
 of those of Youth. 
 
 They determine nothing : they do every thing less vehe- 
 mently than is fit : they never say they know ; but to every 
 thing they say, perhaps, and peradventure ; which comes to 
 pass from that having lived long, they have often mistaken 
 and been deceived. 
 
 They are peevish because they interpret every thing to the 
 . worst. 
 
 And suspicious through Incredulity, and incredulous by 
 reason of their Experience. 
 
 They love and hate, as if they meant to continue in neither. 
 
 Are of poor spirits, as having been humbled by the chances 
 of life. 
 
 And covetous, as knowing how easie 'tis to lose, and hard 
 to get. 
 
 And timorous, as having been cooled by years. 
 
 And greedy of life : for good things seem greater by the 
 want of them. 
 
 And lovers of themselves out of Pusillanimity. 
 
 And seek Profit more than Honour, because they love 
 themselves ; and Profit is among the goods that are not 
 simply good, but good for ones self. 
 
 And without bashfulness, because they despise seeming. 
 
 And hope little ; knowing by Experience that many times 
 good Counsel has been followed with ill event, and because 
 also they be timorous. 
 
 And live by Memory rather than Hope ; for Memory is of 
 the time past, whereof Old Men have good store. 
 
 And are full of Talk, because they delight in their Memory. 
 
 And Vehement in their anger : but not stout enough to 
 execute it. 
 
 They have weak, or no desires ; and thence seem Temperate. 
 
 They are slaves to Gain. 
 
 And live more by reason than, Custom ; because reason 
 leads to Profit, as Custom to that which is Honourable. 
 
CHAP. XVI.] ART OF RHETORICK. 315 
 
 And do Injury to indammage, and not in Contumely. 
 
 And are mercifull by Compassion, or imagination of the 
 same evils in themselves, which is a kind of Infirmity, and not 
 Humanity, as in Young Men, proceeding from a good opinion 
 of those that suffer Evil. 
 
 And full of complaint, as thinking themselves not far from 
 Evil, because of their Infirmity. 
 
 Seeing then that every Man loves such Men, and their 
 discourses, which are most agreeable to their own Manners; 
 'tis not hard to collect, how the Orator, and his Oration may 
 be made acceptable to the Hearer, whether Young or Old. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Of the Manners of Middle-aged Men. 
 
 The Manners of Middle-aged Men, are between those of 
 Youth, and Old Men, and therefore. 
 
 They neither dare, nor fear too much : but both as is lit. 
 
 They neither believe aU ; nor reject aU ; but judge. 
 
 They seek not only what is Honourable, nor only what is 
 Profitable ; but both. 
 
 They are neither Covetous, nor Prodigal ; but in the mean. 
 
 They are neither easily Angry ; nor yet Stupid : but be- 
 tween both. 
 
 They are Valiant, and withal Temperate. 
 
 And in general, whatsoever is divided in Youth, and Old 
 Men, is compounded in Middle-age. 
 
 And whereof the Excess, or Defect is in Youth or Old 
 Men; the Mediocrity is in those of the Middle-age. 
 
 Middle-age for the Body, I call the time from thirty to five 
 and thirty years : for the Mind, the nine and fortieth, or 
 thereabouts. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Of the Manners of the Nobility, 
 
 Oi* Manners that proceed from the several Ages we have 
 already spoken. 
 
 "We are next to speak of those that rise from several Fortunes. 
 
316 HOBBES' BEIEF OF THE [book ii. 
 
 The Manners of the Nobility are, 
 
 To be Ambitious. 
 
 To undervalue their Ancestors Equals. For the goods of 
 Fortune seem the more precious for their Antiquity. 
 
 Nobility is the vertue of a Stock. 
 
 And Generosity, is not to degenerate from the vertue of 
 his stock. 
 
 For as in Plants, so in the Races of Men, there is a certain 
 progress ; and they grow better and better to a certain point : 
 and change, viz. Subtil wits into madness ; and staid wits into 
 stupidity and blockishness. 
 
 CHAR XVIII. 
 
 Of the Manners of the JRieh. 
 
 RICH Men are Contumelious and Proud. This they have 
 from their Riches. For seeing every thing may be had for 
 Money, having Money, they think they have all that is good. 
 
 And Effeminate ; because they have wherewithal to sub- 
 minister to their Lust. 
 
 And Boasters of their Wealth : and speak in high terms 
 foolishly. For Men willingly talk of what they love and ad- 
 mire ; and think others affect the same that they do : and the 
 truth is, all sorts of Men submit to the Rich. 
 
 And think themselves worthy to command, having that by 
 which Men attain command. 
 
 And in general, they have the Manners of Fortunate Fools. 
 
 They do Injury, with intentions not to hurt, but to disgrace ; 
 and partly also through Incontinence. 
 
 There is a difference between New and Antient Riches: 
 for they that are newly come to Wealth have the same faults 
 in a greater degree : for New Riches are a kind of rudeness , 
 and apprentiship of Riches. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Of the Manners of Men in Power, and of such as prosper. 
 
 The Manners of Men in Power, are the same, or better than 
 those of the Rich. 
 
CHAP. XIX.] ART OF RHETORICK. 317 
 
 They have a greater sense of Honour than the Eich ; and 
 their Manners are more Manly. 
 
 They are more Industrious than the Eich : for Power is 
 sustained by Industry. 
 
 They are Grave, but without Austereness : for being in 
 place conspicuous, they carry themselves the more modestly ; 
 and have a kind of gentle and comely Gravity, which the 
 Greeks call OEfivoTujQ. 
 
 When they do Injuries, they do great ones. 
 
 The Manners of Men that prosper, are compounded of the 
 Manners of the Nobility, the Rich and those that are in 
 Power, for to some of these all Prosperity appertains. 
 
 Prosperity in Children, and goods of the Body, make Men 
 desire to exceed others in the goods of Fortune. 
 
 Men that Prosper have this ill, to be more proud and in- 
 considerate than others. 
 
 And this good ; that they worship God, trusting in him, 
 for that they find themselves to receive more good than pro- 
 ceeds from their Industry. 
 
 The Manners of Poor Men, Obscure Men, Men without 
 Power, and Men in Adversity, may be collected from the Con- 
 trary of what has been said. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 Common Places or Principles concerning what May he Done, tchat 
 Has been Done, and what Shall he Done ; or of Fact Possible, 
 Past, and Future. Also of Great and Little. 
 
 We have hitherto set down such Principles as are peculiar to 
 several kinds of Orations. 
 
 Now we are to speak of such Places as are Common to them 
 all ; as these, Possible, Done, or Past, Future, Great, Small. 
 Possible is that. 
 
 The Contrary whereof is Possible. 
 
 And the like whereof is Possible. 
 
 And than which some harder thing is Possible. 
 
 And the beginning whereof is Possible. 
 
 And the end whereof is Possible. 
 
 And the usual consequent whereof is Possible. 
 
 And whatsoever we desire. 
 
318 HOBBES' BEIEF OF THE [eook.ii. 
 
 And the beginning whereof is in the power of those whom 
 we can either compell or perswade. 
 
 And part whereof is Possible. 
 
 And part of the whole that is Possible. 
 
 And the General if a Particular. 
 
 And a Particular if the General. 
 
 And of Relatives, if one, the other. 
 
 And that which without Art and Industry is Possible, is 
 much more so with Art and Industry. 
 
 And that which is Possible to worse, weaker, and unsldlfuUer 
 Men, is much more so to better, stronger, and more skilful. 
 
 The Principles concerning Impossible are the Contraries 
 of these. 
 
 That Has been done, 
 
 Than which a harder thing has been done. 
 
 And the consequent whereof has been done. 
 
 And that which being Possible, he had a will to, and no- 
 thing hindered. 
 
 And that which was Possible to him in his Anger. 
 
 And that which he longed to do. 
 
 And that which was before upon the point of doing. 
 
 And whose antecedent has been done ; or that, for which it 
 uses to be done. 
 
 And if that, for whose cause we do this, then this. 
 
 The Principles concerning Not done are the Contraries 
 of these. 
 
 That Shall be done, 
 ' Which some Man can, and means to do. 
 
 And which some Man can, and desires to do. 
 
 And wliich is in the way, and upon the point to be done. 
 
 And the antecedents whereof are past. 
 
 And the Motive whereof is past. 
 
 Of Great and Small, More and Less, see chap. vii. book 1. 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 Of Example, Similitude, and Fables. 
 
 Op the Principles both general and special from whence 
 Proofs are to be drawn, has been already spoken. 
 
 Now follow the Proofs themselves which are Examples or 
 Enthymemes. 
 
CHAP. XXI.] ART OF RHETOBICK. 319 
 
 An Example is either an Example properly so called (as 
 some Action past) : or a Similitude (which is called a Para- 
 ble) : or a Fable (which contains some Action feigned). 
 
 An Example properly so called, is this ; Darius came not 
 into Greece, till he had first subdued ^gypt. Xerxes also 
 conquered JEigjpt first ; then afterwards crossed the Helles- 
 pont. We ought therefore to hinder the King of Persia from 
 conquering ^gypt. 
 
 A Similitude, or Parable, is such as followeth : They who 
 choose their Magistrates by Lot, are like them that choose for 
 their Champions those on whom the Lot shall fall, rather than 
 those who have the greatest strength ; and for their Pilot, not 
 him that hath skill ; but him whose name is drawn out of the 
 Time. 
 
 A Fable is in this manner. The Horse desiring to drive 
 out the Stag from his common pasture, took a Man to assist 
 him, and having received into his mouth a Bridle, and a Rider 
 upon his Back, obtained his intent, but became subject to the 
 Man. So you of Himera, having (in hope to be revenged of 
 your Enemies) given unto Phalaris Soveraign Authority, that 
 is to say, taken a Bridle into your Mouths ; if you shall also 
 give him a Guard to his Person, that is, let him get up upon 
 your Backs, you become his slaves presently past recovery. 
 
 To find out Examples, that is. Actions done that may serve 
 our purpose, is therefore hard, because not in our power. 
 
 But to find Fables and Similitudes, is easier ; because hj 
 conversing in Philosophy, a Man may feign somewhat in na- 
 ture like to the case in hand. 
 
 Examples, Similitudes, and Fables, where Enthymemes are 
 wanting, may serve us in the beginning of an Oration for /«- 
 ductions; otherwise are to be alledged after Enthymemes for 
 Testimonies. 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 Of a Sentence, 
 
 A SENTENCE is an universal Proposition concerning 
 those things which are to be desired or avoided, in the Actions 
 or Passions of the common life. As, 
 
 A wise Man will not suffer his Children to be over-learned. 
 
3'iO HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book ii. 
 
 And is to an Enthymeme in Rhetorick, as any Proposition 
 is to a Syllogisme in Logick. 
 
 ' And therefore a Sentence, if the reason be rendered, be- 
 comes a Conclusion, and both together make an Enthymeme. 
 As for Example, 
 
 To be over-learned, besides that it begets effeminacy, pro- 
 cures envy. Therefore he that's wise will not suffer his Chil- 
 dren to be over-learned. 
 
 Of Sentences there be four sorts. 
 
 For they either require Proofs, or not : that is, are mani- 
 fest, or not. 
 
 Such as are manifest, are either so, as soon as they are ut- 
 tered ; as, 
 
 Health is a great good. 
 
 Or as soon as they are considered ; as, 
 
 Men used to hate whom they have hurt. 
 
 Such as are not manifest, are either Conclusions of Enthy- 
 memes; as. 
 
 He that's wise will not suffer his Children, etc. 
 
 Or else are Enthymematical ; that is, have in themselves 
 the force of an Enthymeme; as, 
 
 Mortal Men ought not to carry Immortal Anger. 
 
 A Sentence not Manifest, ought to be either Inferred or 
 Confirmed. 
 
 Inferred thus : 
 
 ' Tis not good to be effeminately minded, nor to be envyed 
 by ones felloio Citizens. A wise Man therefore will not have 
 his Children over-learned. 
 
 Confirmed thus : 
 
 A wise Man will not have his Children over-learned, seeing 
 too much Learning both softens a Mans mind, and procures 
 him envy among his fellow Citizens. 
 
 If a reason be added to a manifest Sentence let it be short. 
 
 Sentences become not every Man ; but only old Men, and 
 such as be well versed in business. For to hear a young Man 
 speak Sentences, is ridiculous ; and to hear an ignorant Man 
 speak Sentences, is absurd. 
 
 Sentences generally received, when they are for our pur- 
 pose, ought not to be neglected, because they pass for truths. 
 And yet they may be denyed, when any laudable custom, or 
 humour may thereby be made appear in the Denyer. 
 
CHAP, xxui.] ART OF RHETORICK. 321 
 
 The commodities of Sentences, are two. 
 
 One proceeding from the Vanity of the Hearer, who takes 
 for true universally affirmed, that which he has found for true 
 only in some particular ; and therefore a Man ought to con- 
 sider in every thing what opinion the Hearer holds. 
 
 Another is, that Sentences do discover the manners and 
 disposition of the speaker ; so that if they be esteemed good 
 Sentences, he shall be esteemed a good Man ; and if evil, an 
 evil Man. 
 
 Thus much of Sentences, what they be ; of how many sorts ; 
 how to be used ; whom they become ; and what is their profit. 
 
 CHAP. XX HI. 
 
 Of the Invention of Enthymemes, 
 
 Seeing an Enthymeme differs from a Logical Syllogisme, in 
 that it neither concludes out of every thing, nor out of re- 
 mote Principles; the Places of it, from whence a Man may 
 argue, ought to be certain, and determinate. 
 
 And because whosoever makes a Syllogisme Rhetorical, or 
 other, should know all, or the most part of that which is in 
 question ; as, whosoever is to advise the Athenians in the 
 question, whether they are to make War or no, must know 
 what their Revenues be ; what, and what kind of power they 
 have : and he that vsdll praise them, must know their acts at 
 Salamis, Marathon, etc. It will be necessary for a good 
 speaker to have in readiness the choicest particulars of what- 
 soever he foresees he may speak of. 
 
 He that is to speak ex tempore, must comprehend in his 
 speech as much as he can of what is most proper in the mat- 
 ter in hand. 
 
 Proper, I call those things which are least common to others ; 
 as, he that will praise Achilles, is not to declare such things 
 as are common both to him, and Diomedes; as that he was a 
 Prince, and warred against the Trojans; but such things as 
 are proper only to Achilles; as that he killed Hector and 
 Cygnus; went to the "War young, and voluntary. 
 
 Let this therefore be one general Place, from that which is 
 proper. 
 
322 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book u 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 Of the Places of Enthymemes Ostensive. 
 
 Forasmuch as Enthymemes either infer truly, or seem only 
 so to do ; and they which do infer indeed, be either Ostensive; 
 or such as bring a man to some impossibility ; we will first 
 set down the Places of Enthymemes Ostensive. 
 
 An Ostensive Enthymeme is, wherein a man concludes the 
 question from somewhat granted. 
 
 That Enthymeme which brings a Man to an impossibility, 
 is an Enthymeme wherein from that which the Adversary 
 maintaineth, we conclude that which is manifestly impossible. 
 
 All Places have been already set down in a manner in the 
 precedent Propositions of Good, Evil, Just, Unjust, Honour- 
 able, and Dishonourable: namely, they have been set down as 
 applyed to Particular Subjects, or in Concrete. 
 
 Here they are to be set down in another manner ; namely 
 in the Abstract or Universal. 
 
 The first Place then let be from Contraries, which in the 
 Concrete or Particulars is exemplified thus. If Intemperance 
 be hurtful. Temperance is profitable : and if Intemperance he 
 not hurtful, neither is Temperance profitable. 
 
 Another Place may be from Cognomination or affinity of 
 words: as in this Particular. If what is Just be Good; 
 </«ew loAfflf is justly w well: Jm^ justly to die is not well: there- 
 fore not all that is Just is Good. 
 
 A third from Relatives; as, This Man has justly done, 
 therefore the other has justly suffered. But this Place some- 
 times deceives, for a man may sviSer justly, yet not from him. 
 
 A fourth from Comparison, three ways. 
 
 From the Great to the Less : as. He has stricken his Father; 
 and therefore this Man. 
 
 From the Less to the Greater : as, The Gods know not all 
 things ; much less Man. 
 
 From Equality : as. If Captains be not always the worse 
 esteemed for losing a Victory; why should Sophisters? 
 
 Another from the Time : as Philip to the Thebans : If I 
 had required to pass through your Country with my Army, 
 before I had ayded you against the Phocaeans, there is no 
 
CHAP. XXIV.] ART OF RHETORICK. 323 
 
 douht but you would have promised it me. It is absurd there- 
 fore to deny it me now, after I have trusted you. 
 
 A sixth from what the Adversary says of himself: as, 
 Iphicrates asked Aristophon, whether he would take a Bribe 
 to betray the Army ; and he answering no ; Wliat {say he) 
 is if likely that Iphicrates would betray the Army ; and Aris- 
 tophon not^ 
 
 This Place would be ridiculous, where the Defendant were 
 not in much more estimation than the Accuser. 
 
 A seventh from the Definition ; as that of Socrates; a Spi- 
 rit is either God, or the Creature of God: and therefore 
 he denies not that there is a God, that confesses there are 
 Spirits. 
 
 An eighth from the distinction of an ambiguous word. 
 
 A ninth from Division : as, If all Men do what they do for 
 one of three causes, whereof two are impossible ; and the Ac- 
 cuser charge not the Defendant tvith the third; it follows that 
 he has not done it. 
 
 A tenth from Induction : as. At Athens, at Thebes, at 
 Sparta, etc. And therefore every where. 
 
 An eleventh from Authority, or precedent sentence ; as that 
 of Sappho, that Death is evil, for that the Gods have judged it 
 so, in exempting themselves from mortality. 
 
 A twelfth from the Consequence : as, ' Tis not good to be 
 envied ; therefore neither to be learned. ' Tis good to be wise, 
 therefore also to be instructed. 
 
 A thirteenth from two contrary Consequences ; as, ' Tis not 
 good to be an Orator, because if he speak the truth, he shall 
 displease Men : If he speak falsely, he shall displease God. 
 
 Here is to be noted, that sometimes this argument may be 
 retorted : as thus, If you speak truth, you shall please God; if 
 you speak untruth, you shall please men: therefore by all 
 means be an Orator. 
 
 A Fourteenth from the quality that Men have to praise one 
 thing, and approve another : as. We ought not to war against 
 the Athenians upon no precedent injury ; for all Men discom- 
 mend injustice. Again, We ought to war against the Athenians^ 
 for otherwise our Liberty is at their mercy, that is, is no Liberty ; 
 but the preservation of Liberty is a thing that all Men will 
 approve. 
 
 A Fifteenth from Proportion : as, seeing we naturalize 
 T 2 
 
324 HOBBES", BRIEF OF THE [book ii 
 
 strangers for their vertues, why should we not banish this 
 stra.nger for his vices ? 
 
 A Sixteenth from the similitude of Consequents : as, He that 
 denies the immortality of the Gods, is no worse than he that has 
 written the generation of the Gods. For the same Consequence 
 follows of both, that sometimes there are none. 
 
 A Seventeenth from that, that Men change their mind: as, 
 If when we were in Banishment, we fbught to recover our 
 Country, why should we not fight now to retain it? 
 
 An Eighteenth from afained end: as, that Diomedes chose 
 Ulysses to go with him, not as more valiant than another; but 
 as one that would partake less of the Glory. 
 
 A Nineteenth from the Cause ; as if he would infer he did 
 it from this, that he had Cause to do it. 
 
 A Twentieth from that which is Incredible, but True : as, 
 that Laws may need a Law to mend them ; as well as Fish 
 bred in the salt Water, may need salting. , 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 Of the Places of Enthymemes that lead to Impossibility. 
 
 Let the first Place he from inspection of Times, Actions, or 
 Words, either of the Adversary, or of the Speaker, or both. 
 Of the Adversary ; as, He says, he loves the People, and yet 
 he was in the Conspiracy of the Thirty. Of the Speaker; as, 
 He says, I am contentious, and yet I never began Suit. Of 
 both ; as. He never conferred any thing to the benefit of the 
 Commonwealth, whereas I have ransomed divers Citizens with 
 mine own Money. 
 
 A Second, from shewing the cause of that which seemed 
 amiss, and serves for Men of good reputation that are ac- 
 cused ; as, The Mother that was accused of Incest for being 
 seen embracing her Son, was absolved as soon as she made 
 appear, that she embraced him upon his arrival from far, by 
 way of Salutation. 
 
 A Third, from rendring of the cause ; as, Leodamas, to 
 whom it was objected, that he had, under the Thirty Tyrants, 
 defaced the Inscription (which the People had set up in a 
 Pillar) of his Ignominy; answered. He had not done it; be- 
 cause it wotdd have been more to his commodity to let it stand; 
 
CHAP. XXVI.] ART OF RHETORICK. 325 
 
 thereby to indear himself to the Tyrants, by the Testimony of 
 the Peoples hatred. 
 
 A Fouith, ' from better Counsel ; as, ffe might have done 
 better for himself; therefore he did not this. But this Place 
 deceives, when the better Counsel comes to mind after the 
 Fact. 
 
 A Fifth, from Incompatibility of the things to be done ; as, 
 They that did deliberate whether they should both mourn and 
 sacrifice at the Funeral of Lev,cothea, were told, that if they 
 thought her a Goddess, they ought not to Mourn ; and if they 
 thought her a Mortal, they ought not to Sacrifice. 
 
 A Sixth, (which is proper to Judicial Orations,) from an 
 Inference of Errour ; as, If he did it not, he was not wise, 
 therefore he did it^- 
 
 Enthymemes that lead to Impossibility, please more than 
 Offensive : for they compare, and put contraries together, 
 whereby they are the better set off, and more conspicuous to 
 the Auditor. 
 
 Of all Enthymemes, they be best, which we assent to as 
 soon as hear. For such consent pleaseth us ; and makes us 
 favourable to the Speaker. 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 Of the Places of seeming Enthymemes. 
 
 Op seeming Enthymemes, one Place may be from the Form of 
 speaking ; as when a Man has repeated divers Sentences, he 
 brings in his Conclusion, as if it followed necessarily, though 
 it do not. 
 
 A Second from an ambiguous word. 
 
 A Third from that which is true divided, to that which is 
 false joyned; as that of Orestes, It was justice that I should 
 revenge my Fathers death, and it was justice my Mother should 
 die for killing my Father, therefore I justly killed my Mother. 
 Or from that which is true joyned, to that which is false 
 
 • ' Aristotle mentions a seventh element, derivatle from puns upon 
 ■ words. This however our analyst entirely overlooks; from the con- 
 sideration probably that it could contribute but little to the argumentative 
 strength of an oration ; or because it may be applied no less to confirma- 
 tion than to refutation. 
 
326 HOBBES" BRIEF OF THE [book ii. 
 
 divided ; as, one cup of Wine, and one cup of Wine, are 
 hurtful; therefore'one cup of Wine is hurtful. 
 
 A Fourth irom Amplification of the Crime. For neither is 
 the Defendant VikAj to have committed the Crime he ampli- 
 fies ; nor does the Accuser seem, when he is passionate, to 
 want ground for his Accusation. 
 
 A Fifth from signs; as, when a Man concludes the doing of 
 the Fact from the manner of his life. 
 
 A Sixth from that which comes by chance, as if from this, 
 that the Tyranny of Hipparchus came to be overthrown from 
 the love of Aristogeiton to Harmodius, a Man should conclude, 
 that in a free Common-wealth loving of Boys were profitable. 
 
 A Seventh from the Consequence, as Banishment is to be 
 desired, because a banished Man has choice of places to dwell in. 
 
 An Eighth from making that the cause which is not; as. In 
 Demosthenes his Government, the War began; therefore De- 
 mosthenes governed well. With the Pelponnesian War be- 
 gan the Plague, therefore Pericles that perswaded that War, 
 did ill. 
 
 A Ninth from the Omission of some circumstance, as, 
 Helen did what teas lawful, when she ran away with Paris, 
 because she had her Father's consent to choose her own Hus- 
 band; which was true only during the time that she had not 
 chosen. 
 
 A Tenth, from that which is probable in some case, to that 
 which is probable simply; as, 'Tis probable, he foresaw, that if 
 he did it, he should be suspected; therefore His probable he did 
 it not. 
 
 From this Place one may infer both ways that he did it not. 
 For if he be not likely to do it, it may be thought he did it not, 
 again, if he were likely to do it, it may be thought he did it not, 
 for this, that he knew he should be suspected. 
 
 Upon this Place was grounded the Art, which was so much 
 detested in Protagoras, of making the better cause seem the 
 worse ; and the worse the better. 
 
CHAP, xxvii.] ART OF RHETORICK. 327 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 Of the Wayes to answer the Arguments of the Adversary. 
 
 An Argument is answered by an opposite Syllogisme, or by an 
 Objection. 
 
 The Places of opposite Syllogismes are the same with the 
 Places of Syllogismes, or Enthymemes: for a Rhetorical Syl- 
 logisme is an Enthymeme. 
 
 The Places of Objections are four. 
 
 First, from the same, as, To the Adversary that proves 
 love to be good by an Enthymeme, may be objected, that no 
 want is good, and yet Love is want; or particularly thus : The 
 Love of Myrrha to her Father was not good. 
 
 The Second from Contraries: as, if the Adversary say, A 
 good Man does good to his friends, an Objection might be 
 made, that then an evil Man will do also evil to his friends. 
 
 The Third from Similitude; as thus, if the Adversary say, 
 all Men that are injured, do hate those that have injured them, 
 it may be objected, that then, all Men that had received Bene- 
 fits should love their Benefactors, that is to say, be grateful. 
 
 The Fourth from the authority of famous men; as when a 
 Man shall say, that drunken Men ought to be pardoned those 
 Acts- they do in their drunkenness, because they know not 
 what they do ; the Objection may be, that Pittacus was of an- 
 other mind, that appointed for such Acts a double punishment; 
 one for the Act, another for the Drunkenness. 
 
 And forasmuch as all Enthymemes are drawn from Proba- 
 bility, or Example, or from a Sign Fallible, or from a Sign 
 Infallible: an Enthymeme from Probability may be confuted 
 really, by shewing that for the most part it falls out other- 
 wise ; but apparently or sophistically, by shewing only that it 
 does not fall out so alwayes ; whereupon the Judge thinks the 
 Probability not sufficient to ground his Sentence upon. 
 
 [The Reason whereof is this. That the Judge, while he 
 hears the Fact proved probable, conceives it as true. For 
 the Understanding has no Object but Truth. And 
 therefore by and by, when he shall hear an Instance to 
 the contrary; and thereby find that he had no necessity 
 to think it true, presently changes his opinion, and thinks 
 it false, and consequently not so much as probable. For 
 
328 THE ART OF RHETORICK. [book ii 
 
 lie cannot at one time think the same thing both probable 
 and false : and he that says a thing is probable, the 
 meaning is, he thinks it true, but finds not arguments 
 enough to prove it.] 
 An Enthymeme from a, fallible sign, is answered, by shew- 
 ing the sign to be fallible. 
 
 An Enthymeme from an Example, is answered, as an En- 
 thymeme from Probability ; really, by shewing more Exam- 
 ples to the contrary; apparently, if he bring Examples 
 enough to make it seem not necessary. 
 
 If the Adversary have more Examples than we, we must 
 make appear that they are not applycable to the Case. 
 
 An Enthyrneme from an infallible sign, if the Proposition 
 be true, is unanswerable. 
 
 CHAP. XX vm. 
 
 Amplification and Extenuation are not Common Places. Enthymemes 
 ty which Argmnents are answered, are the same with those hy 
 which the Matter in question is proved, or disproved. Objections 
 are not Enthymemes. , 
 
 The first, that Amplification and Extenuation are not Com- 
 mon Places, appears by this, that Amplification and Extenu- 
 ation do prove a fact to be great, or little; and are therefore 
 Enthymemes, to be drawn from Common Places, and therefore 
 are not the Places themselves. 
 
 The second, that Enthymemes, by which Arguments are 
 answered, are of the same kind with those by which the mat- 
 ter in question is proved, is manifest by this, that these infer 
 the opposite of what was proved by the other. 
 
 The third, that an Objection is no Enthymeme, is apparent 
 by this, that an Objection is no more but an Opinion, Exam- 
 ple, or other Instance, produced to make appear, that the Ad- 
 versaries Argument does not conclude. 
 
 Thus much of Examples, Sentences, Enthymemes, and ge- 
 nerally of all things that hAong to Argumentation; from what 
 Places they may be drawn, or answered. 
 
 There remains Elocution and Disposition to be spoken of 
 in the next Book. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the Original of jEhcution and Pronuntiation. 
 
 Theee things being necessary to an Oration, namely, Proof, 
 Elocution, and Disposition ; we have done with the first, and 
 shall speak of the other two in that which follows. 
 
 As for Action, or Pronuntiation, so much as is necessary 
 for an Orator, may be fetcht out of the Book of the Art of 
 Poetry, in which we have treated of the Action of the Stage. 
 
 For Tragedians were the first that invented such Action, 
 and that but of late ; and it consisteth in governing well the 
 magnitude, tone, and measure of the Voice ; a thing less sub- 
 ject to Art, than is either Proof, or Elocution. 
 
 And yet there have been Rules delivered concerning it, as 
 far forth as serve for Poetry. 
 
 But Oratorical Action has not been hitherto reduced to Art. 
 
 And Orators in the beginning, when they saw that the 
 Poets in barren and feigned Arguments, nevertheless attained 
 great Reputation ; supposing it had proceeded from the choice, 
 or connexion of words, fell into a Stile, by imitation of them, 
 approaching to Verse, and made choice of words. 
 
 But when the Poets changed their Stile, and laid by all 
 words that were not in common use, the Orators did the same, 
 and lighted at last upon words, and a Grovernment of the 
 Voice and Measures proper to themselves. 
 
 Seeing therefore Pronuntiation, or Action are in some de- 
 gree necessary also for an Orator, the Precepts thereof are 
 to be fetcht from the Art of Poetry. 
 
 [In the mean time this may be one general rule. If the 
 Words, Tone, Greatness of the Voice, Gesture of the 
 Body and Countenance, seem to proceed all from one 
 Passion, then 'tis well pronounced. Otherwise not. 
 
330 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book hi. 
 
 For when there appear more passions than one at once, 
 the mind of the Speaker appears unnatural and dis- 
 tracted. Otherwise, as the mind of the Speaker, so the 
 mind of the Hearer always.] 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Of the Choice of Words and Epithets. 
 
 The Vertues of a Word are two ; the first, that it be perspicu- 
 ous ; the second, that it be decent ; that is, neither above, nor 
 below the thing signified ; or, neither too humble, nor too fine. 
 
 Perspicuous are all Words that be Proper. 
 
 Fine Words are those, that are borrowed, or Translated 
 from other significations; of which in the Art of Poetry. 
 
 The reason why borrowed Words please, is this. Men are 
 affected with Words, as they are with Men, admiring in both 
 that which is Forraign and'iVew. 
 
 To make a Poem graceful, many things help ; but few an 
 Oration. 
 
 For to a Poet it sufiiceth with what Words he can set out 
 his Poem: but an Orator must not only do that; but also 
 seem not to do it : for else he will be thought to speak un- 
 naturally, and not as he thinks ; and thereby be the less 
 believed ; whereas belief is the scope of his Oration. 
 
 The Words that an Orator ought to use are of three sorts. 
 Proper ; such as are Received ; and Metaphors. 
 
 Words taken from Forraign Languages, Words compounded, 
 and Words new coyned, are seldom to be used. 
 
 Synonimaes belong to Poets, and Equivocal Words to 
 Sophisters. 
 
 An Orator, if he use Proper Words, and Received, and 
 good Metaphors, shall both make his Oration beautiful, and 
 not seem to intend it ; and shall speak perspicuously. For in 
 a Metaphor alone there is Perspicuity, Novity, and Sweetness. 
 Concerning Metaphors the Rules are these. 
 
 1. He that will make the best of a thing, let him draw his 
 Metaphor from somewhat that is better. As for Example, 
 let him call a Crime, an Error. On the other side, when he 
 would make the worst of it, let him draw his Metaphor from 
 somewhat worse, as, calling Error, Crime. 
 
CHAP. III.] ART OF RHETORICK. 331 
 
 2. A Metaphor ought not to be so far fetcht, as that the 
 Similitude may not easily appear. 
 
 3. A Metaphor ought to be drawn from the noblest things, 
 as the Poets do that choose rather to say, Rosy-fingered, 
 than Red-fingered Aurora. 
 
 In like manner the Rule of Epithets is, 
 That he that will adorn, should use those of the better sort ; 
 and he that will disgrace, should use those of the worse : as 
 Simonides being to Write an Ode in honour of the Victory 
 gotten in a Course by certain Mules, being not well paid, called 
 them by their name ['Hjuiovovc] that signifies their propinquity 
 to Asses : but having received a greater reward, stiles them 
 the Sons of sunft-footed Coursers. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of the Things that make an Oration Flat. 
 
 The things that make an Oration fiat or insipide, are four. 
 
 1. Words Compounded ; [and yet a Man may Compound 
 a word, when the Composition is necessary, for want of a 
 simple word ; and easie, and seldom used.] 
 
 2. Forraign Words. As for Example, such as are newly 
 derived from the Latine; which though they were proper 
 among them whose tongue it is, are Forraign in another Lan- 
 guage : and yet these may be used, so it be moderately. 
 
 3. Long, impertinent, and often Epithets. 
 
 4. Metaphors, indecent, and obscure. Obscure they are, 
 when they are far fetcht. Indecent when they are ridiculous, 
 as in Comedies ; or too grave, as in Tragedies. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of a Similitude. 
 
 A SIMILITUDE differs from a Metaphor only by such Par- 
 ticles of Comparison as these. As ; Even as ; So ; Even so, etc. 
 
 A Similitude therefore is a Metaphor dilated ; and a Meta- 
 phor is a Similitude Contracted into one Word. 
 
 A Similitude does well in an Oration, so it be not too fre- 
 quent ; for 'tis Poetical. 
 
332 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book in 
 
 An Example of a Similitude, is this of Pericles ; that said 
 in his Oration, that the Baotians were like to so many Oaks 
 in a Wood, that did nothing but beat one another. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 Of the Purity of Language. 
 
 FouE things are necessary to make Language Pure. 
 
 1. The right rendring of those Particles which some ante- 
 cedent Particle does require : as to a Not only, a Not also ; 
 and then they are rendered right, when they are not sus- 
 pended too long. 
 
 2. The use of proper Words, rather than Circumlocutions, 
 unless there be motive to make one do it of purpose. 
 
 3. That there be nothing of double construction, unless 
 there be cause to do it of purpose. As the Prophets (of the 
 Heathen) who speak in general terms, to the end they may 
 the better maintain the truth of their Prophesies ; which is 
 easier maintained in generals, than in particulars. For 'tis 
 easier to divine, whether a number be even or odd, than how 
 many ; and that a thing will be, than what it will be. 
 
 4. Concordance of Gender, Number, and Person ; as not to 
 say Him for Her ; Man for Men ; Hath for Have. 
 
 In Summ ; a Man's Language ought to be easie for another 
 to read, pronounce, and point. 
 
 Besides, to divers Antecedents, let divers Relatives, or one 
 common to them all, be correspondent : as, ITe saw the 
 Coloiir; He heard the Sound ; or He perceived both Colour 
 and Sound ; but by no means, He heard or saw both. 
 
 Lastly, that which is to be interposed by Parenthesis, let it 
 be done quickly : as, I purposed, having spohen to him {to this, 
 and this purpose) afterward to be gone. For to put it oif 
 thus : I resolved, after I had spoken to him, to be gone ; but 
 the subject of my speech was to this and this purpose, is vitious. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 Of the Amplitude and Tenuity of Language. 
 
 A MAif shall add Amplitude, or Dignity to his Language, but 
 by such means as these. 
 
 1. By changing the Name with the Definition, as occasion 
 
CHAP, vn.] ART OF RHETORICK. 333 
 
 shall serve. As when the Name shall be indecent, by using 
 the Definition ; or Contrary. 
 
 2. By Metaphors. 
 
 3. By using the plural number for the singular. 
 
 4. By privative Epithets. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 Of the Convenience or Decency of Elocution. 
 
 ELOCUTIONS are made Decent, 
 
 1. By speaking feelingly ; that is, with such Passion as is 
 fit for the matter he is in ; as Angerly in matter of Injury, 
 
 2. By speaking as becomes the Person of the Speaker ; as 
 for a Gentleman to speak eruditely. 
 
 3. By speaking proportionably to the matter ; as of great 
 affairs to speak in a high ; and of mean, in a low Stile. 
 
 4. By abstaining from Compounded, and from Outlandish 
 words; unless a Man speak passionately, and have already 
 moved, and, as it were, inebriated his Hearers. Or Ironically. 
 
 It confers also to perswasion very much, to use these ordin- 
 ary Forms of speaking. All men know ; ' Tis confessed by all ; 
 No Man will deny, and the like. For the Hearer consents, 
 surprized with the fear to be esteemed the only Ignorant Man. 
 
 'Tis good also, having used a word that signifies more than 
 the matter requires, to abstain from the Pronunciation and 
 Countenance that to such a word belongs : that the Dispro- 
 portion between it and the matter may the less appear. And 
 when a Man has said too much, it will shew well to correct 
 himself : for he will get belief by seeming to consider what 
 he says. 
 
 [But in this a Man must have a care not to be too precise 
 in shewing of this Consideration. For the ostentation of 
 Carefulness is an argument oftentimes of lying ; as may be 
 observed in such as teU particularities not easily observed, 
 when they would be thought to speak more precise truth than 
 is required.] 
 
334 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book hi. 
 
 CHAP. VIII.'. 
 
 Of two Sorts of Stiles. 
 
 There be two sorts of Stiles. 
 
 The one continued or to be comprehended at once; the 
 other divided, or distinguished by Periods. 
 
 The first sort was in use with antient "Writers : but is now 
 out of date. 
 
 An Example of this Stile is in the History of Herodotus ; 
 wherein there is no Period till the end of the whole History. 
 
 In the other kind of Stile, that is distinguished by Periods ; 
 a Period is such a part as is perfect in it self, and has such 
 length as may easily be comprehended by the understanding. 
 
 This later kind is pleasant ; the former unpleasant, because 
 this appears finite, the other infinite : in this the Hearer has 
 always somewhat set out, and terminated to him ; in the other 
 he fore-sees no end, and has nothing finished to him ; this 
 may easily be committed to memory, because of the measure 
 and cadence (which is the cause that Verses be easily remem- 
 bered) ; the other not. 
 
 Every Sentence ought to end with the period, and nothing 
 to be interposed. 
 
 Period is either simple, or divided into Parts. 
 
 Simple is that which is Indivisible; as, I wonder you fear 
 not their ends, whose actions you imitate. 
 
 A Period divided, is that which not only has perfection and 
 length convenient, for respiration, but also Parts. As, / won- 
 der you are not afraid of their ends, seeing you imitate their 
 actions: where in these words, / wonder you are not afraid 
 of their ends, is one Colon, or Part; and in these, Seeing you 
 imitate their actions, another: and both together make the 
 Period. 
 
 The parts, or members, and periods of speech ought neither 
 to be too long, nor too short. 
 
 Too long are they, which are produced beyond the expect- 
 ation of the Hearer. 
 
 Too short are they, that end before he expects it. 
 
 ' Hobbes has overlooked Aristotle's 8th. chapter " on Rhythm." 
 
CHAP. IX.] ART OF RHETORICK. 335 
 
 Those that be too long, leave the Hearer behind, like him 
 that walking, goes beyond the usual end of the Walk, and 
 thereby out-goes him that walks with him. 
 
 They that be too short, make the Hearer stumble ; for 
 when he looks far before him, the end stops him before he be 
 aware. 
 
 A period that is divided into parts, is either divided only; 
 or has also an Opposition of the Parts one to another. 
 
 Divided only is such as this: This the Senate knows; the 
 Consul sees; and yet the Man lives. 
 
 A Period with Opposition of Parts, called also Antithesis, 
 and the parts Antitheta, is when contrary parts axe. put toge- 
 ther ; or also joyned by a third. 
 
 Contrary parts are put together, as here. The one has ob- 
 tained Glory, the other Riches; both by my benefit. 
 
 Antitheta are therefore acceptable ; because not only the 
 parts appear the better for the opposition; but also for that 
 they carry with them a certain appearance of that kind of En- 
 ihymeme, which leads to Impossibility. 
 
 Parts, or Members of a Period, are said to be equal, when 
 they have altogether, of almost equal Number of Syllables. 
 
 Parts, or Members of a Period, are said to be like, when 
 they begin, or end alike : and the more Similitudes, and the 
 greater equality there is of Syllables, the more graceful is the 
 Period. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Of those Thiru)S that grace an Oration, and make it delightful. 
 
 FoEASMircH as there is nothing more delightful to a Man, 
 than to find that he apprehends and learns easily ; it neces- 
 sarEy fallows, that those Words are most grateful to the Ear, 
 that make a Man seem to see before his Eyes the things sig- 
 nified. 
 
 And therefore Forraign Words are unpleasant, because 
 Obscure; and Plain Words, because too Manifest, making us 
 learn nothing new : but Metaphors please ; for they beget in 
 us by the Genus, or some common thing to that with another, 
 a kind of Science: as when an Old Man is called Stubble; 
 a Man suddenly learns that he grows up, flouri3heth, and 
 
336 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book hi. 
 
 withers like Grass, being put in mind of it by the qualities 
 common to Stubble, and to Old Men. 
 
 That which a Metaphor does, a Similitude does the same ; 
 but with less grace, because with more prolixity. 
 
 Such Enthymemes are the most graceful, which neither are 
 presently very Manifest, nor yet very hard to be understood", 
 but are comprehended, while they are uttering, or presently 
 after, though not understood before. 
 
 The things that make a speech graceful, are these ; Anti- 
 theta. Metaphors, and Animation. 
 
 Of Antitheta and Antithesis hath been spoken in the prece- 
 dent Chapter. 
 
 Of Metaphors the most graceful is that which is drawn from 
 Proportion. 
 
 [^Aristotle (in the 12 Chapter of his Poetry) defines a Me- 
 taphor to be the translation of a name from one signifi- 
 cation to another ; whereof he makes four kinds : 1. From 
 the General to the Particular. 2. From the Particular 
 to the General. 3. From one Particular to another. 
 4. From Proportion.^ 
 
 A Metaphor from Proportion is such as this, A State with- 
 out Youth, is a Year without a Spring. 
 
 Animation is that expression which makes us seem to see 
 the thing before our eyes ; as he that said. The Athenians 
 poured out their City into Sicily, meaning, they sent thither 
 the greatest Axmy they could make ; and this is the greatest 
 grace of an Oration. 
 
 If therefore in the same Sentence there concur both Meta- 
 phor, and tliis Animation, and also Antithesis, it cannot choose 
 but be very graceful. 
 
 That an Oration is graced by Metaphor, Animation, and 
 Antithesis, hath been said : but how 'tis graced, is to be said 
 in the next Chapter. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 In what Manner an Oration is (/raced hy the Things aforesaid. 
 
 'Tis graced by Animation, when the actions of living Crea- 
 tures are attributed to things without life ; as when the Sword 
 is said to devour. 
 
 » iTTiToKaia and (tyvov^tva. 
 
CHAP. X.] ART OF RHETORICK. 337 
 
 Such Metaphors as these come into a Mans mind by the 
 observation of things that have similitude and proportion one 
 to another. And the more unUke and unproportionable the 
 things be otherwise, the more grace hath the Metaphor. 
 
 A Metaphor without Animation, adds grace then, when the 
 Hearer finds he learns somewhat by such use of the word. 
 
 Also Paradoxes are graceful, so Men inwardly do believe 
 them : for they have in them somewhat like to those jests that 
 are grounded upon the similitude of words, which have usually 
 one sense, and in the present another ; and somewhat like to 
 those jests which are grounded upon the deceiving of a Mans 
 expectation. 
 
 And Paragrams ; that is, allusions of words are graceful, 
 if they be well placed ; and in Periods not too long ; and with 
 Antithesis ; for by these means the ambiguity is taken away. 
 
 And the more of these; namely. Metaphor, Animation, 
 Antithesis, Equality of Members, a Period hath, the more 
 graceful it is. 
 
 Similitudes grace an Oration, when they contain also a 
 Metaphor. 
 
 And Proverbs are graceful, because they are Metaphors, or 
 Translations of words from one species to another. 
 
 And Hyperboles, because they also are Metaphors: but 
 they are youthful, and bewray vehemence ; and are used with 
 most grace by them that are angry ; and for that cause are 
 not comely in Old Men. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Of the Difference between the Stile to he used in Writing, and the 
 Stile to he used %n Pleading. 
 
 The Stile that should be Read ought to be more exact and 
 accurate. 
 
 But the Stile of a Pleader ought to be suited to Action and 
 Pronuntiation. 
 
 Orations of them that Plead, pass away with the hearing. 
 
 But those that are Written, Men carry about them, and are 
 considered at leisure ; and consequently must endure to be 
 sifted and examined. 
 
 Written Orations appear flat in Pleading. 
 z 
 
338 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book m 
 
 And Orations made for the Barr, when the Action is away, 
 appear in Reading insipide. 
 
 In Written Orations Repetition is justly condemned. 
 
 But in Pleadings, by the help of Action, and by some 
 change in the Pleader, Repetition becomes Amplification. 
 
 In Written Orations Disjunctives do ill ; as, / came, I found 
 him, I ashed him: for they seem superfluous, and but one 
 thing, because they are not distinguished by Action. 
 
 But in Pleadings 'tis Amplification ; because that which is 
 but one thing, is made to seem many. 
 
 Of Pleadings, that which is Judicial ought to be more ac- 
 curate, than that which is before the people. 
 
 And an Oration to the people ought to be more accommodate 
 to Action, than a Judicial. 
 
 And of Judicial Orations, that ought to be more accurate, 
 which is uttered to few Judges ; and that ought to be more 
 accommodate to Action, which is uttered to many. As in a 
 Picture, the farther he stands off that beholds it, the less need 
 there is that the Colours be fine : so in Orations, the farther 
 the Hearer stands off, the less need there is for his Oration to 
 be elegant. 
 
 Therefore Demonstrative Orations are most proper for 
 Writing, the end whereof is to Read. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Of the Parts of an Oration, and their Order. 
 
 The necessary Parts of an Oration are but two ; Proposi- 
 tions, and Proof; which ai'e as it were the Probleme, and 
 Demonstration. 
 
 The Proposition is the explication, or opening of the Mat- 
 ter to be proved. 
 
 And Proof IS the Demonstration of the Matter propounded. 
 
 To these necessary parts, are sometimes added two other, 
 the Proeme and the Epilogue, neither of which are any Proof. 
 
 So that in some there be four parts of an Oration; the 
 Proeme, the Proposition, or (as the others call it) the Narra- 
 tion, the Proofs, (which contain Confirmation, Confutation, 
 Amplification, and Diminution^ and the Epilogue. 
 
CHAP. XIII.] ART OF RHETORICK. 339 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Of the Proeme. 
 
 The Proeme is the beginning of an i)ration, and, as it were, 
 the preparing of the way before one enter into it. 
 
 In some kinds of Orations it resembles the Prelude of Mu- 
 sicians, who first play what they Ust, and afterwards the Tune 
 they intended. 
 
 In other kinds it resembles the Prologue of a Play, that 
 contains the Argument. 
 
 Proemes of the first sort, are most proper for Demonstrative 
 Orations; in which a Man is free to foretell, or not, what 
 points he will insist upon ; and for the most part 'tis better 
 not : because when a Man has not obliged himself to a certain 
 matter. Digression will seem Variety : but if he have ingaged 
 himself, Variety will be accounted Digression. 
 
 In Demonstratives the matter of the Proeme consisteth in 
 the Praise or Dispraise of some Law or Custom, or in Ex- 
 hortation, or Dehortation ; or something that serves to incline 
 the Hearer to the purpose. 
 
 Proemes of the second kind are most proper for Judicial 
 Orations. For as the Prologue in a Dramatick, and the Exor- 
 dium in an Epique Poem, setteth first in few words the Argu- 
 ment of the Poem : so in a Judicial Oration the Orator ought 
 to exhibit a Model of his Oration, that the mind of the Hearer 
 may not be suspended, and for want of fore-sight, err or wander. 
 
 Whatsoever else belongs to a Proeme, is drawn from one 
 of these four ; From the Speaker, From the Adversary, From 
 the Hearer, or from the Matter. 
 
 From the Speaker and Adversary are drawn into Proemes 
 such Criminations and Purgations as belong not to the cause. 
 
 To the Defendant 'tis necessary in the Proeme to answer to 
 the accusations of his Adversary ; that those being cleared, he 
 may have a more favourable entrance to the rest of his Oration. 
 
 But to the Plaintife 'tis better to cast his Criminations all 
 into the Epilogue, that the Judge may the more easily re- 
 member them. 
 
 From the Hearer and from the Matter are drawn into the 
 Proeme such things as serve to make the Hearer favourable, 
 or angry ; attentive, or not attentive, as need shall require. 
 
 z 2 
 
340 HOBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book in. 
 
 And Hearers use to be attentive to persons that are reputed 
 good ; to things that are of great Consequence, or that concern 
 themselves, or that are strange, or that delight. 
 
 But to make the Hearer attentive, is not the part of the 
 Proeme only, but of any other part of the Oration, and rather 
 of any other part, than of the Proeme. For the Hearer is 
 every where more remiss than in the beginning. And there- 
 fore wheresoever there is need, the Orator must make appear 
 both the probity of his own person, and that the matter in 
 hand is of great Consequence ; or that it concerns the Hearer; 
 or that it is new ; or that it is delightful. 
 
 He that will have the Hearer attentive to him, but not to 
 the Cause, must on the other side make it seem that the 
 matter is a trifle, without relation to the Hearer, common, 
 and tedious. 
 
 That the Hearer may be favourable to the Speaker, one of 
 two things is required ; that he love him, or that he pitT/ him. 
 
 In Demonstrative Orations, he that praises shall have the 
 Hearer favourable if he think himself, or his own manners, 
 or course of life, or any thing he loves, comprehended in the 
 same praise. 
 
 On the contrary, he that dispraises, shall be heard favour- 
 ably, if the Hearer find his Enemies, or their courses, or any 
 thing he hates, involved in the same dispraise. 
 
 The Proeme of a Deliberative Oration is taken from the 
 same things, from which are taken the Proemes of Judicial 
 Orations. For the matter of a Deliberative Oration needeth 
 not that natural Proeme, by which is shewn what we are to 
 speak of ; for that is already known : the Proeme in these, 
 being made only for the Speakers, or Adversaries sake ; or to 
 make the Matter appear great, or little, as one would have it, 
 and is therefore to be taken from the persons of the Plaintif 
 or Defendant ; or from the Hearer, or from the Matter, as in 
 Orations Judicial. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Places of Crimination, and Purgation. 
 
 1. One is from the removal of ill Opinion in the Hearer, 
 imprinted in him by the Adversary, or otherwise. 
 
 2. Another from this. That the thing done is not hurtful, 
 
CHAP. XIV.] ART OF RHETORICK. 3-11 
 
 or not to him, or not so much, or 7iot unjust, or not great, or 
 not dishonourable. , 
 
 3. A tliird from the Recompence, as, I did him harm, but 
 toithal I did him honour. 
 
 4. A fourth from the Excuse; as, It was Errour, Mis- 
 chance, or Constraint. 
 
 5. A fifth from the Intention ; as, One thing was done, 
 another meant. 
 
 6. A sixth from the Comprehension of the Accuser; as, 
 TVJiat I have done, the Accuser has done the same; or his 
 Father, Kinsman, or Friend. 
 
 7. From the Comprehension of tliose that are in Reputa- 
 tion ; as, TFhat I did, such and such have done the same, 
 who nevertheless are good Men. 
 
 8. From Comparison with such as have h^tn falsely accused, 
 or wrongfully suspected, and nevertheless found upright. 
 
 9. From Recrimination ; as, The Accuser is a man of ill 
 life, and therefore not to be believed. 
 
 10. From that the Judgment belongs to another Place, or 
 Time ; as, / have already answered, or am to answer else- 
 where to this Matter. 
 
 11. From Crimination of the Crimination; as. It serves only 
 to pervert Judgment. 
 
 12. A twelfth, which is common both to Crimination and 
 Purgation, and is taken from some sign; as Teucer is not to 
 be believed, because his Mother was Priam's Sister. On the 
 other side, Teucer is to be believed, because his Father was 
 Priam's Enemy. 
 
 13. A thirteenth, proper to Crimination only, from praise 
 and dispraise mixt: as. To praise small things, and blame 
 great ones ; or to praise in many words, and blame with ef- 
 fectual ones ; or to praise many things that are good, and then 
 add one evil, but a great one. 
 
 14. A fourteenth, coming both to Crimination and Purga- 
 tion, is taken from the interpretation of the fact : for he that 
 purgeth himself interpreteth the fact always in the best sense ; 
 and he that Criminates, always in the worst ; as when Ulysses 
 said, Diomedes chose him for his Companion, as the most able 
 of the Grecians, to aid him in his exploit: but his Adversary 
 said, lie chose him for his cowardice, as the most unlikely to 
 share with him in the Honour. 
 
342 H.OBBES' BRIEF OF THE [book hi. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of the Narration. 
 
 The Narration is not always continued and of one Piece ; 
 but sometimes, as in Demonstratives, interrupted, and dispers- 
 ed through the whole Oration. 
 
 For there being in a Narration something that falls not 
 under Art ; as namely, the Actions themselves, which the 
 Orator inventeth not ; he must therefore bring in the Nar- 
 ration of them where he best may. As for Example, if being 
 to praise a Man, you would make a Narration of all his Acts 
 immediately from the beginning, and without interruption, 
 you will find it necessary afterwards to repeat the same Acts 
 again, while from some of them you praise his Valour, and 
 from others his Wisdom : whereby your Oration shall have 
 less variety, and shall less please. 
 
 'Tis not necessary always that the Narration be short. 
 The true measure of it must be taken from the matter that is 
 to be laid open. 
 
 In the Narration, as oft as may be, 'tis good to insert some- 
 what commendable in ones self, and blameable in ones Adver- 
 sary : As, / advised him but he would take no Counsel. 
 
 In Narrations, a Man is to leave out whatsoever breeds 
 compassion, indignation in the Hearer besides the purpose; 
 as Ulysses in Homer, relating his Travels to Alcinous, to 
 move compassion in him, is so long in it, that it consists of 
 divers Books : but when he comes home, tells the same to his 
 Wife in thirty Verses, leaving out what might make her sad. 
 
 The Narration ouglit also to be in such words as argue the 
 Manners; that is, some virtuous or vicious habit in him of 
 whom we speak, although it be not exprest ; As, setting his 
 Arms a kenbold, he answered, etc. by which is insinuated the 
 pride of him that so answered. 
 
 In an Oration a Man does better to shew his aifection than 
 his Judgment : that is, 'Tis better to say, I like this; than to 
 say. This is better. For by the one you would seem wise, by 
 the other good. But Favour follows Goodness; whereas Wis- 
 dom procures Envy. 
 
 But if this Affection seem incredible, then either a reason 
 
CHAP. XV.] ART OF RHETORICK. 343 
 
 must be rendered, as did Antigone. For when she had said. 
 She loved her brother better than her Husband or Children ; 
 she added, ybr Hitsband and Children I may have more; 
 but another Brother I cannot, my Parents being both dead. 
 Or else a man must use this form of speaking ; / know this 
 affection of mine seems strange to you; but nevertheless it is 
 such. For 'tis not easily believed, that any Man has a mind 
 to do any thing that is not for his own good. 
 
 Besides in a Narration, not only the Actions themselves ; 
 but the Passions, and signs that accompany them, are to be 
 discovered. 
 
 And in his Narration a Man should make himself and his 
 Adversary be considered for such, and such, as soon, and as 
 covertly as he can. 
 
 A Narration may have need sometimes not to be in the 
 beginning. 
 
 In Deliberative Orations; that is, where soever the question 
 is of things to come ; a Narration, which is always of things 
 past, has no place : and yet things past may be recounted, that 
 Men may deliberate better of the future : But that is not as 
 Narration, but Proof; for 'tis Example. 
 
 There may also be Narration in Deliberatives in that part 
 where Crimination and Praise come in : But that part is not 
 Deliberative, but Demonstrative. 
 
 CHAP. XYI. 
 Of Proof, or Confirmation, and JRefutation. 
 
 PROOFS are to be applyed to something controverted. 
 
 The Controversie in Judicial Oration is, Whether it has 
 been done; whether it has been hurtful; whether the matter 
 be so great, and whether it be Just, or no. 
 
 In a question of Fact, one of the Parties of necessity is 
 faulty, (for ignorance of the Fact is no excuse,) and therefore 
 the Fact is chiefly to be insisted on. 
 
 In Demonstratives, the Fact for the most part is supposed : 
 but the honour and profit of the Fact are to he proved. 
 
 In Deliberatives, the question is. Whether the thing be like 
 to be, or likely to be so great : or whether it be just; or whe- 
 ther it be profitable. 
 
 Besides the application of the Proof to the question, a Man 
 
314 HOBBES" BRIEF OF THE [book hi. 
 
 ought to observe, whether his Adversary have lyed in any 
 point -without the Cause. 'For 'tis a sign he does the same in 
 the Cause. 
 
 The Proo/i- themselves are either Examples, or Enthymemes. 
 
 A Deliberative Oration, because 'tis of things to come, re- 
 quireth rather Exdmples, than Enthymemes. 
 
 But a Judicial Oration, being of things past, which have a 
 necessity in them, and may be concluded syllogistically, re- 
 quireth rather Enthymemes. 
 
 Enthymemes ought not to come too thick together, for they 
 hinder one anothers force by confounding the Hearer. 
 
 Nor ought a Man to endeavour to prove every thing by 
 Enthymeme, least like some Philosophers, he collect what is 
 known, from what is less known. 
 
 Nor ought a Man to use Enthymemes, when he would move 
 the Hearer to some affection : For seeing divers Motions do 
 mutually destroy or weaken one another, he will lose either 
 the Enthymeme, ov the affection that he would move. 
 
 For the same reason, a Man ought not to use Enthymemes 
 when he would express Manners. 
 
 But whether he would move affection, or insinuate his 
 Manners, he may withal use Sentences. 
 
 A Deliberative Oration is more difficult than a Judicial, 
 because 'tis of t\iQ future, whereas a Judicial is of that which 
 is past, and that consequently may be known ; and because it 
 has principles, namely the Law ; and it is easier to prove 
 from principles, than without. 
 
 Besides, a Deliberative Oration wants those helps of turning 
 to the Adversary ; of speaking of himself; of raising passion. 
 
 He therefore that wants matter in a Deliberative Oration, 
 let him bring in some person to praise or dispraise. 
 
 And in Demonstratives he that has nothing to say in com- 
 mendation or discommendation of the principal party, let him 
 praise or dispraise some body else, as his Father, or Kinsman, 
 or the very vertues or vices themselves. 
 
 He that wants not Proofs, let him not only prove strongly, 
 but also insinuate his Manners: but he that has no Proof let 
 him nevertheless insinuate his Manners. For a good Man 
 is as acceptable, as an exact Oration. 
 
 Of Proofs, those that lead to an absurdity, please better 
 than those that are direct or ostensive ; because from the com- 
 
CHAP. XVII.] ART OF RHETORICK. 345 
 
 parison of Contraries, namely, Truth and Falsity, the force 
 of the Syllogisme does the better appear. 
 
 Confutation is also a part of Proof. 
 
 And he that speaks first, puts it after his own Proofs, unless 
 the Controversie contain many and different matters. And 
 he that speaks last, puts it before. 
 
 For 'tis necessary to make way for his own Oration, by 
 removing the Objections of him that spake before. For the 
 mind abhors both the Man, and his Oration, that is damned 
 before hand. 
 
 If a Man desire his Manners should appear well, (least 
 speaking of himself he become odious, or troublesome, or 
 obnoxious to obtrectation ; or speaking of another, he seem 
 contumelious, or scurrilous,) let him introduce another person. 
 
 Last of all, least he cloy his Hearer with Entliymemes, let 
 him vary them sometimes with Sentences ; but such as have 
 the same force. As here is an Enthymeme. If it be then the 
 best time to make peace when the best conditions of peace may 
 he had, then the time is now, while our Fortune is entire. And 
 this is a Sentence of equal force to it. Wise Men make peace, 
 while their Fortune is entire. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Of Interrogations, Answers, and Jests. 
 
 The times wherein 'tis fit to ask ones Adversary a question 
 are chiefly four. 
 
 1. The first is, when of two Propositions that conclude 
 an Absurdity, he has already uttered one ; and we would by 
 Interrogation draw him to confess the other. 
 
 2. The second, when of two Propositions that conclude an 
 Absurdity, one is manifest of it self, and the other likely to 
 be fetched out by a question; then the Interrogation yr'HA. be 
 seasonable ; and the absurd Conclusion is presently to be in- 
 ferred, without adding that Proposition which is manifest. 
 
 3. The third, when a Man would make appear that his 
 Adversary does contradict himself. 
 
 4. The fourth, when a Man would take from his Adversary 
 such shifts as these, In some sort 'tis so; In some sort 'tis 
 not so. 
 
346 THE ART OF RHETORICK. Ieook hi. 
 
 Out of these Cases 'tis not fit to interrogate. For lie whose 
 question succeeds not, is thought vanquished. 
 
 To equivocal questions a Man ought to answer fully, and 
 not to be too brief. 
 
 To Interrogations which we fore-see tend to draw from us 
 an Answer, contrary to our purpose, we must, together with 
 our Answer, presently give an Answer to the objection which 
 is implyed in the Question. 
 
 And whei-e the Question exacteth an Answer that con- 
 cludeth against us, we must together with our Answer pre- 
 sently distinguish. 
 
 Jests are dissolved by serious and grave discourse : and 
 grave discourse is deluded by Jests. 
 
 The several kinds of Jests are set down in the Art of 
 Poetry. 
 
 Whereof one kind is Ironia, and tends to please ones self. 
 
 The other is Scurrility, and tends to please others. 
 
 The latter of these has in it a kind of baseness ; the former 
 may become a Man of good breeding. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Of the Peroration. 
 
 The Peroration must consist of one of these four things. 
 
 Inclining the Judge to favour yourself, or to disfavour 
 your Adversary. For then, when all has been said respecting 
 the cause, is the best season to praise, or dispraise the Parties. 
 
 Of Amplification or Diminution. For when it appears 
 what is good or evil, then is the time to shew how great, or 
 how little that good or evil is. 
 
 Or in moving the Judge to Anger, Love, or other Passion. 
 For when it is manifest of what kind, and how great the good 
 or evil is, then it will be opportune to excite the Judge. 
 
 Or of Repetition, that the Judge may remember what has 
 been said. 
 
 Repetition consisteth in the matter, and the manner. For 
 the Orator must shew, that he has . performed what he pro- 
 mised in the beginning of his Oration, and how : namely, by 
 comparing his Arguments one by one with his Adversaries, 
 repeating them in the same order they were spoken. 
 
ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAP. I. & II. 
 
 How many parts of Rhetoric are there ? 
 
 On which of these parts, Hhng, Xi^ig, or tU jxlpri rov \6yov, 
 does Aristotle lay the greatest stress ? 
 
 Of which of these parts do the first two books treat ? 
 
 Has each species of oration vpoTatreiQ peculiar to itself ? 
 
 Give the Greek specific term for the iStai Trporaireie. 
 
 Are there -irporaaeLe common to all the species of oration ? 
 
 Give the specific word in Greek for the izpoTaaeiQ Koivai. 
 
 Does the first book treat of the c'iSr) or rowoi ? 
 
 In which book does he treat of the roiroi ? 
 
 With what view is the itiaTiQ ridiKrl and Slo. tS>v ciKpoaruiy 
 previously introduced ? 
 
 Do you consider that these belong peculiarly to the species 
 SiKaviKov and avjxfiovXtvTiKov of orations ? 
 
 With what view has Aristotle previously introduced the 
 Tag r/XiKiag and Tvxag of men ? 
 
 Has he treated of these in reference to all the species of 
 oration ? 
 
 How many subaltern genera of the iriang Sia rov Xoyoii are 
 there ? 
 
 Into how many species is the artificial genus subdivided ? 
 
 When is persuasion effected by rui fjdci tov Xiyovrog ? 
 
 Should the persuasion effected by this species arise from 
 any previous opinion entertained of the speaker ? 
 
348 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 When is persuasion effected Sih twv aKpoarwv ? 
 
 When is it effected kv avru tu> Xoyw ? 
 
 Of the TTtartiQ Sia rov Sencyiirai, (or the argument,) how 
 many species are there ? 
 
 Which is most persuasive, the TrapaJety/^a or ivQvfiriixa ? 
 
 Does Rhetoric furnish any instrument of persuasion, Sid rov 
 deiKvvvai, besides these ? 
 
 From what matter necessary, contingent, or impossible, are 
 enthymems drawn ? 
 
 Am I to understand that the enthymem'is drawn from the 
 eIkos and arifxeiov'i 
 
 Can an orator syllogize from premises previously inferred ? 
 
 Is there any objection to this process? 
 
 What is the objection to premises not previously inferred ? 
 
 If a particular proposition is inferred from an universal, is 
 it an eIkoq or ar\ji.tiov ? 
 
 Of the (Trj/xelov how many kinds are there ? 
 
 You say that one is anonymous, because it has no logical dif- 
 ference to fix the species ; mention the logical difference, which, 
 when added to the other a-qfiCiov fixes the species reKfiripiov ? 
 
 Are both these species equally forcible ? 
 
 What is a Trapalsiyfia ? 
 
 Which is of most service in induction, the rsK/jiripiov or 
 ■KapaZuyfia ? 
 
 Is the TCKfiripLov used in induction ? 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 How many species of orations are there ? 
 
 From what premises does Aristotle infer the three species 
 of oration ? 
 
 Is the judge of things past a judicial orator or pubhc 
 speaker ? 
 
 Does the Bcapoq judge merely of the power of an oration, 
 or exercise the functions of a judicial orator ? 
 
 Which species of oration is inferred from the iKKX-qaiaarriq ? 
 
 Which is inferred from the SiKaaTr/g and Gfwpoc? 
 
 Is it the business of the judicial orator to dissuade and 
 praise ? 
 
 What are the rd riXri of the three species of oration ? 
 
 Must a deliberative, judicial, and demonstrative orator be 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 349 
 
 in possession of npoTacrete on the subjects of each of these 
 species ? 
 
 If an orator wished to prove the injustice of Alcibiades's 
 banishment in a judicial court, would the premises of his syl- 
 logism be e'iSri of the judicial species, if drawn from the Ta 
 teXij honour and turpitude ? 
 
 Must a syllogism in the judicial species always be composed 
 of eiSt], or will it ever admit of tottoi ? 
 
 "When the orator is arguing on the possibility of a fact, are 
 his TTpoTaauQ the eiSt; or tottoi ? 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 How many chapters are devoted to the eiSoc avfifiov\e.vTi.Kov ? 
 
 Does Ai-istotle make any distinction between the subjects of 
 deliberation, and the things from which we deliberate, viz. 
 (rroi-)(eTa and tiSri ? 
 
 Throughout the following treatise does not Aristotle pre* 
 mise iTToixe'ia (vide chap. vi. 1) from which the e'idr) and rd- 
 TTot, &c. are deduced ? 
 
 In the a'iSoe (rvfjifiovXEvTiKov are not some the trToiy^ela and 
 c'idri of happiness and its divisions ? (chap, v.) 
 
 Are not others the oroixf^a and e'iSri of the rov ayadov and 
 <7u//^po)'7-oc simply affirmed concerning a subject of delibera- 
 tion? (chap, vi.) 
 
 Are the oroix'^a and e'lSri ever comparatively affirmed con- 
 cerning a measure, whether it be better and more useful? 
 (chap, vii.) 
 
 With what view does Aristotle treat of different forms of 
 government and their ra riXr] in this treatise ? 
 
 Could the orator be possessed of Trporao-Eis on a deliberative 
 subject without a knowledge of different forms of government 
 and the institutions of the same ? t 
 
 Are the things concerning which orators deliberate in 
 necessary, impossible, or contingent matter ? 
 
 To what kind of things is deliberation principally confined ? 
 
 Am I then to understand, that men deliberate on such 
 things as it is possible for them to accomplish, and which de- 
 pend not on chance for existence ? 
 
 How many subjects of deliberation does Aristotle enumerate? 
 
 In debates on finance, war and peace, internal defence, ex- 
 
350 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 ports and imports, what should the orator be accurately ac- 
 quainted with ? 
 
 Is the knowledge of legislation of importance to a deliber- 
 ative orator ? 
 
 In what does Aristotle place the safety of a state ? 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 What is the great object of human pursuit ? 
 
 How many definitions of happiness does Aristotle give ? 
 
 Which definition was adopted by the Stoics ? 
 
 Which by the Epicurean and Peripatetic schools ? 
 
 Can you enumerate any of the ra filpri of happiness ? 
 
 Distinguish the ra fiiprj into the ra r iv avrw, or internal 
 goods, and into ra Lctoq ayaQa, or external goods ? 
 
 Can you confirm the enumeration of the internal goods by 
 the second definition of happiness, and that of the external 
 goods in a measure, by the third definition ? 
 
 Define numerous and worthy progeny, nobility, and good 
 old age. 
 
 Does honour arise ever from the reputation of conferring 
 benefits ? 
 
 Why does Aristotle omit to treat of the virtues under the 
 deliberative species of orations ? 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 What is the object proposed to the deliberative orator ? 
 
 Does he deliberate on the means conducive to the end, or 
 the end itself? 
 
 How many definitions of good does Aristotl? enumerate as 
 oToiytia ? 
 
 How many eiSi; are there in this chapter deduced from the 
 arovyjua ? 
 
 Are the aroixeia of good ever definitions of good ? 
 
 Give definitions of good assumed by the reasons of choice, 
 appetite, intellect, and disposition to contentment. 
 
 Can you infer from the above premises that the acquisition 
 of good, and the exemption from evil, are goods ? 
 
 Prove them to be goods by some of the definitions of good. 
 
 Goods ra bfxoKoyovixfva can be proved by the above defini- 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 351 
 
 tions, but in disputed cases, (ev afifKTJStjrriiriiJiois,} what is the 
 easiest method of proving a thing to be a good ? 
 
 Can you prove legislation to be a good because anarchy is 
 an evil ? 
 
 Can you prove happiness to be a good by the reason of 
 choice ? 
 
 Can you prove pleasure and social intercourse to be goods 
 by the reason of appetite ? 
 
 Can you prove the moral virtues to be goods by the reason 
 of intellect ? 
 
 Are the consequences to the exemption from evil and ac- 
 quisition of good, immediate or remote ? 
 
 Does Aristotle imply the utility of the virtues when he says 
 that they are effective of good ? 
 
 How does he prove such specific virtues as temperance, 
 fortitude, &c., to be goods ? 
 
 Do you consider, on reviewing this chapter, that persuasion 
 can be effected by other Trporaaeis than simple -n-poTaffeis as- 
 sumed from the end of the eiSog avfx^ovXtvTiKov ? 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 How many definitions of good did you enumerate in the 
 preceding chapter'? 
 
 Eepeat these four definitions. 
 
 Mention the aroLxtia premised by Aristotle in this chapter, 
 from which he deduces the t'iS)) Trept tov jiuI^ovoq dyaQov, Koi 
 avfi<j>ipovToe- 
 
 Do I understand you to say that the definition of " excess, 
 and the thing exceeded," is premised as the arotxciov ? 
 
 Define the 7-0 riXoe- 
 
 Is a plurality of goods greater than one, or a fewer goods, 
 by the reason of numerical excess ? 
 
 Would this e'iSoe be fallacious, if the one, or the fewer, were 
 not co-enumerated with the plurality ? Vide Annotations, 
 vii. 3. 
 
 If an orator were to say, that beauty, strength, and riches, 
 were a greater good than virtue, would his assumption, ac- 
 cording to Aristotle, be correct ? 
 
 ' The first four may be considered as definitions of the toD iyaSou, 
 the others descriptions of the tou a-ufjitpapovTos. 
 
352 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 Why would it not ? 
 
 Have the excesses of genera and species any analogy ? 
 
 Could an orator prove lav to fieymrov tov jueytoroO inrepiyri, 
 Kol avTo. avTU)v, that if justice is a greater good than bravery, 
 Aristides excelled Themistocles ? 
 
 How many t'iSij does Aristotle enumerate in this chapter ? 
 
 Can an orator prove one thing to be a greater good than 
 another by the reason of its being the to riXoe ? 
 
 ,Is happiness, therefore, a greater good than virtue ? 
 
 Could he prove from the definition of the tov a-j/adov and 
 avfifspovToe, that virtue is a greater good than happiness, ^la 
 TO fidiovoQ ayadov itqiriTiicrjv eivai? 
 
 How would he prove one principle {apx't) to be greater 
 than another^? 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 With what view has Aristotle treated in the former chap- 
 ters of EiSatjuov/a and the ayadov and avfxcj>£pov ? 
 
 Why was it essential that he should treat of the ehSaifiovia 
 first ? (vide chap. v. 2.) 
 
 Is it by irporaaeis on the ayadov and avixfepov that the 
 tKKXriaiaaTrig persuades his audience ? 
 
 Can you give a reason why the iiyadov and avij.<j)ipov have 
 a peculiar relation to euScujuoj'ia as the o-kottoc of human pur- 
 suit ? (chap. viii. 2.) 
 
 Why does Aristotle assign so much importance to a know- 
 ledge of the ret rt'Xjj Tuv TToXiTn&v ? (chap. viii. 5.) 
 
 Why does he consider a knowledge of the jjfl?; of each 
 TToXiTzia essential ? (chap. viii. 6.) 
 
 Explain how the speaker will become invested with moral 
 character, by a perfect knowledge of the jjfl?) without any pre- 
 vious opinion having been entertained of him. (chap. viii. 6.) 
 
 Enumerate the Ta TtXr) woXiTeiiov. 
 
 Are the tcl riXri the subjects of deliberation, or measures 
 which have a reference to the ret tIXij ? 
 
 ' The reader is referred to Hobbes' Brief of the Art of Rhetoric, for a 
 distinct enumeration of the toVoi throughout this treatise. 
 
ON AKISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 353 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Give the definitions of the ro koXov and to at<r^pov, honour 
 and turpitude. 
 
 Are these definitions premised as the aroix^la from which 
 the £i2?) of demonstrative oratory are deduced ? 
 
 If the TO KoXov he that which you have defined, does it fol- 
 low that virtue and its species are honourable ? 
 
 Give the definitions of virtue. 
 
 If virtue is a Sivaftie evepyerik}], which of the species of 
 virtue do you consider the greatest ? 
 
 "Would you consider SiKawavvr) a greater virtue than Trp^drijc ? 
 
 Can you prove this assumption by the roTroe, ra fiel^ovoQ 
 ayaQov koX avufepovTOQ ■KonjTiKa, fid(ti> ? (vide chap. vii. 7.) 
 
 Give the definitions of the species of virtue, as these are 
 aroiyeia from which eiSij in demonstrative oratory are deduced. 
 
 Have demonstrative and dehberative oratory any points in 
 common ? (vide chap. ix. 35.) 
 
 Have the demonstrative and judicial any points in common ? 
 (chap. ix. 38.) 
 
 What is the diiference between i-Kaivoe and kyKusfiwv ? 
 
 On what principle must we show a man to have acted to be 
 worthy of praise ? (vide chap. viii. 32.) 
 
 Is coincidence of circumstances admissible as an indication 
 of the irpoalpEiTiq ? 
 
 Which are the best indications of a man's habits ? 
 
 To which of the species of oration are amplification and 
 extenuation peculiarly adapted ? 
 
 Is the Trapaltiyfia adapted to one species more than another ? 
 
 Why do you consider it more adapted to the deliberative ? 
 
 To which species is the enthymem most adapted ? 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 In considering the nature of the sources from which the 
 illt] of judicial orations are deduced, what are the three ques- 
 tions which Aristotle proposes to consider ? 
 
 Define the ro UiiKelv. 
 
 Do you conceive, generally speaking, that whatever men 
 do £(Sdr££ they do Ikojtec ? 
 
 2 A 
 
354 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 Does the irpoaipcaiQ characterize all actions which men do 
 
 tKOVTtS ? 
 
 Does the rgoaipEuiQ characterize all actions which fnen do 
 
 tlZoTEQ ? 
 
 Mention the causes of actions which men do irpoaipovfiei'oc 
 and Trapa. top vofiov. 
 
 Must the accuser consider the rivoiv, kuI iroaiav h'CKa, or the 
 inducement, to exist in his adversary ? 
 
 What are the eflcient causes of those actions which men do 
 not Bi aiiTove ? 
 
 Of this class of actions which men do not Zi avTovQ, but t^ 
 avayKris, what are the specific causes which Aristotle mentions ? 
 
 What are the efl5.cient causes of those actions which men do 
 2t' avTove ? 
 
 Into how many species does Aristotle divide the ops^ig ? 
 
 Mention the logical differences, which, when added to the 
 genus ope^Lc, give the species poiKrime, opyfi, and l-nSvixia ? 
 
 Enumerate the seven causes of actions. 
 
 Can the i/Xidai and e^eis be called the true causes of human 
 actions ? 
 
 Have they their consequences which when added to the true 
 causes give additional weight to the argument ? 
 
 Why does Aristotle omit to treat of the riXidai and i^eti 
 under the judicial species ? 
 
 Does Aristotle infer, from the definitions of the seven causes 
 of human actions, the ends of the agents ? (chap. x. 12, 13, 
 14, et seq.) 
 
 From which of the seven causes of actions does he infer the 
 ends of those actions which men do Si avToic ? 
 
 When Aristotle says, that all such things as men do Si' al- 
 Tove are real or apparent goods, why does he make the dis- 
 tinction of "real" and "apparent"? 
 
 Am I then to understand that all things which men do 
 willingly, and consequently all things which they do unjustly, 
 are really or apparently good, and really or apparently plea- 
 sant, and that these are the Jc eveKa aSiKovtn ? 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 With what view has Aristotle introduced the avfiiilpov in 
 the judicial species of oration, when he had previously con- 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 355 
 
 sidered it as the to rt'Xoc of the deliberative ? (chap. x. 
 
 Do I understand you to say, that he introduces it because it 
 is the end of human action ? 
 
 Tou have before stated that the eiidaifiovia was the cko-koq 
 of human pursuit, and now state that the avfupEpov and dyaQov 
 are the to tcXos of actions ; explain the meaning of the words 
 CTKOffos and teXoc. 
 
 Give the definition of ^Sov^ and Xutti). 
 
 How would you infer the definition of the rjiv and Xvirripov ? 
 
 Are these definitions the aroixua from which Aristotle de- 
 duces the c'iSri in this chapter '? 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 
 What division does Aristotle make and premise of the irwj 
 
 £-)(OVT£Q ddlKOVlTt ? 
 
 What are the three subdivisions of the orav o'iuvTai tavrole 
 Swarov ? 
 
 Why does Aristotle refer the discussion of the SwaTov 
 vpaxQrjvai to the second book of Ehetoric ? 
 
 Explain why the second part of the division, viz. tavTols 
 SvvaTov, should belong more especially to the judicial species, 
 when the Swaroy Trpa)(6fipai is considered as a tottoc. 
 
 Enumerate the threefold subdivision of the otuv oiwirai 
 cavTole SvvaTOV. 
 
 To what things do those persons trust who rely on the 
 punishment being less than the gain, if detected ? (third 
 member of the subdivision.) 
 
 Enumerate the things to which those persons trust who 
 hope to escape punishment if detected : (second member of 
 the subdivision.) 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Why should right and wrong be defined in reference to two 
 kinds of law ? 
 
 Why is the twofold distinction of persons {Trpoe ovg) in refer- 
 ence to whom right and wrong is defined, necessary ? (3.) 
 
 ' The reader is referred to Hobbes' Brief of the Art of Rhetorick, for 
 an enumeration of the to'ttoi throughout this treatise. 
 2 A 2- 
 
356 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 How many species of law does Aristotle enumerate ? 
 
 What is the subdivision of the vo/xog 'iSioe ? (2.) 
 
 What do you understand by the pofios Koivoe ? 
 
 Give the definition of to diiKiladai. 
 
 From whence does Aristotle infer this definition ? (chap.' 
 X. 3.) 
 
 What is the threefold division which Aristotle makes of 
 lyKXrifiaTa, or accusation ? 
 
 Why does Aristotle decline treating of the eyKkfifiaTa Sta 
 iradoe in this chapter ? 
 
 In what kind of cases do men, generally and specifically 
 speaking, manifest the Trpoaipeaie in action ? (chap. x. 4.) 
 
 Is it necessary for an accuser to lay great stress on the 
 TrpoaiptaiQ ? 
 
 Under what circumstances, or with what dispositions, do 
 men act by deliberative choice ? (chap. xii. 1.) 
 
 Do you consider that the depravity and injustice of an act 
 is manifested by the Trpoaiptaiq of the agent ? 
 
 Are they a arifxCiov or rtKfiripiov of deliberate choice ? 
 
 Is the Trpoaipeaie a atifiEiov or TeKfirjpiov of depravity and 
 injustice? 
 
 How many distinctions of right and wrong (Sirai'a cai 
 dyada) are there ? 
 
 Why is this twofold distinction made ? 
 
 Into how many species does Aristotle divide the subaltern 
 genus aypafa ? 
 
 Can you give a reason why the species "remarkably virtu- 
 ous and vicious," (rk fiep Kad' iiTrepPoXijv, &c.,) is not included 
 in the written law ? 
 
 When Solon was asked why he had not enacted a special 
 law against parricide, what was his answer ? 
 
 Does not this answer give the reason why adiKa of this spe- 
 cies are not included in the written law ckovtuv twv vofioQcTuv ? 
 
 Mention some virtues, which as falling under the species 
 Kad' inrepjioXrjv, &c., are not noticed in written laws ? 
 
 Is it because they are so universally acknowledged and re- 
 quired, that they are not noticed in written laws ? 
 
 What is the second species of ra SiKaia and dSiKa ? 
 
 What is the cause of this defect in the written law of states ? 
 
 Give the definition of equity. 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 357 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 What is the standard by which the degrees in criminality 
 may be ascertained ? 
 
 With what view does Aristotle infer etSr;, bah. av rf dwd 
 fiEilovoQ dSiKiac? (vide chap. ix. 39, with respect to the 
 aj/^Tjo-iC) a.nd Book ii. 26.) 
 
 What kind of injuries are comparatively the more severely 
 felt? 
 
 You stated in reply to questions in the first book, (chap, x.) 
 that izada generally, and dicpaaia specifically, were the causes 
 of acts of injustice characterized by the irpoaipiaiQ, how then 
 would you ascertain the comparative enormity of dSucfifiara ? 
 (vide Annotationes Schrader.) 
 
 Are dSiKTifiaTa of this description estimated by the hurt 
 done, or the irpoaipeaig of the agent ? (xii. 5.) 
 
 If the hurt done be irremediable, is the act of injustice 
 capable of being amplified ? 
 
 WiU the definition of dSitcfifiara depend on the Trpovoia of 
 the agent? (vide Annotationes xiv.,5.) 
 
 Am I then to understand that aSiKjj^ara which are irreme- 
 diable, incapable of being adequately punished, of being re- 
 venged, which are done frequently, and Ik irpovoiac, may be 
 considered fiei^ova ? 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 How many distinctions of the viartiQ arex^at are there ? 
 
 Into how many species is the distinction vofioi subdivided ? 
 
 Into how many subaltern genera is the distinction jxaprvptf: 
 (chap. XV. 13) divided? 
 
 Into how many subaltern species is the subaltern genus 
 TraXaioi fidprvpEQ subdivided ? 
 
 What kind of persons and things constitute the lowest spe- 
 cies to the subaltern species, (jrepl fitv ovv tUv yevonivoiv) of 
 the fxapTvpeg TraXaiol? (vide chap. XV. 13, 14.) 
 
 What kind of things and persons constitute the lowest spe- 
 cies to the subaltern species (Trtpl Be tUv kaofiivuv) of the 
 fiapTvpe!: iraXaiol ? (chap. xv. 14.) 
 
 Is the lowest species to the subaltern species, (jEpl ^kv twv 
 
358 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 yevofiivcov,) viz. poets and illustrious men, most adapted to the 
 judicial species of oration ? 
 
 Is the lowest species to the subaltern species, (irepl fiev oiv 
 tSiv hofiivav,) viz. soothsayers, oracles, and proverbs, equally 
 serviceable in the deliberative as in the judicial species of 
 oration ? 
 
 Into how many subaltern species is the subaltern genus 
 IxapTvpEC TT-poirfaToi divided? (chap. xv. 13.) 
 
 Wliat kind of things and persons constitute the lowest spe- 
 cies to the subaltern species (ol jutv fi^TtyovTse tov kiv^vvov) of 
 the jxapTvpeg 7rp6a(l>aToi'^ (chap. xv. 15, last Hne.) 
 
 What kind of persons constitute the lowest species to the 
 subaltern species (ot Se ektos kivBucou) of the fiaprvpts irpoafa- 
 roi ? (chap. XV. 15, first line.) 
 
 Which of the two lowest species (viz. the ol yyi>pifioi, and 
 01 av Solwai \p£vSE(rdai, or viva voce evidence,) is most entitled 
 to credit ? 
 
 Aristotle has hitherto treated of the different kinds of 
 fidpTvpic, and he then proceeds to consider the manner in 
 which their credit is to be amplified and extenuated by the 
 orator ; if the orator then has no witnesses to support his case, 
 by what arguments must he diminish the credit of testimony ? 
 (chap. XV. 17.) 
 
 To what circumstances does testimony speak ? (18.) 
 
 Is the iihpeachment of the veracity of a witness by an en- 
 thymem (ej dKoruiv) a solid objection to his testimony ? 
 
 Am I then to understand, that if the orator has no testi- 
 mony to adduce, he must, 
 
 1st. Insist on the propriety of the judge deciding, yi/oi/jrj 
 Ty apiarrj. (vide Book I. chap. xv. 5, 12, 17. Book II. 
 chap. XXV. 10.) 
 2nd. That e'lKora are better than witnesses, as they are 
 
 never open to corruption. 
 3rd. That tUora are never convicted of falsehood ? 
 
 If the orator has witnesses to support his case, by what 
 arguments should he corroborate their testimony, and extenu- 
 ate the eUora ? 
 
 What two precepts does Aristotle give with respect to the 
 extenuation and amplification of the avvdiJKai and pacravoi ? 
 
 What is the fourfold division with respect to oaths ? 
 
GENERAL QUESTIONS 
 
 JUDICIAL SPECIES OF ORATION. 
 
 In treating of the judicial species of oration, what does 
 Aristotle propose that the orator should first consider in his 
 accusation ? 
 
 If the question be simply whether his adversary has com- 
 mitted an injury, the orator must prove, — what ? (chap. x. 2.) 
 
 If an act of injustice has been committed, but thiit act of 
 injustice has not been defined by the written law, under which 
 species of law must he prove his case ? (chap. xiii. 14 ; xv. 4.) 
 
 Am I then to understand, that in inquiring whether his 
 adversary has committed an act of injustice, the orator's first 
 business is to prove that he has acted for some end ; secondly, 
 that he was a likely person to commit it ; and thirdly, that 
 the object injured was a person likely to be injured ? 
 
 Are these the three general points which he must prove 
 against his adversary ? 
 
 What is the specific point he must prove against his ad- 
 versary ? 
 
 Why is the general question. Whether the adversary has 
 committed an act of injustice, (chap. x. xi. xii.) and the spe- 
 cific question. Whether he has acted unjustly, (chap, xiii.) 
 distinguished? (vide chap. x. 7.) 
 
 To prove that his adversary has acted unjustly against the 
 state, or a private individual, what must the orator urge 
 against his adversary ? (chap. xiii. 7.) 
 
 If the act is clearly done by a voluntary agent, on what 
 principle must the orator prove his adversary to have acted ? 
 (chap. xiii. 7.) 
 
360 GENERAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 If the act is clearly done by deliberative choice, what is 
 the next question an orator must prove against his adversary ? 
 (chap. xiii. 9.) 
 
 To prove simply that his adversary has acted unjustly, ho-w 
 many specific questions arise for the orator's consideration ? 
 Are they not three ? 
 
 1st. Whether he has violated the written law? (chap. 
 
 xiii. 9.) 
 2nd. If he has not violated the written law, whether he 
 has acted with depravity so excessive as not to be de- 
 fined by the written law ? (chap. xiii. 12.) 
 3rd. Whether he has acted in violation of equity ? (chap. 
 xiii. 12, 13.) 
 
ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 
 
 BOOK II.— CHAP. I. 
 
 You stated in reply to questions in the first book, that Aris- 
 totle had made three distinctions of iriarue, viz. iih tov rjdovc, 
 Sia Twv aKpoardv, Sta Ttav Xoyiav : which of these three distinc- 
 tions has he already treated of, and which is he now proceed- 
 ing to discuss ? 
 
 What is the end of Rhetoric, or the object which an orator 
 in speaking has always in view ? (vide Annotationes, chap. i. 2.) 
 
 How does the investment of one's self v?ith moral character 
 effect persuasion in the auditor ? (vide Schrader's note, 1, 3.) 
 
 Must the quahflcations by which the speaker invests him- 
 self with moral character, be perceived from the speech as 
 existing in him, (vide Book I. chap. ii. 4,) or known to have 
 existed in him before ? 
 
 From the three distinctions of iriareie, what do you infer to 
 be the three great accomplishments of a perfect orator ? 
 
 Do I understand you to say, proof by enthymem, invest- 
 ment of himself with moral character, and the excitement of 
 the passions in his auditors ? 
 
 What are the three causes of a speaker's effecting persua- 
 sion through moral character ? 
 
 If a speaker appears to be a man capable of imparting be- 
 nefits to the state, does he effect persuasion through moral 
 character, by his virtue ? (vide chap. ix. 4, definition of virtue.) 
 
 When Demos^thenes in the oration for the crown makes use 
 of the following words, — 
 
362 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 'AXV wc eoiKev, eKeivog b KaipoQ cat i/ rjfiipa tKEivr) oh fiovov 
 evvovv cat izkovaiov avipa iicaXei, oKkh KoX TrapriKoXovdriKOTa rdlg 
 TrpayjiaaLV i£, apxfis, '■'«' avWcKoyiafJ-ivov opdiJs tIvoq ivtsa 
 ravT iirpaTTev b ^iXiinrog /cat r( fiovkofi^voq' b yap fii) ravr elSiuQ 
 fi.riS' i^t]TaK0)Q TToppaQtv hifitkuQ, ovt ti tvvovQ fjv ovr u irkov- 
 (TiOQ, ovSev juaXXov fiixeWev 6 ri XP'I "■"'"v e'iireadai ovF vfiiv 
 e^uv avfifiovXtiiEiv. kfavriv Toivvv oiiroq kv EKti'j'p ry r]jiipq. kyui, 
 KoX irapeXdiiiv slirov e'lQ vfiaQ, a fiov Svoiv tviK aKoixraTE wpoai- 
 ■yovTiQ Tov vovv, ivoQ fiiv, 'iv Eilr\TE on jiovoQ tSiv \ty6vTU)v KoX 
 voXiTevofiivtov eyH) Tqv ttjq evvoiaq Ta£,iv kv to'iq ZuVoIq ovk 
 eXiitov, aXXa KoX Xiywv koi ypa^iav ki,riTa'C6fxr]v to. Ztovff VTep 
 Vfiidv kv avTo'te ToiQ (^o^epoic, kripov Sf, on ^ucpbv ayaXiiffavrts 
 •^ovov TToKkiM) TrpoQ tU XotTTCt T^c TTaffT/c 7roXtr£ta£ EffeffQ efJiTretpo- 
 
 TtpOl, 
 
 to which distinction of Tiureie does he recur, and through 
 which of the causes fpovriaie, dpeTrj, or evvoia,- does he endea- 
 vour to effect persuasion ? 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 What are the three questions which Aristotle proposes for 
 consideration in treating of the passions ? (Book II. ehap. i. 9.) 
 
 "With what view was this threefold division necessary ? 
 
 Is it possible to obtain tottol calculated for the excitement 
 of the passions without a knowledge of these three questions 
 proposed by Aristotle ? (Book II. chap. i. 9.) 
 
 Give the definition of anger. 
 
 Is this definition proposed as a otoixeIov from which the 
 roTTot are afterwards inferred ? 
 
 Does not Aristotle explain this definition by two proposi- 
 tions, viz. 
 
 1st. Anger is against some individual on account of con- 
 tempt to one's self or friends. 
 2nd. Pain is not so much the consequent of anger as a 
 certain pleasure ? 
 
 Explain the reference which these two explanatory propo- 
 sitions have to the definition of anger. 
 
 To what cause do you attribute the sensation of pain in 
 anger ? 
 
 To what causes (which are two) do you attribute the sensa- 
 tion of pleasure in anger ? 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 363 
 
 Can you give any other reasons why pleasure should be a 
 consequent? (Book I. chap. x. 17, 18; chap. xi. 10, 12, 13.) 
 
 Could you infer a reason from the definition of fiSovri in the 
 first book ? 
 
 Is the j; opyif a generic or specific term ? 
 
 Under what generic term do you class the 7; opyr) ? 
 
 What is the object of anger ? 
 
 What is the cause of anger ? 
 
 How'many species of the oXiyMpia are there ? 
 
 Does not Aristotle prove that the KurafpofriaiQ is a species 
 of dXiywpia from the definition of oXiyiopia ? 
 
 Do you consider the eirripeaiTfioQ to be a distinct species of 
 oXiywpia ? 
 
 Explain how Aristotle from its own definition proves the 
 lTrripea(7fj6e to be a distinct species of 6\iy<opia. 
 
 Is slight attended with a certain pleasure ? 
 
 You have before stated in reply to questions in the former 
 book, that all actions done by men IcoiTtc are dyada. f/ <j>air6- 
 ftcva dyaBa, ^ {jSia rj (jiaivoixcva r/tia : can you show that if the 
 dXtyojp/a be a voluntary act, it must be consequently r;Su ?) 
 ipaivofjievov ri^v ? 
 
 Why should it not be dyaBov rj (paivofiEvov dyadov ? (Book 
 I. chap. X. 18.) 
 
 To what cause do you attribute the pleasure which the 6 
 vfipli^iov feels ? 
 
 How then are men afiTected when they feel anger ? 
 
 With what kind of persons do they feel angry ? 
 
 What are the causes of this passion ? 
 
 What is it incumbent on the orator to prove, to excite an- 
 ger against his adversary ? 
 
 What kind of person must he prove his adversary to be, to 
 merit anger ? 
 
 When ^schines uses the following arguments in his ora- 
 tion against Ctesiphon, does he endeavour to excite anger 
 against Demosthenes ? and by which of the causes oXiyupla, 
 or its species, does he endeavour to excite it against his ad- 
 versary ? 
 
 Aevrepoy 2e Kal ttoXv tovtov jieil^ov dSUrifia -^SiKriacv, on to 
 PovXevriipiov to Trjg ttoXewj Kal Tijt' IrfjiOKpaTiav cipSjjc £Xa6£V 
 v^tXojXEVOQ icai /itTriveyKev ue 0q/3ac tie TrjV KaS/itiav, Tftv 
 KOivwyiav tuiv irpa.^Eii)}' to'iq Boiwrap^ats avvBifitvoq' Kal ttjXi- 
 
364 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 KavTYjv avroQ avT^ ^vvaarclav KiiTttrKtvaaev, &aT' rfit] irapiuyv ivl 
 TO ^rjfia Trpeafievcreiv fxev eipr] oiroi av alrw 2oic^, Kaj* fir) vjxti^ 
 eKirifiTrriTe, d Si rig avra twv (rrparriywv diTEtVoi, KaradovXov- 
 fievos ToiiQ ap^ovras Kai (TvycdiZuiv fir^Sev aurw avTiKiyttv SiaSi- 
 Katriav ediij ypcf\peiv tS> prifiaTi Trpoc ro arparriyeloV TrXEioj yap 
 Vficig ayadcL id)' kavToii 'i<^ri airo rov piifiaTOQ Trevovdivai r; ijro 
 Tuiv aTparrtyuiy tK tov trTparriyewv. /nadofopiiv S' ev rw ^evuca 
 KevaXg ^wpaic, koi to arpaTiwriKh \pr]fiaTa KXtVrwv, Koi tovq 
 fivpiovQ i,evovQ kKjXiaQioaaQ ' Ajxi^iaatvai TtoWa. hiafiapTvpOfiivov 
 KoX ffj^trXiafojTOC kv toIq eKK\r}aiaig ifioii, -Trpoaifiile (jtiptov avap- 
 TraadivTuiv riov i,€vijiv tov kU'Svvov inrapaaKcvu tt) iroXti. ti yap 
 av otEffSe i/XiTTTTOj' tv Tole TOTe /caipotj Ev^aadai ; ov xotpig fjtev 
 Trpog Tr\v voXiTiKifv Siivajxiv %i>>pi-Q 2' iv 'AfKpiairri Trpoc Toig 
 ^cvove Siaywviaaffdai, adiifiovQ Se roue "EXXTjyae Xafieiv TrjXtKav- 
 Trie TrXriyfje yiyevrjfiivriQ ; Kal ttJXikovtimiv KaKwv a'iTioc yeyevrj- 
 fiivoQ ^rifXOaQivriQ ovK ayuTr^i u jxrj ZiKr\v ZiZiaxEV, aXX' £i /irl mi 
 •^vaS (Trefavo) (TTe(j>avii>8riireTat dyavaKTEi' ouS' taavov ioTiv awrw 
 ivavTWV vfiHv KripvTTerrOai, dXX' el firj riov 'EXXj)i'(i)i' ivavTwv 
 dvappridri(TtTat, tovt' iiSr] dyavanTel. ovto)C, O) koiKt, TTOvripa fiaiQ 
 fiEydXriQ i^ovaiag kTnXa(iofikvrj drifiocriag air&pyai^eTai uvfKpopas, 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 As the fi Tpaiivng is the contrary to the ri dpyij, and the 
 TOTTOL are therefore inferred ratione contrariorum, it will be 
 necessary to propose many questions on this chapter. 
 
 What is the definition of the >; Trpdvvaig ? 
 
 You stated in reply to a former question, that pain and 
 pleasure were consequent to the ra irdQr) and arjfitla of the 
 fl jiovXr](ng, (chap, iv.) but are they both consequent to the 
 ^ irpavving, and which is the arijiCiov of the jiovXriaig in this 
 passion ? 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 What is the definition of the to ^iXtiv ? 
 Can you infer from this definition that a friend is perceived 
 from the indications of the ^ (iovXrtcrig ? 
 
 What are the trrincia of the ri fiovXriatg ? (3.) 
 How many species of the v (piXta are there ? (28.) 
 What are the causes which give occasion to the fi ^I'Xta ? 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 365 
 
 What is the difference between the i] opyrj and the fi exSpi ? 
 
 How many differences does Aristotle enumerate ? 
 
 How many, and what are the causes of the j; e)(dpa which 
 Aristotle enumerates ? (30.) 
 
 You have stated that the ^ dpyq is felt on account of the 
 f] 6\iyb)pia and its species ; but if a man is habitually addicted 
 to the ii dXiywpia and its species, are our sentiments those of 
 the j; opyri Or fi ^X^P" ' 
 
 Do anger and hatred ever differ with respect to the objects 
 against whom they are felt ? (xxxi. line 3, 4.) 
 
 Can you class both these passions under the genus opi^etQ 
 aXoyoi ? 
 
 Does the sensation of the r; Xvirri accompany the Exflpa ? 
 (xxxi. line 10.) 
 
 Which of the two passions, the fi opyi] and the ^ e'x^P"; ^oes 
 Aristotle consider as incurable ? 
 
 You stated in a former chapter that the ^ rifiiDpia was the 
 object of the i; opyrj, what is the object of the j^ tx^P" ' (x^^- 
 line 6.) 
 
 What kind of person will an orator describe his adversary 
 to be, when he endeavours to excite feelings of hatred against 
 him in his auditors ? 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Give the definition of the 6 </)(5/3oc. 
 
 Does it follow from this definition that all the to. KaKa are 
 the objects of the 6 ^d/3oc ? 
 
 What kind of evils then excite the 6 fofios ? 
 
 Is it absolutely necessary for the sensation of the 6 fofios 
 that the evil should be close at hand ? 
 
 Can you mention any circumstances, or characters in life, 
 which excite the 6 ^d/3oc in others ? (vii. et seq.) 
 
 What is the reason that men are not afraid of such evils as 
 death ? 
 
 Am I to understand that some hope of safety is essential in 
 the sensation of the o cjiofiog ? (xiv.) 
 
 Is deliberation also esseiltial in the sensation of the 6 i^d/3os ? 
 
 If the Ta KaKci be of such a description as to annihilate all 
 hope of safety, and prevent all deliberation in the sufferer, 
 what is the to Trados which under such circumstances is felt ? 
 
365 .ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 In what chief respects do the sensations of the 6 fojiog and 
 
 70 Selvov differ ? 
 
 Do I understand you to say, " In the feeling of hope and 
 anxiety, and excitement of deliberation, which accompany the 
 one, but are annihilated in the other ? " 
 
 Do they differ also in any other remarkable respect ? (chap. 
 V. 12, line 4; chap. viii. 13, line 4.) 
 
 Do I understand you to say, " In the sensation of the 6 £\eoc 
 if the TO. Kam were to happen to others and not to ourselves ? " 
 
 Is the difference discoverable in the case of Amasis ? 
 
 Give the definition of the to Bappeiv, 
 
 What is the twofold division which Aristotle makes of the 
 men who feel the to Sapaog ? (xviii.) 
 
 What illustration does Aristotle give in support of this dis- 
 tinction? 
 
 To which of the three species of oration do you consider 
 appeals to the 6 <l>6j3oe most peculiar ? 
 
 Give me a reason why you consider them most peculiar to 
 the eidoe avfj.j3ov\evTiKov. (Confer Book I. chap. iii. 4, with the 
 definition of the 6 (^o/3oc.) 
 
 In which of the three species do you consider appeals to the 
 
 71 dpyi), 6 fdoyoe, and 6 eXeoQ, most likely to occur ? 
 
 Does Aristotle approve of such appeals to the 6 Su-aurqc ? 
 (Book i. chap. i. 5.) 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Give the definition of the at(rxwv»). 
 
 Do only acts of depravity, or do the arnieia of such specific 
 vices as illiberality, flattery, &c., ever excite the ^i ala'j(yvri ? 
 Give me a arj^eiov of the i} KoXaKua ? 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Give the definition of the ^ x^P'f • 
 
 Has this word two distinct significations ? (vide Schrader 
 Annotationes.) 
 
 Which of these two significations is expressive of the to 
 TrdQoc ? 
 
 With what view does Aristotle explain the ^ x"P'£ ^^ ™' 
 plying gratuitous benevolence ? 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 367 
 
 Is it for the purpose of showing how it may be amplified ? 
 
 What division of the ai dpe^etg does Aristotle make in this 
 chapter ? (iii.) 
 
 To which division do you consider such iirSv^iai as hun- 
 ger and thirst belong ? 
 
 Is it necessary that the party benefited must be kv -y Toiavrri 
 Set) (ret to constitute the j; x°P'S ' 
 
 Is it necessary that the party benefiting should assist the 
 other iv T7J TOLavTTi xpcia. ? 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Give the definition of the o 'iXeog. 
 
 What kind of persons are most sensible of the o eXtoc ? 
 
 What reason does Aristotle give that the ol iravTtXSe avo- 
 JlwXorec do not feel the 6 iXcoe ? 
 
 Why do not the ol vwEpEvSai/jLovciv oio/ievot feel the 6 tXeoc ? 
 
 What reason does Aristotle give that the ol oyree iv opyrj ?/ 
 tappet do not feel the o e\eo<; ? (vi.) 
 
 Can you give another reason drawn from the definition of 
 the fj opyjj and 6 eXeoc ? 
 
 Can you class the »; opyrj and 6 eXeog under the genus ope^eie 
 aXoyoi ? 
 
 What kind of persons do men pity ? 
 
 Give me a reason why you except the <r^oSpa Eyyie Jxriy 
 
 olKeLOTrjTl. 
 
 In what respects do the to Stivov and 6 tXcog differ ? (xii.) 
 Can you give a reason why certain characters, when repre- 
 sented on the stage, excite pity ? 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 What passion is directly opposed to the 6 'iXeog ? 
 
 Can you class the f/ vEfieaig and 6 eXeoc under the same 
 genus of the ra TraQ-q ? 
 
 What is the logical difference which when added to the 
 generic term, gives the specific terms j; vintaiQ and 6 cXeos ? 
 (i. line 4.) 
 
 Does not Aristotle define the ri vifieaiQ and 6 ^Boyos by a 
 comparison of each with the o 'iXeoc ? 
 
368 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 Do you consider the f] vifieaic and 6 tXeoe to proceed from 
 the same virtuous dispositions ? (otto tov uvtov rjdovQ.) 
 
 If they do not proceed from the same virtuous dispositions, 
 could they be classed under the same genus of the to. wadri ? 
 
 Is the 6 (pdovoe opposed in a measure only, or does it differ 
 entirely from the 6 eXeoe ? 
 
 In what respects do they agree, and in what differ ? 
 
 Can you infer that the opposite feelings are consequent to 
 these passions ? 
 
 What is the opposite feeling and consequent to the 6 fdome ? 
 
 What is the opposite feeling and consequent to the 6 tXtos ? 
 
 Do you consider that the 6 (pBoyog and rj vEfiiaiQ dispossess 
 us of pity ? 
 
 What kind of person must the orator show his adversary 
 to be, when he wishes to excite indignation against him in his 
 auditor ? 
 
 Can you infer from its definition that the ri vifiEOLQ is felt at 
 the virtues ? (viii.) 
 
 You have stated that the ^ vificaiQ and the o eXeoc are di- 
 rectly opposed to each other, and are under the same genus ; 
 can you infer therefore, that if the it vifietne is not felt at the 
 virtues, the 6 'iXeog is not felt at the vices of others ? 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Give the definition of the 6 <j>66vog. 
 
 What are the three distinct parts in this definition, which 
 should be distinguished, to obtain a clear understanding of 
 
 the TOTTOl ? 
 
 When Aristotle says that such persons are likely to feel 
 envy as have equals, from which part of the definition does 
 he infer this tottos ? 
 
 What kind of a person must an orator represent his adver- 
 sary to be when he wishes to excite the 6 fdovoe in the judge ? 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Give the definition of the 6 ^rjXoe. 
 
 Does the 6 l^ijXoe differ from the 6 (pdoi'os ? 
 
 In what respects do they differ ? 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 369 
 
 Can the 6 l^ijXos be felt at the vices of others ? 
 
 To what genus of the ra iradri does the 6 i^fjXoe- belong ? 
 (i. line 5.) 
 
 Is the fi Karafpovrjaie opposed only, or is it the contrary to 
 the 6 ^fjXoe ? 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Why is it necessary that an orator should consider the ra 
 liQri of his auditors in reference to their passions, habits, ages, 
 and fortunes ? 
 
 Does Aristotle use the expression ra r\dr) as implying only 
 a certain disposition peculiar to men at a certain time of life, 
 or as implying the al e^eis, or the virtues and vices ? 
 
 Are the ra rjQr) the effects, or are they only consequent to 
 the at riXUiai and rv'^^ai of men ? 
 
 You have stated that the orator should consider the ra rjfl?) 
 of his auditors in reference to their passions, habits, &c. ; un- 
 der which of the three distinctions of irt'oTEic would you place 
 this part of Rhetoric ? (vide Riccobon in cap. xii. hujus libri.) 
 
 Do you consider that, when Aristotle treats of the ra vadri, 
 al e^eie, and ra ijdri, he considers them to have a relation to 
 the three species of oration ? 
 
 You stated in reply to a question in the former book, that 
 the ai riXiKiai and rtix«' of ™en were not the true causes of ac- 
 tions, but when added to the true causes, give additional weight 
 to an argument in judicial inquiry, (vide Book I. chap, x.) do 
 you consider that the orator should adapt his oration to the 
 7-a i^drj of his auditors in reference to their passions, habits, 
 &c., in the demonstrative and judicial species ? 
 
 What, generally speaking, are the ra rjdr] consequent to 
 youth and old age ? 
 
 What are the ra ^dti consequent to the middle-aged ? 
 
 Why does Aristotle treat of the ra rjdri of the young and 
 old before thope of the middle-aged ? 
 
 What, generally speaking, are the ra rjdri of the noble, the 
 rich, and the powerful ' ? 
 
 * For a distinct enumeration of tlie tcl rjdij as far as the seventeenth 
 chapter, the reader is referred to Hobbes' Brief, as a distinct exposition 
 ■would swell these questions to an unnecessary length. 
 
 2 B 
 
370 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 What reason does Aristotle adduce in this chapter for his 
 treating of the to. i\Qri ? 
 
 Did Aristotle treat of any ijQri in the first book of Rhetoric ? 
 
 Why did he treat of the rb. i]dr) Kara rciQ iroXiTElaQ in the 
 first book ? 
 
 Of the TOTOL TTtpi ivvaruiv Koi aSvvaTwv do you consider the 
 TO yeyovoQ and to kaofievov both equally applicable to the 
 judicial and deliberative species of orations ? 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 The reader is referred to Hobbes' Brief for an exposition 
 of the Towoi in this chapter. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 Are the irapalciyjia and cvOvfirina common to all the species 
 of oration ? 
 
 As Ai-istotle says that the irapadetyfia is like induction, ex- 
 plain in what points they resemble, and in what they differ, 
 (vide Riccobon in cap. xx. hujus libri.) 
 
 How many distinctions of TrapaStiy/xa are there ? 
 
 Into how many species is the to aiiTov ttoieiv, or matter in- 
 vented by the orator, subdivided ? 
 
 Explain what is meant by the species 7rapa/3oX?) ? 
 
 When Cicero, in his oration against Catiline, says, — " Quod 
 si ex tanta latrocinio iste unus toUetur ; videbimur fortasse 
 ad breve quoddam tempus cura et metu esse relevati ; pericu- 
 lum autem residebit, et erit inclusum penitus in venis atque 
 visceribus reipublicae. Ut saBpe homines segri morbo gravi 
 cum Kstu febrique jactantur, si aquam gelidam biberint, primo 
 relevare videntur ; delude multo gravius vehementiusque af- 
 flictantur ; sic hie morbus, qui est in republica, relevatus istius 
 poena vehementius, civibus reliquis,, ingravescet ; " is this a 
 irapa/ioXri or Xoyog ? 
 
 When Agrippa Menenius says, " Tempore, quo in homine, 
 non, ut nunc, omnia in unum consentiebant, sed singulus 
 membris suum cuique consilium, suus sermo fuerat, indignatas 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 371 
 
 reliquas partes, sua cura, suo labore ac ministerio ventri om- 
 nia quEeri : ventrem, in medio quietum, nihil aliud, quam datis 
 voluptatibus frui ; conspirasse inde, ne manus ad os cibum 
 ferrent, nee os acciperet datum, nee dentes conficerent. Hac 
 ira, dum ventrem fame domare vellent, ipsa una membra to- 
 tumque corpus ad extremam tabem venisse. Inde apparuisse, 
 ventris quoque baud segne ministerium esse : nee magis ali, 
 quam alere eum, reddentem in omnes corporis partes hunc, 
 quo vivimus vigemusque, divisum pariter in venas maturum, 
 confecto cibo, sanguinem. Is this a TrapafioXfj or \6yoe ? 
 
 Which of the two distinctions of the irapaSuyfia do you 
 consider most persuasive in deliberative oratory ? 
 
 If the orator has not enthymems at command, how does 
 Aristotle recommend him to use the TrapaSeiy/xa ? 
 
 But if the orator has both enthymems and examples at 
 command, which does he recommend should be placed before 
 the other? 
 
 In the passage quoted from Cicero does he follow Aristotle's 
 precept or not ? 
 
 Why is the TrapaStiy/ia and its species, when placed before 
 the enthymems, little adapted to a speech ? 
 
 What advantage is gained by placing the irapaSeiyixa after 
 the enthymem ? 
 
 In placing the wapdhiyfia after the enthymem will one be 
 a sufficient proof, or are several requisite ? 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 Grive the definition of the jj yviifir). 
 
 Are the conclusions of enthymems ever yvoifxai ? 
 
 How many subaltern genera of the jj yvw/ijj are there ? 
 
 Into how many species is the subaltern genus avtv eniXoyov 
 subdivided ? 
 
 Into how many species is the other subaltern genus fitr' 
 kwiXoyov subdivided ? 
 
 Explain what kind of yvw^ai those are which require not 
 the annexation of the tiriXoyoe- 
 
 Explain what kind of yvw/xai those are which require the 
 annexation of the eviXoyoe. 
 
 You have stated that each subaltern genus is subdivided 
 into two species ; would you be correct in saying that the 
 2 B 2 
 
372 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 1st species of the subaltern genus (avev e-mXoyov) require 
 not the annexation of the k-rrlXoyoi, because they were 
 understood before uttered ; and that the ^ 
 
 2nd species of the same subaltern genus require not the 
 annexation of the evlXoyoe, because they are under- 
 stood as soon as uttered ; and that the 
 3rd species of the subaltern genus {fier tirtXdyoi/) are 
 
 parts of enthymems : and that the 
 4th species of the same subaltern genus are essentially 
 enthymems, and have the eTriXoyos as it were inserted 
 in them ? 
 What division does Aristotle make with respect to the use 
 of yvwfiai ? (i.) 
 
 On dubious and incredible subjects, which of the above 
 species does Aristotle recommend to be used ? 
 
 On subjects not altogether incredible, but obscure, which of 
 the above species does he recommend to be used ? (vi. a'l I' 
 tvdvfxrifj.an Kal fiiv.) 
 
 We now come to the third ' use of yvuifiai (riaiv dpfioTret) : 
 is the use of yvwfiai equally suited to all ages and conditions 
 of persons ? 
 
 Ought yvwfiai not universally true to be indiscriminately 
 used in every part of a speech ? 
 
 In what occasions then should yv&nai of this description 
 only be used, and ought they to have the i-a-iXoyog ? 
 
 Are yvwfiai which are generally admitted to be true, ad- 
 missible in every part of a speech ? 
 
 Are the yi'wjuat which contravene current sayings (jrapa ra 
 SeST)lj.o(Ti.EvfiEvaie) equally admissible in every part of a speech ? 
 On what occasions then is it fit that they should be used ? 
 (xiii.) ■ 
 
 How will the to ijdoe be made to appear piXnov ? 
 Do I understand you to say " by being manifested in the 
 diction, or by annexing the reason for the received opinion?" 
 What advantages does the use of yvw/nat contribute to the 
 orator ? 
 
 When the orator washes to give his speech an air of moral 
 character by the use of ypw/jai, what principle must he mani- 
 fest ? 
 
 ' Aristotle has treated of the t/o-iv ipfioTTci first, in violation of his 
 proposed arrangement in the beginning of the chapter. 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 373 
 
 In the- following quotation from Demosthenes Trepl tov 
 Xrefdvov is there a yvwfiri ? 
 
 'AXX' oil Sta ravTa irpoelvTO TOve KaTa(j)evyovraQ e<k tavrovg, 
 dW inrep tvSo^iag Kal Ttfifjs fjdeXov to'iq iuvolq avTOvg SiSovai, 
 opdUg Kai KokSg fiovkevojxtvoi. iripag jxkv yap &Trainv avOpwiroiQ 
 C(TTt TOV (iiov Sdi'aroe, Kav kv otKt'o'KW 7ie aurov Kadeip^ag rripy' 
 Se~i Se TovQ ayadovg civjpas lyj^cipeTv ficv onraaiv iitl to'iq koKo'ic, 
 Trjv ayadflv wpofiaWoiiivovs tXiriSa, <j>ipEiv h' 6 ti av b BeoQ SiS^ 
 ytvvaiu)Q, 
 
 To which species does it belong, and why does it not re- 
 quire the annexation of the tTrj'Xoyos ? 
 
 CHAP. XXII. XXIII. XXIV. 
 
 The reader is referred to Hobbes' Brief on the subject of 
 these chapters. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. XXVI. 
 
 You stated in reply to a question in the first book, that the 
 iriarciQ Sia tov delicvvadai, &c., were divided into two species, 
 kvdvfirjfia and wapaStiyixa : what subdivision does Aristotle 
 make of the ivQiifirtfia in the second book? (Book II. chap. 
 xxii. 14.) 
 
 How many modes of the ij Xiiaic, or solution of arguments, 
 are there ? 
 
 Explain the difierent methods of starting an objection. 
 
 How is an iIkoq solvable ? 
 
 How is a irnpaZuyfia solvable ? 
 
 How is a TeKfxripiov solvable ? 
 
 How is a iTTjfieiov solvable ? 
 
 What reason does Aristotle give for not considering the to 
 av^eiv Kal fitiovv as roTroi Evdvfiri/iaToe ? 
 
 How is a solution of them effected ? 
 
ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 
 
 BOOK III.— CHAP. I. 
 
 What importance does Aristotle ascribe to the Xi^ig in rhe- 
 toric ? 
 
 Does he ascribe any importance to the vTroKpiatc ? 
 
 In what does he consider it to consist ? (iv.) 
 
 But why does he treat only of the Xe'^ic when he ascribes 
 importance to the v-jroKpiiriQ ? (vi. and vii.) 
 
 Does he make any distinction between the style of poetry 
 and orations ? 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Define the Xi^zuQ aperrj, or excellence of style. 
 
 It seems that Aristotle in this definition notes two things 
 as conducive to the Xt'^ewc aperfi, viz. to araiprj duai and wpi- 
 Tovcrav ; how are these attained in style ? (ii. iii. and iv.) 
 
 Why does Aristotle object to the too frequent use of 
 yXiirroij or exotic words, Tevoififievotg or newly-coined words, 
 and S('7r\oic or compound words ? 
 
 Is the orator obliged to confine himself to the use of the 
 Kvpia or words in common use, or is he at liberty to use the 
 other species occasionally ? 
 
 What advantage does the use of the Kvpia contribute to 
 style ? 
 
 What advantage does the use of the yXwrratf, &c. con- 
 tribute to style when sparingly used ? 
 
ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS. 375 
 
 "When Aristotle says that in the use of ornament we should 
 seek to escape observation, and avoid a studied manner, what 
 would he the consequence of the neglect of this twofold pre- 
 cept ? (iv.) 
 
 Does Aristotle lay great stress on the proper use of appro- 
 priate metaphors in an oration ? 
 
 For the selection of metaphors what precepts does Aristotle 
 give? (ix. xii. xiii.) 
 
 From what sources theu are appropriate metaphors de- 
 duced ? (xiii.) 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 What nouns does Aristotle mention as contributing to a 
 frigid style ? 
 
 When do epithets render an oration frigid ? 
 
 Is the too frequent use of appropriate epithets appi'oved 
 by Aristotle ? 
 
 When do you conceive a metaphor and epithet unbecom- 
 ing ? (chap. ii. 9.) 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 In what respect dpes the e'lKtov diiFer from the lierafopa ? 
 
 Why does Aristotle caution the orator against the too fre- 
 quent use of the e'lKiSjv ? 
 
 Can the fjierafopa be enunciated as the tifcwv, and the elKa)v 
 as fizTa<popa ? 
 
 How would you change a fieTa(l>opa to an eiKu>v ? 
 
 On what principle . must the ekibv be constructed to be 
 appropriate ? 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 In what does excellence of style (Xejewe dperri) consist ? 
 
 On what does purity of style (to IXXjjvif tiv) depend ? 
 
 Do I understand you to say the first consists in the proper 
 use of words, and the latter in their clear and proper arrange- 
 ment? 
 
 Why does Aristotle distinguish the ro kWrivii^eiv, (chap, v.) 
 the oyKoe, (chap, vi.) and the to Trpiwov, (chap, vii.) from the 
 TO axVjJ-a TJjs Xi^eaie ? (chap, viii.) 
 
376 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS 
 
 Do I understand you to say, because the first are essential 
 to style, or by which it becomes calculated to effect per- 
 suasion, and the latter only accidental to style, or contributing 
 to give it elegance and beauty ? 
 
 CHAP VI. 
 How is elevation of style (o oyKoc) attained ? 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 When will the to irpiirov, or becoming in style, be attained ? 
 
 You say that the to irpiwov in style will be attained, if it 
 be passionate, expressive of moral character, and suited to the 
 subject ; what do you mean by the to ^Ooq Xt'^Ewe ? (vide 
 Annotationes vii. 6. Vater.) 
 
 "When Aristotle treats of the to ^Boq -in style, do you con- 
 sider the TO ^doQ Xe^eue as belonging to the Iv rw fidei tov 
 \iynvTOQ, one of the distinctions of iriaTUQ in the first book ? 
 
 In treating of the -n-iariq j;9(kj) in the second book, and 
 again in this book, on the subject of style, explain the three- 
 fold manner in which Aristotle has treated of this distinction 
 of irlaTtiQ. (vide Riccobon in Lib. II. cap. i. p. 153, and Lib. 
 III. cap. vii. p. 246.) 
 
 When Aristotle says the style is becoming when adapted 
 to the E^Eie, what meaning do you attach to the word eJeic ? 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 What precepts does Aristotle give on the to ajQijJta- Tijs 
 Xi^eoiQ ? 
 
 How many species of the 6 pvdfxoe does Aristotle mention ? 
 
 Of these, which is the only one, out of which it is impos- 
 sible to construct any metre, and therefore appropriate ? 
 
 Which of the two species of Pasans is most proper for the 
 commencement and the conclusion of a speech ? 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Define the Xe'Jic elpofiEvri and KaTeaTpafifiivr). 
 How many species of the nEpioSog are there ? 
 In treating of the to axri^a TriQ Xe'Jewc what division does 
 Aristotle make ? 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 377 
 
 How many distinctions of the to ay^^fia rije Xe'Jtwc are there ? 
 Which of these is the most proper for orations ? 
 How many species of the irtpi'oSoc are there ? 
 What do you mean by a irepiodog dfeXfie ? 
 Of the jTEpt'oSoc which consists of clauses, what subdistinc- 
 tion does Aristotle make ? (7. 9.) 
 
 What is meant by the vaplawaiQ and TragofioiwaiQ ? 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Does the invention of the dart'ia and evSoKifioivra.ot style 
 belong to rhetoric ? 
 
 What reason can you give from the first book of rhetoric 
 that they do not? (Book I. chap, ii.) 
 
 Which do you consider are the most approved darcia and 
 evZoKifiovvra of Style ? 
 
 Why are the simile and metaphor most approved ? 
 
 Can you infer from Aristotle's general inference that " those 
 beauties and elegancies of style are most approved which are 
 the quickest in communicating information," any particular 
 rule for the selection of evflu/i^^ara or arguments ? 
 
 In treating of such dareia as metaphor, simile, enthymem, 
 and antithesis, why has Aristotle treated of antithesis as be- 
 longing to the TO axVH"- '^Ve Xijewe, and the others kutcl rfiv 
 Sidvoiav tov \tyofiivov ? (chap. ii. 6 ; ix. 7.) 
 
 Enumerate the dirrrTa with which the orator should seek to 
 grace his speech. 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 How does metaphor difier from personification ? 
 
 You have stated that such metaphors are most approved as 
 are not too obvious ; how will an orator avoid this fault in 
 the selection of his metaphors, and at the same time render 
 them more approved? (vi.) 
 
 When will a sentence be more elegant ? 
 
 Do I understand you to say in proportion as it contains a 
 greater number of these ornaments ? 
 
 Are hyperboles and proverbs ever metaphors ? 
 
 Do these contribute to the elegance of a sentence ? 
 
378 ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 - Does the use of hyperbole become the young as well as the 
 old'? 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 What distinction of style does Aristotle first make when he 
 wishes to ascertain the kind of style most adapted to each spe- 
 cies of oration ? 
 
 How many species of the \ilie a.yo>viaTiKri are there ? 
 
 To which species of oration are the Xilig ijdiKr) and tTadrtTkri 
 most adapted ? 
 
 Which of the two species of oration, the judicial or deli- 
 berative, require the greatest accuracy of style ? 
 
 Does the Xe'^ic aywytcrrt/o? suit the demonstrative species ? 
 
 Is nicety and precision essential in the judicial species, and 
 what is the objection to too great nicety and precision in the 
 deliberative species ? 
 
 ' However ready we may be to acknowledge the wondeiful acuteness 
 and subtlety of Aristotle's mind, in unfolding tlie who^e art of rhetoric, 
 his judgment of true wit, from the samples afforded in this chapter, con- 
 vinces us, that he was a more profound philosopher than agreeable com- 
 panion. We have therefore, perhaps prudently, refrained from noticing 
 the witty applications of metaphor and hyperbole, which he has made, as 
 some general questions on the Xt'fis will be subsequently introduced. 
 
GENERAL QUESTIONS 
 
 SECOND PART OF RHETORIC. 
 
 In treating of the Xe'Sic does Aristotle propose to consider first 
 its nature and the matter of which it is formed ? 
 In doing this does he consider, 
 
 1st. The matter of which it is composed as words ; 
 2nd. Its forms — of which one is the essential or modifi- 
 cation of the matter, by which it becomes adapted to 
 its purpose of effecting persuasion ; and another, which 
 is the accidental, or the figure, or modification of the 
 matter, by which it becomes adapted to its purpose of 
 pleasing the ear : 
 3rd. Of the ifurelov, or introduction of metaphor, apo- 
 thegm, and wit ? 
 Aristotle has hitherto treated of the nature of style and its 
 modifications; what does he secondly, and lastly, propose to 
 consider ? 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Enumerate the to. fiep-q of orations. 
 
 Why does Aristotle object to more than the irpodeiris and 
 TTiVnc ? 
 
 How many and what are the to. fieprj which Aristotle 
 treats of ? 
 
 Why has he treated of them when he set out with object- 
 ing to them ? 
 
380 GENERAL QUESTIONS 
 
 To which of the species of oration is the Si^yjjo-ic peculiar ? 
 
 Does the deliberative species always require as many parts 
 as the judicial ? and which are the parts which it does not 
 require ? 
 
 When does it require the irpooifiiov (xiv. 11) avriirapa/ioX^ 
 and ETrdvo^oQ ? 
 
 Is the tTTiXoyoe always necessary in the judicial species ? 
 
 Of how many parts will a judicial oration delivered by an 
 accuser be composed ? ■ , 
 
 Under which of these parts is the to. ?rpoc avriSiKov or re- 
 futation, and the avrnrapafioXri or contrast of arguments, in- 
 cluded when the oration is delivered by an accused ? 
 
 "Why should they not be included in the Tpooifitov or £«'- 
 Xoyoc ? (4.) 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 G-ive the defipition of izpooijiiov. 
 
 From what sources are the Trpooi/xia in the demonstrative 
 species drawn ? (2.) 
 
 What ought to be the chief object of a judicial irpooifiwv ? (6.) 
 
 From what sources are judicial Trpooifiia drawn ? 
 
 Who is most likely to draw the matter of his wpooi/xiov k 
 Tov XiyovToe — the accuser or accused ? 
 
 Turn to the oration against Verres (Act. Sec. Lib. iii.) and 
 tell me from which of the sources Cicero's exordium is drawn. 
 
 In which of the parts of a judicial oration, delivered by an 
 accused, would the orator be most likely to have recourse to 
 
 the ■KitTTElQ Iv tS i]dEl TOV XlfOVTOQ ? 
 
 Are they admissible in all parts ? 
 
 In which part of the oration does the accuser introduce the 
 r'a vpoQ SiajSoXfiv ? 
 
 What is the objection to their being mentioned in the irpo- 
 oijxwv ? 
 
 In which part of the oration does the accused reply to the 
 rii wpoQ ^ta/BoXi/v ? 
 
 What is the orator's object when his Trpooifiiov is drawn k 
 TOV aKpoaTOv ? (7.) 
 
 Does the deliberative species always require the Trpooi/xwv? 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 381 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 The reader is referred to Hobbes' Brief for the to-koi on 
 this chapter. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 What kind of li{]yr)(jiQ does Aristotle prefer in the demon- 
 strative species of oration ? 
 
 May the proof and amplification be blended in this species ? 
 (vide Riccobon in cap. xvi. hujus libri.) 
 
 What is the objection to a continuous Si^yjjo-iE (t^E^^c) in 
 this species ? 
 
 In a judicial oration should the diriytjme be Ife^fjs or Kara 
 fiipoQ ? 
 
 What matter does the accuser naturally relate in his Siri- 
 yjjo-ts ? (iv. line 6.) 
 
 How does the diriyrimc of an accused differ from an ac- 
 cuser's ? 
 
 VThat relation is there between the S()jy»)(7is and the TrhriQ ' ? 
 
 On what points should an accused refrain from dwelling, 
 and when should both the accuser and the accused dilate on 
 circumstances in the itfiyr]<7ig ? (8.) 
 
 Is it of consequence to the orator to vest himself with 
 moral character, and to adapt his SiJjyTjo-ts to the iriaTie, in 
 order that the one may support the other. 
 
 Is it of consequence to the orator to vest himself with mo- 
 ral character, (7,) and ought he to do this at the commence- 
 ment of his Siriyrj(ng ? (10.) 
 
 ' Quoniam narratio est rerum explicatio, et qusedam quasi sedes ac 
 fimdamentum constituendse fidei, ea sunt in ea servanda maxime, quae 
 etiam in reliquis dicendi partibus, quae partim sunt necessaria, partim as- 
 sumta ad omandum. 
 
 Nam ut dilucide probabiliterque narremus, necessarium est ; sed 
 assumimus etiam suavitatem. Probabilis autem narratio erit, si personis, 
 si temporibus, si locis ea, quae narrabuntur, consentient ; si cujusque facti 
 et erenti causa ponetur, si testata dici videbimtur, si cum hominum opi- 
 nione, auctoritate, si cum lege, cum more, cum religione conjuncta, si 
 probitas narrantis significabitur, si antiquitas, si memoria, si orationis 
 Veritas, et vitae fides. Suavis autem narratio est, quae habet admira- 
 tiones, exitus inopinatos, interpositos motus animorum, coUoquia person- 
 arum, dolores, iracundias, metus, laetitias, cupiditates. Cicero, de Orator. 
 Partit. 
 
382 GENERAL QUESTIONS 
 
 Does the deliberative species of orations require a di-tiyriais ? 
 
 When is a Si^yijirte used in this species ? 
 
 When it is used has it the resemblance to the TrapaSetyfia ? 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 What are the four questions for proof in an accuser's ora- 
 tion ? 
 
 Has the Sijjyrjffis previously prepared the judge ? 
 Can you repeat the division which Aristotle made of 
 LyKkijfiara in the first book, (chap. xiii. 7,) and reconcile it 
 with the questions to be proved by an accused as stated in 
 this chapter, viz. 
 
 either on oh ylyovev 
 or oTi ovi: ipXaPe 
 or (in ovToaovSe, rj on SiKalwQ ? 
 
 Suppose the accuser charges the accused with a deliberative 
 injury, what cause will he assign for the action done ? (Book 
 I. chap. 10.) 
 
 Suppose the accused is compelled by weight of testimony 
 to acknowledge the commission of the act and hurt done, but 
 denies the wpoaipecng : if he proved that the act was done jii] 
 hi avTov or 1^ dvayKrig, — would it be a refutation of the ac- 
 cuser'? (vide Book I. chap. x. 6.) 
 
 Suppose the accused acknowledges the act to have been 
 done, and that act to have been hurtful, but denies the 
 Trpoaipto-iC) on which points will he dwell in the refutation ? 
 
 What do you mean by refutation,^ and is the refutation in 
 a measure different from proof ? 
 
 What chiefly constitutes proof in the demonstrative spe- 
 cies ? (3.) 
 
 What species of the ■Triane Sea. rov SeiKwvat is mostly used 
 in the deliberative ? 
 
 ' Aut jure factum, depellendi aut ulsciscendi doloris gratia, aut pietatis, 
 aut pudicitiae, aut religionis, aut patriSB nomine, aut deni(jue necessitate, 
 inscitia, casu. Nam qua3 motu animi et perturbatione fa-cta sine rations 
 sunt, ea defensionem contra crimen, in legitimis judiciis, non habent, in 
 liberis disceptationibus habere possunt. Cic. Orat. Partit. 
 
 " Ea quEG ad fidem faciendam pertinent in confirmsitionem et reprehen- 
 sionem dividimtur. In confirmando nostra probare volumus ; in repre- 
 hendendo redarguere contraria. Quoniam igitur omne quod in contro- 
 versiam venit, id aut sit, necne sit, aut quid sit, aut quale sit, quseritur 
 prime conjectura, in altero definitio, in tertia ratio. Cic. Orat. Partit, 
 
ON ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 383 
 
 Do you recollect any precepts which Aristotle gives on the 
 use of enthymems as proofs ? 
 
 Why should they not be used when the orator seeks to ex- 
 cite the passions ? 
 
 Why should they not be used k<j>eC,ije, or in a continued 
 series ? 
 
 To which of the three distinctions of TlaTUQ in the first 
 book, and to which species does Aristotle reduce the ra irpbg 
 avriZiKOv ? 
 
 How is the refutation effected by enthymem ? (Book IL 
 chap. sxv. 1.) 
 
 Ought not an accuser to notice the objections which the 
 accused is likely to bring forward before he states his own ? 
 
 Why should he not, and when is a violation of this order 
 unobjectionable ? 
 
 Ought the accused to refute his adversary before intro- 
 ducing his own proofs ? 
 
 What reason can you assign for this order in the proof ? 
 
 Are yvwiiai admissible as proofs, and which species is the 
 best ? (Vide Book II. chap, xxi.) 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Can you mention any cases in which the orator may inter- 
 rogate with success ? 
 
 Is the ipuTTiing prudent on every question, and when is it 
 not? 
 
 What answer is the best to an equivocal ipwrj^aig ? 
 
 What distinction does Aristotle make between eipu>vtia and 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 What does the orator propose to do in the iTiXoyos ? 
 
 Why should an accuser prefer the k-n-iXoyoq to the other 
 parts of the oration, for exciting the passions and prejudices 
 of his audience against his adversary ? 
 
 Which part of the oration of an accused is opposed to the 
 iiriXoyoe of an accuser ? 
 
 In what kind of judicial cases will the dvajivrjaig be used 
 instead of to eIq rh TrdSrj tov aKpoarfjv KaraaTrjaai ? 
 
384 GENERAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 Will every case admit of the excitement of the passions in 
 the ETTiXoyos ? 
 
 What kind of cases require the excitement of anger, hatred, 
 and pity ? 
 
 Is it necessary to the excitement of anger in the emXoyoQ, 
 that the orator should show in the ■kIhtiq that his adversary 
 has acted with the oXiywpi'a and its species ? 
 
 Why is it ? 
 
 Do I understand you to say because these are the arof^ua 
 out of which anger is excited ? (vide Book II. chap, ii.) 
 
 Why does the conciliation of the hearer in the i-rc'CKoyot 
 naturally follow the Triarie ? 
 
 Why does amplification and extenuation naturally follow 
 the TO KarauKevauai ti tov aKpoar^v? 
 
 Should the di/dfivriene be long or brief ? 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 TO THE 
 
 ANALYSIS OF AEISTOTLE'S EHETOMC, 
 
 CONTAINING THE ORIGINAL DEFINITIONS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 I. — 1. Rhetokic corresponds with Logic, since afuporepai 
 ■srtpi TOtovTwv TLvQv titnv, a. Kotva. rpovov Tiva aTravTuiv ttrri 
 ■yvwpiffiv, KOL ovBcfJidc iTritrTi^ixris d(fiii)pi.iTfiivriQ. 
 
 2. But since men do it not only EiKrj, but also Sia awridciav, 
 airo e^Eoie, ur/ avaiiTO Kal oSottoieTc, and therefore r^v aWtav deto- 
 pilv IvSix^rai. Consequently, there must be an art of Rhetoric. 
 
 3. But previous writers have done but little towards it, for 
 al Triarug 'ivTe\v6v Lutl jxovoV to. 2' dWa irpotrQ^Kai, and they 
 have neglected enthymems, oirtp kari adiia ttjs ir/oTEuc. 
 
 4. But appeals to the passions, oh Trtpi roS w pay fiarog iariv, 
 
 5. dWct irpog Tov SiKaarriV which is unjust, and avoided by 
 the Areopagus. 
 
 6. The business of the pleader is only with the fact, on 
 trrnv rj ovk 'iariv, T; yiyovtv y\ oh yiyovtV not with the question 
 of its importance. 
 
 7. Laws would therefore be best, if they could mark out 
 {^iop'lZ,uv) all cases, and leave but little to the judges, hpth 
 on account of the difficulty of getting many good men to legis- 
 late, and because at ^v vofiodealat Lk toWov aKi-\^ajiivwv yi- 
 yvovTaC a'l Se KpiauQ eJ vtroyvov' and because the legislator 
 does not judge for the present and particular case, but for the 
 future and universal, and is therefore free from prejudice or 
 
 9. Therefore the exordium, narrative, etc. have nothing to 
 do with the art, as all that aims at making the judge irowv nva. 
 
 2 c 
 
386 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 10. Although. SrifiriyopiKr) is superior to liKavtKtj, all men 
 prefer the latter, because it best admits of superfluity and false 
 reasoning. 
 
 11. Now fi fitv ivrt^voQ fiidoioQ vepX Tas Tziareic kariv ri Si 
 irlaTiQ, aTroSfi^f'c tiq' iari S' aTroSeiJtc prtropiKt), kvQvjj.r]na' Koi 
 Effn TovTO, a»c eItteIv clttXwq, Kvptwrarov rwr TriffTEWv' ro oe evdv- 
 firifia, (TvWoyicrixoe rte' Srjkov B', on 6 fiaKioTa tovto Swaficpog 
 Beapeiy, eK rivuiv Ka\ Trwg yiyverai (ruXKoyidjibc, ovtoq cat iv6v- 
 firifiaTiKog av eirj naXiara. But he must also know not Logic 
 only, but the subjects (xtpl ttoio) enthymems are, and their 
 differences from the syllogisms of Logic. For to re aXridBQ, 
 Kai TO ofioiov rw aXridei, rrje avriJQ Eort SvvafiEwe ISelv' and from 
 a natural aptness to discover truth, man has an aptness in 
 conjecturing probabihties. 
 
 12. Rhetoric is useful, 1. Sid to (piaci eivai KpEiVrw 7a- 
 Xrjdrj Ka\ tci SiKaia tuiv ivavTiuiv' 2. because, on account of 
 the unscientific character of some hearers, dvayK-q Sid twv koi- 
 vijjv TroLEtffdai Tag TriffTELQ Kal Tovg ^oyovg' 3. TcivavTia Bjt Sv- 
 vaadai tzuQuv, Kadavep Kai kv To'ig avXKoyiaixo'iQ, in order to 
 confute aWoi' -j^ploiXEvov jirj ZiicaiiiiQ to~iq Xoyoie axJTo'ig, which 
 Dialectic and Rhetoric alone can do. 4. aToirov, ei rw auifian 
 jucv aw^pov fjYj SvvafrOai poridelv eavrw, Xoyio S' ohK alff-^ov' o 
 fiaXKov 'iSwv kiTTtv dvdpwTrov Trjg tov awfiaTOQ ^ttac. 
 
 13. The improper use of Rhetoric is an objection com- 
 mon to all things except dperi]. 
 
 1 4. The business of Rhetoric oh to Treitrai, dXXct to ISciv, tci 
 TTLdavd, and both to Tridavbv, Kal to (paivofitiov vidayov, as in 
 Dialectic. ^ yap iTO(j>iaTiKrl ovk kv ttj Svrdjuti, dW kv rp Tpoai- 
 piaei. But in Rhetoric tVrai 6 jxkv Kara tyiv kiriiTTrifi-qv, o It 
 KaTa Trjv Trpoaiptrnv, pi]To>p' but in Dialectic, aoipiiTTrtQ fikv Kara • 
 Trjv irpoaipeaiv, SiaXeKTiKog M ov KaTa Trjv irpoaiptaiv, dXXa Kara 
 Triv divafiiv. 
 
 II. — 1. Rhetoric is defined to be dvvafiig Trepi tKatrrov tov 
 Qtvpficrai TO kvli.\6nivov Tndavov and that on any given sub- 
 ject (Trepl TOV SodkvTOs). 
 
 2. Twv Sk TfloTEwv al jjkv aTE^voi tlaiv, a'l Se ivTe^voi' arfYva 
 St Xtyw, oaa jxi] Bi rifiHv iTETropioTai, dXXd irpovirrip^iv' olov 
 fidpTvpeg, P&cravoi, avyyparjiai, Kal Sera Toiavra' f.vTE-)(ya St, oaa 
 did Trig fieddSov Kal Bi rjfiiov KaTaaKevacrdijvai SvvaTdv OidTt Iti 
 TOVTiav To'ig jxev j^prjaairdai, ra Se fipEti'. 
 
 3. The EiTEXi'O' irlnTEie are of three kinds. 1. ev ra JjSei 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 387 
 
 Tou Xeyovrot;' 2. ev rw top aKpoarfiv CLadelval ttwc' 3, ey avruj 
 7(3 \6yoj, 
 
 4. The first takes place when the speaker makes himself 
 appear worthy of credit ; the second, when the hearer is ex- 
 cited with any feeling ; the third, when a real or apparent 
 truth is shown. 
 
 7. Rhetoric is o'wv irapafvie ti Tfjg AiaXiKTiKfiQ, Kal rrje irspi 
 TO. rjdr] TpayfxaTtiaQ (i. e. 7roXi7iK)7e). 
 
 8. The means of persuading are either iu6vfiriixa=priTopiK6c 
 (TvWoyiafiOQ, or irapaSeiyjua = prjTopiKri iirayuyii, by one of 
 which all men persuade. 
 
 9. Now, to show uTi ETTi iroXKwv koX bfioitov, ovtu>q e'x"' '^'^ 
 Logic is tTraywyi], but in Rhetoric TrapaSciyfxa' but that, riVwi' 
 6vTU}Vt ETEpov Ti Zih TavTa avjxpaiVEiv Traph Tavra t^ ravTa elyat, 
 Tl KadoXov, rj (ic Ejrt ro iroXv, is in Logic called avWoyiafiog, but 
 in Rhetoric hdvfxriixa. 
 
 10. Although example is often used, yet enthymematic 
 reasonings are most applauded {dopvPovvrat). 
 
 1 1. As in medicine, universals are alone considered by Rhe- 
 toric, and it is ek twv tiSt) fiovXevecrBai eludoTwv. 
 
 12. As the reader is supposed to be cnrXove, the atryXXoytara 
 are better than the truXXeXoyitrfiiya, for the latter are not tvva- 
 paKoXovdriTa Sta rb firJKog. 
 
 13. We can only reason from to. tvhexbftcva its ra ttoXXo 
 i-)(£iv Kal ciXXwc i 
 
 14. But as there are but few dvayKola which form rhetorical 
 syllogisms, they are generally contingent (dig ettI to ttoXv). 
 Hence ivdvixrifiara are said to be ii, ukotwv Kal ek arffiEmv' 
 But tiKOg is mg ii^l to ttoXu yiyvojxtvov ov-)^ a-aXwg M' iiXXa to 
 TTtpl TO. irZf)^6jiEva aXXwg ej^eiv ot/rwe f-xov wpbg iKtivo, irpiig b 
 tiKog, we TO KadbXov irpbg to Kara fiepog. But of arifiEia, the 
 one ovTii)g EX^h i>£ ''^•' '^"S' EKaoTov Ti wpbg to KadoXoV but the 
 other b)Q tUv KadoXov ti irpbs to KaTa fxipog' and of these the 
 apayKalov is called TCKfiripiov' but the fxri civayKalov has no 
 name to distinguish it.* 
 
 19. But TrapaSiiy fia is an ETraywyri, but we i^ipog irpbg fiipog, 
 Ofwwv irpbg Ofioiov, orav a/J-fo) fXEV y virb to dvTO yfvoc, yvuipi- 
 fii)TEpov Se darepov 17 OaTEpov. 
 
 » The best explanation of the difficulties of this passage -will be found 
 in Hansen's Logic, Appendix, note E. Some useful illustrations will 
 also be found in the notes to tlie translation, pp. 17 — 21. 
 
 2 c 2 
 
388 
 
 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 21. Those syllogisms are properly logical and rhetorical, 
 which are of equal extent with the arts themselves, in refer- 
 ence to which the rovroi are used. For these are common 
 TTEpi iroWwv Siac^Epoi/rwr e'idet, such as lesser and greater, etc. 
 But the eidi) are confined to their respective subjects ;, thus 
 there are wporcKTeis concerning physics, that are of no use in 
 morals, etc. 
 
 The Toiroi convey no specific knowledge, as they are irepl 
 ovSh vTvoKtifitvov, but the EiSij, if well selected, will gradually 
 produce a science distinct from the Dialectic and Ehetoric. 
 
 22. "EiSi; == a.1 Kad' 'iKaarov yivoQ "iZiai irpoTaatiQ. 
 ToTTOi = a.1 Koivai bfj.oiu)e tcolvtiiiv. 
 
 III. — 1. There are three t'iSij of Rhetoric, as there are three 
 kinds of hearers, and the speech consists of three things ; 1. 
 6 Xt'ywi'. 2. iTEpi oi) \lyu. 3. irpoQ ov. 
 
 2. The hearer is either deiapog -n-epi rfjQ dvvafieue, (the skiU of 
 the orator,) or Kpir^Q, i- e. KpirfiQ y twv ■ytyEvr]jxivii>v, ri tuv 
 fitWovTiav, the latter being iKKkqaiaaTriQ, the former Ba-aorjjc. 
 
 3. Hence oratory is thus divided : — 
 
 2. llK 
 
 r.aviKTi 
 
 Business. 
 f TrporpoTT); 
 -< and 
 
 ( dTTOrpOTTj). 
 
 ( Karriyopia 
 
 < and 
 
 ( aTTokoyia. 
 ( iiraivos 
 
 < or 
 (^ \j/6yo£. 
 
 Time. 
 fjtXKwv. 
 
 yavofievog. 
 
 End. 
 (Tuyu^e'pov 
 1. (TvnJSovXevTiKfi < and and 
 
 jiXafispov. 
 
 SUawv 
 
 and 
 
 adiKOV. 
 
 6 irapinv, but some- kuXov 
 
 3. tTTiStiKTiK^ -^ or times the others and 
 
 by recollection or ala^uv. 
 anticipation. 
 
 8. In all three kinds we must have propositions on Iwanv 
 and dlvvarov, ti yiyovav, J) fir), on fiiya jj jxiKpov, SiKuioy ?j 
 dotKov, KaXov rj al(7-)(p6v, etc. 
 
 IV. — 1. Excluding dSivara, dvayKola, and dirb tvxVC T'" 
 v6[ieva ayada, Aristotle enumerates five things irtpt ip avp.- 
 fiovXevovrai TravTEq. 1. iropoi. 2. woXefioe Kal upr]vr). 3. 0«' 
 XaKY) TTJe xi)pae. 4. eisrayo/iEi'a Kal e^ay6fi£va. 5. vofiodsaia. 
 Then follow the e'iSri of each, and the knowledge necessary 
 and useful.* 
 
 * As these are fully enumerated by Hobbes, I shall here omit them, 
 as in all similar cases. 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 389 
 
 V. — 1. As to the Epideictic orator, evSai/xovia is his aim, 
 TTcpt yap TavTTis, koi tUv ilg TavTrjV bvvtiivovtdv, Kcii twv ivav- 
 Tttov TavTTi, al Tt irpoTpoiral Kal al dvoTpoTral vaaai eiai. 
 
 3. But cvSaifiovla is, Istly, cinrpa^a fitra aper^c' 2iidly, 
 avrapKcia ^uirje' 3rdly, 6 filog b fierh a.a(^a\tiaQ rjSiaTOg' 4thly, 
 evadeveta KrrjjidTwv k-ai otofxaTiov, fitrh ivrafitug (jivXaKTiKije re 
 Koi irpaKTiicfjg tovtidv. 
 
 4. Now he is avTapKiaraTog, lo VTrap\zi to. t Iv av-w, nai to. 
 tKTog aya6a. 'Errri Se iv avrw jxtv, r'a TrtpX i^vyriv, koX to. iv 
 auifiarC i^o) 2e, evyivEia, koi (j>i\oi, koi ■^^pruxara, Kal Tifiri' 
 
 7. The parts of wealth are vofxiafiaTog TrXfjdog, yrjg, ■^(iiipiiiiv 
 K-rjaig' kri Se, kviirXwv Kryjaig Kal jioaKrtfiaTwv Kal dvSpairoSwv 
 irXridei Kal fiiyidei Kal koWei BiaipEpovTwv. And all these must 
 be dir<paXrj Kal iXEvdipia Kal y^pricrtfia. But the most useful are 
 ra Kapvifia' the liberal, to. Trpog diroXavaiv. And they are 
 KapTTifia d<f liv al TrpouoZoi' but dTroXavnTiKO, d<p' liv firjSiv Trapa. 
 TTiv ■)(pfj<nv yiyvETai, o ri Kal ahov. 'AirfaXEia consists in pos- 
 sessing wealth wuT iip' avTu eIvui ttiv -^pfjaiv aiiTwv. 
 
 8. EvSoffo, TO iiro irdvruiv avovZalov viroXafij3avciT6ai. 
 
 9. Tiyu^, irr)fiE~wv EvtpyETiKrig Jd^ijc- 
 
 Eutpycffin, fj Eig aiOTJipiav, Kal oaa a'iria tov Eivai, j; Eig 
 •jtXovtov^ i\ Etg Tt TWV a.XX(i}v dyadidv. 
 
 12. 'lax^g, Svvafiig rov Kivtlv ETepov, wg fiovXETai. 
 
 15. Euyjjp/a, /SpaSi/rijc yripoig fiET dXvirlag. 
 
 16. $1X05, ooTic, a o'lETai dyada Eivai iKEivw, irpaKTiKog iariv 
 av-Qv li ekeIvov. A man who possesses many such, enjoys 
 ■iroXv<piXia and ■)^pT]tTTO<piXia. 
 
 17. EuTTy^i'a 5e EtTTiv, wv 7/ Tv-^K] dyaQwv air/a, raura yiyvE- 
 aQai Kal virdp-^Eiv ff wavra, r) rd vrXEiora, ^ ra fiiyurra. 
 
 18. As dpETTi is most closely connected with ETraLvog, Aris- 
 totle proceeds to ra Trpbg to TiXog of deliberative oratory. 
 
 VI. — 1. And these are ra iTv/i<pipovTa irpbc Tag Trpd^cig, to 
 Se avfi^ipov dyadov, which must therefore be considered. 
 'Ayadbv is defined to be 8 dv avrb kavrov 'ivEKa r\ alpEToV Kal 
 ov tvEKa aXXo alpovfiEda' Kal ov iftETai irdvra, f; irdvTa Ta a'i- 
 adrimv i'xovTa, rj vovv, 7) £i Xd^oi vovV Kal oaa vovg dv eicaoTU 
 dvobon)' Kal oaa b VEpl EKaaTov. 
 
 3. And goods follow ?*; dfia, ») vaTEpov. A copious enumer- 
 ation of the TOTToi next follows, for which see Hobbes. 
 
 18. Enumeration of m dpi(^ia^r]Tr]ai}ia dyadd. 
 
 VII. — 1. In order to enumerate the tottoi of comparative 
 
390 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 good and expediency, which the deliberative orator must dis- 
 cuss, Aristotle defines iiKepixoy, tooovtov, koX tin' and vvepf 
 ■)(6fiivov, TO krvnap^ov. Observing, /xeT^ov ficv del Kal nXtlov 
 vpuQ iXaTTOv' piya Se Kal fiiKpbv, Koi "noXv Kal oXiyov, ntpoq to 
 Tu)v TcoXKQv fiiyedog' Kal imipix"" l^^v, to fiiya' to ^e tXXtiwov, 
 fxiKpoV Kal voXv Kal oXiyov ujaavTwe. Then follow the Tomoi, 
 See Hobbes. 
 
 VIII. — 1. To be able iTEiduv Kal KaXoig avfijiovXivuv, one 
 ought to be able tUq •noXiTtiag aitaaae Xa^Civ, Kal to. tKaaTris 
 idri, Kal vofiijxa, Kal (rvfupipoPTa iieXeiv. For, 1. •neidovTai iiav- 
 TCQ T(f avufepovTi, 2. Kvpia r] tov Kvpiov dmoijiavinQ. 
 
 3. There are four troXLTtiai, ZrifioKpaTia, oXiyapxla, apur- 
 TOKparla, fiovapxia' SO that the ruling and judicial functions 
 will be one part of these or the whole. But SrifioKparia is de- 
 fined, 'aoXiTEia, Ev t) KXijpij) BiavcftovTat rag dp-^ag' dXtyapj^i'a, 
 £v r\ 01 duo TtfirifxdTWV dpifTOKpaTia, Iv rj ol Kara, waidEtav, 
 But by waiSei'a I mean rijv i/tto tov vofiov KEifiEvrjv. But fxov 
 apxja is that, ev ri Eig awairwv Kvpidg ebtC and ^ jxkv Kara Tal,iv 
 Tiva, is called jiaaiXEia' but r) dopiarog, Tvpavvig. 
 
 5. Their respective rt'Xij are, 
 
 Of SrjixoKparla, eXfuflepta. 
 
 oXiyap^ia, itXovTog. 
 
 dpWTOKparia, to. Trepi TraiSttav Kal rd vojxifxa, 
 
 TvpavviSog, (pvXaKTi. 
 
 IX. — 1. But as ethical character is also necessary in the 
 speaker, and as virtue and vice are the objects of the Epi- 
 deictic orator, and alsorcnable us to appear voioi Tiveg kuto to 
 7]dog, which is the second iriff-if ivTExvog, we must therefore 
 define thus : 
 
 3. KaXo)', o av di avTO alpETOv ov eTraiVETOV fj' ?) o av dya- 
 Qbv ov fjSv ri, OTL dyadov. And, if so, aptn) must needs be 
 KaXoV dyadov yap ov STraiveTov tariv. 4. But dptn) is, as it 
 seems, Svvafiig TropiariKfi dyadwv Kal <j>vXaKTtKri' Kal Sui'a/Liic 
 EvepyETiK)) TroXXwj' Kal fitydXwv Kal TrdvTiav Trfpi vraira. 5. Its 
 parts are StKaiouvvt], avSpe/a, cruxppoirivvi, fiEyaXoTrpivEia, juEya- 
 Xo^V)(ia, (.XEvQepiiT-qg, irpaoTrjg, (jipovrjaig, ao(pia. 7. Which are 
 thus defined : ^iKaioavvri, dpETrj, Si riv rd avTuiv EKatrrot exoviti, 
 Kal o>g 6 vojiog' but dSiKia, Si ^v ret dXXoTpia, oix we b vofiOi, 
 8. 'AvopEia, Si i/v TrpaKTiKoi Elm Twv KoXHv epyav ev to'iq kivSv- 
 voiQ, Kal i)Q b vojxog keXevei, Kal inrrfpETiKol Tf vofif but StiXia 
 the reverse. 9. Xaxppoaivri, dpETrJ, Si fjv irpbg Tag jjSovac tov 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 391 
 
 (T(i/jaroc ovTwe tj^oume, i>Q 6 vojioQ KtXtiti" but dicoXaaia the 
 reverse. 10. 'EXtuflEpiorije, irtpi ■xpriiuaTa iv iroiriTiKrf but 
 UviktyQepia the reverse. 11. M.tyaXo'^^vyla, dper^ fieyaXtav 
 7roir]TiKq thcpyETTjfiaTuv but fiiKpo\pvxta the reverse. 12. Me- 
 yaXoTrpETTEia, dpcrij ev Zairavrifiaai /jicycdove TroiijrtKq" but juiKpo- 
 ^pv^la and |itKpo?rp£'7reia the reverse. 13. 0povr;(ric, dptrii hia.- 
 voiag, Kad' f/v ev (iovkEveadat SvvavTai irtpi dyadwv (cat Ka/iuv 
 rwv eiprifiivuiv tic eiSatfjoviav. 
 
 Then follows a copious list of ra icaXa. 
 
 32. But as praise results from moral action, we must en- 
 deavour to show that the person commended has always acted 
 (caret TTpoaiptaiv. He defines 'ijraivoQ, \6yoQ lix<pavt!^u)v /liyeBoe 
 dpcTTJe. 
 
 35. E)^£t Se Koivbv eliog 6 ivaivog Kai al ervfifiovXai' a yap 
 ev TO (Tv/jpovXevtiv iiTTodoio av, ravra, fXETariQivra rrj Xt^ti, 
 kyKwfxia yiyvETXii.. 
 
 38. In praise, we may also use to. dv^ririKa, as si fxovoQ, i; 
 ■jrpSiTOQ, ^ fiET oXiywv, rj Koi 6 fiaXiiTTa wtTroiijKtv. Also to. tic 
 riov ■x^poviDV Kal Tutv Kaipdv (cai ft TroXXaKig. 
 
 X. Judicial Oratory requires us to consider three things, 
 EV fikv, tLvwv, koX TToawv iviica dSiKovai.' izvTtpov St, iruQ avToi 
 BiaKEiiXEVoC rpiTov 8e, tovq ■jtoiovq, koi ttwq '{■^ovras. 
 
 3. Aristotle then defines 70 oSikeTv, to pXd-rrTuv iKovra irapa 
 Tov vo/xov. But vofioQ is either 'iSios or koivoq. "iSioc is that, 
 Kad' ov yeypafXfxivov TroXiTEvovTai' but koivoq, oaa aypaipa irapd 
 Traaiv OfioXoytiaBai ZokCi. Men ekovtec, oaa uSoteq, koI fit) 
 dvayKa^o/iEvoi. "Oca fXEV ovv ekovteq, ov vdvTa TipoaipovfitvoC 
 otra c£ Trpoaipovfievoi, sI^otec aTravra' ovSeIq ydp, 6 TrpoaipeTrai, 
 dyvoEi. But the motives through which TrpoaipoCirat (iXdir- 
 -Eiv, (Cat (pavXa tvoie'iv irapd tov vofiov, are kokio and aKpaaia. 
 
 6. The motives of injustice. 
 
 7. Motives of all actions are either 
 
 St 
 
 aVTOVQ. 
 
 I 
 
 Zl eQoq. 01 opE^iv Slit Tv\rjv i^ dvayKrjQ. 
 
 XoyiaTiK^v f] 
 (IXoyov, i. e. 
 either through 
 jiovXriaiQ, o'pyij, 
 
 or ETTlOvfiia. 
 
392 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 12. Now 7a ctTTo Tvxve are to roiauro yiyvofiEva, oawv ij re 
 airia uogiaroQ, kol fir) 'ivtKa tov y'lyvtrai' Koi firirc au, jiriTe dc 
 £7rt TO iTo\v, ixrjTE TETayfiivbic, 
 
 13. But rci (pvati, 8(ro)v rj re ahia iv avTolg Kal TEray/iivri' Tj 
 yap del, rj u>q etti to voXii uaavTug dvofiaiveL. 
 
 14. Ta fiiq. are oo-a Trap' Ividvfiiav ^ Tovg XoyiaiiovQ yiyverai 
 Sl avrSiv rdv irpaTTOVTOiv. 
 
 15. "Eflct Se, Sera ^lci to TroXXctKifi TrtTroiTjKEvat ■Koiovai. 
 
 16. ^oyiafii^ St, TO SoKoCvra avjKpkpuv is tSv Eiprj/jiivwv dya- 
 Qiov, rj biQ riXos, fj iig Trpoc to TeXog, orav lia to avfifcpov 
 irparrjjrai. 
 
 17. Atct dvfiov Se Kal opy^v Ta Ti/iit>pr]TiKa. 
 
 But we must observe that ri KdXacrie tov rraa-j^ovTos 
 EVEKa koTiV fi Se Tifibipia TOV TTOwvvTOQ, Lva arroTrXrjpooBy. 
 
 18. Ai' EirSvjilav Ze irparrErai, oaa ipaivETai rfiia. 
 
 XI. — 1. 'HSovj) is defined to be Kivr^aiQ tiq rfje \j/v)(fjQ, koi 
 KaTaOTaaiQ adpoa Kal aiadrjTri elg rflv vvap^ovirav (jivaiV Xutttj 
 
 Se TOVVaVTlOV. 
 
 'Enumeration of to ^Sta. 
 
 XII. Ilwe e^oiTEC aZiKOvai, Kal ttoTo, Kal woiovq. 
 
 For this chapter, see Hobbes. 
 
 XIII. — 3. Division of laws into "ilioi and koivo'i, and conse- 
 quently of TO. adiKrifiaTa Kat SiKoidijuara. 
 
 5. Aristotle defines aSiKE'iadai, to vwo ekovtos to. aSiKa irair- 
 XEiV adding, to yap aStKEtv (Spiorai wpoTepov ekovitiov Eii'ai, 
 
 11. As there are twv SiKaiwv Kal twv adUwr Svo eiStj" to. 
 fiEv yEypafifiiva' to. Se aypafa' SO, of these latter eotI to ftiv 
 Kud' VTTEppoXrjv dpETTJg Kal KaKiag, i^^ olc ovtilr] koi Eiraivoi, koi 
 aTifilat Kal Tifiat, Kal Sbipeai' olov, to xapiv EX'"' '"I? ''^"triaavn 
 Ev, Kal avTEVTzoiE~iv TOV Ev ■KoiTiaavTa' but others are row lliov 
 vojxov Kal yEypaftfiEvov eXXEiiifia, i. e. ettieikec or equity, which 
 is defined to Trapa tov yEypajjijiivov vofiov ZiKaiov. And this 
 
 happens, to. flkv EKOVTIOV, to 2e CIKOVTUV tSiV VO/iodfTiiV OLKOVTUV 
 
 liEv, oTav Xadri' ek6vt<i)v Be, OTav fir) Svvti>VTai iiopiaai, aXX 
 dvayKoiov fiEV rj KadoXov eitteTj', fif) r) Be, aXX' tSig ettI to 
 rroXii. 
 
 15. And hence to EmEtKrj are those deeds, e(j>' olg Be'i avy- 
 yvwfir)v e'xeij'. 
 
 18. And Equity consists in looking rather to the wpoaipEiTK 
 than the irpa^ig. 
 
 XIV. Enumeration of the degrees of guilt. See Hobbes. 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 393 
 
 XV.^-1. The (ire-xyoL triarciQ are yofiot, fiaprvpcc, (TvvdiJKai, 
 liaaavot, SpKoi. 
 
 3. Arguments for the use or opposition of the laws. 
 
 13. Maprupec e'<" Sittoi, oi fikv traXaiol, o'l Se irpoirfaTOi. 
 Kai rouruv o'l fiev fivri-j^ovTeQ tov kivSvvov' o'l St tKrof. IlaXaioi, 
 01 TroiriTai Koi oi ■xpr)orfio\6yoi, the former Trepi tUv yivofxivwv, 
 the latter jrcpt tUv iaoixiviov. 
 
 Also proverbs are fxaprvpia. 
 
 15. IIpoo'^aT-oi, oiToi yvuipifioi tI KEKpUaai' yjp^aifxoi yap al 
 TOVTblV KpiatlQ TO'lS TTCpl Twv avTuv aji(^i<T^r)Tovaiv. 
 
 Manner of using or invalidating witnesses. 
 20. Use of (TvvQriKai. See Hobbes. 
 
 26. Use of fiaaavoi. 
 
 27. In regard to oaths, there is a fourfold division, ri yap 
 dioiotri, Kal Xafifjavet, rj ovSirepov' y to fiev, to S' ov' Kal tovtwv 
 >*; 2iS(i)(7t /xcv, ov XafijiavEi Si' T) Xa/xfiavei jikv, SiSbitri Sc ov. 
 
 Manner of using the oath under the different circumstances. 
 
 BOOK n. 
 
 I. Having discussed deliberative and epideictic oratory, 
 Aristotle now turns to judicial, observing : iVcKa Kpiaeiig Ictlv 
 j; 'FrjTOpucri' koi yap raj <rw/j/3oii\ac Kpivovai, Kai if Ziki) Kpiinq 
 iariv therefore we must not only consider ottuq anodeiKTiKoe 
 EiTTai Kal iriuTOQ 6 \6yoQ, dXXa Kal avTov iro'tov Tiva Kal tov 
 KpiTYiv KaTanKiva'Cf-iv. 
 
 4. And this is chiefly important for the speaker dg tclq 
 trvfiBovXag, but for the hearer elg Tag StKag. For men form 
 different opinions according as they are <j>iXovvTeg, fiiaovvTig, 
 opyi^ofievoi, or vp^wg ixovTsg, bridvfiovVTeg, or tviXiriSeg. 
 
 5. Tov fikv ovv avTOvg Eivai iriaTOvg tovq XiyovTag Tpia cotI 
 TO. atria' rotraura yap etrn, Bt a TriffTevofiev k^ta twv aTTOoel^ewv, 
 "EoTt Be Tavra (ppovriaig, Kal apsTTj, Kal evvoia. 
 
 7. But how men may appear virtuous and prudent, may be 
 learnt from the chapter on virtues. 
 
 But eiivoia must be derived from a knowledge of ra iradri, 
 which are Sc oaa fttTa^aXXovTeg lia^ipovm irpog Tag Kpiaeig, oig 
 
394 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 tVerat Xihttj Kal fiSovri' olov, opyij, tXtoc, ^o/3os, Kai oaa aX\a 
 roiavra, Kai to tovtoiq ivavrla. Ati Se Siatpciv [rctj irepl tKaarov 
 dg rpia' \iyw S", olov T^epl opyfjg, irwc te SiaKeifievoi opyiXoi Eiiri, 
 ical Tiaiv £(a)9a(Tiv opyi^tadai, Kal tvl iroioic. 
 
 II. Anger is defined to be opES,ie ixera. Xutttjc rifiupiae <paivo- 
 fiivTjQ dia (paivofiivriv oXiyoipiav twv elg avTov, f) de avrov riva 
 fj.y) vpoa-qKovTUQ. 2. Thus anger will always be against a par- 
 ticular object, and all anger will be accompanied by a certain 
 pleasure, ojto t-jjc eXviSog rov ri/twpijffao-Qai. 3. ^ dXiywpta 
 'IffTiv kvipyeia So^rjg irepl to fiT)SEv6e a^iov ipaivofxevov' but 
 there are three kinds of okiywpla, Kara(pp6vriing, eirripEaafioQ, 
 and v/3p[c. 
 
 For the enumeration of the feelings and objects of anger, 
 see Hobbes. 
 
 III. — 1. As TU) opyO^cadai ivavTiov rb wpavvecrSai, Aristotle 
 defines Tj-pavvcric, Karatrracng Kal ripiixrjaig opyrjg, 
 
 TV. — 1. He now defines ro (juXeIv, to jiovKEcQai tivi, a. o'ltrat 
 ayaOa, EKtivov 'ivEKa, aXXa fxri avTov, Kal to Kara Svvafiiv irpac- 
 TtKOV EivaL tovtwv. <^i\og S' karlv 6 (piXwv Kal acri^tXoi^Ei'oc. 
 So it follows, fiXov Eivai Tov avVT)l6fiEvov To'ig dyadolg, Kal 
 (TvvaXyovvTa Tolg XvTrrjpolg, firj dia tI ETEpoy, dXXa vt ekeivov* 
 
 After enumerating Tovg ipiXovvrag kuI fiiaovvTog, Aristotle 
 observes, Troiijriica E\dpag, opyfi, EirripEaafibg, S(a/3oXj';. 
 
 31. 'Opyri fikv ovv lariv ek t&v irpog aiiTov' i-)(6pa ?£ Kal avfu 
 TOV Trpbg avrov' and ^ jxkv dpyi) cleI irpbg to. Ka6' EKaafa' to 2e 
 fxiaoQ Kal Trpbg rd yEvrj. And all Xvirrjpd are aladrjTa, but rd 
 fidXicTTa Kara, iJKiaTa altrdrird, as adtKia and acppoavvj). 
 
 V. — 1. $d/3oc is XiiTTT) Tig )) rapa'xri ek tpavraaiag fxiXXovTOg 
 KUKOv fi ipdapTiKov, Ti XwTrijpoS* and (po^Epd, ocra (paivErai. ivvafitv 
 ej(£tv jXEydXrjv rov fdEipEtv, T; PXclttteiv pXafiag sie \virr]V fieyd- 
 Xrjv cvvTEivovaag. 
 
 16. After enumerating the feelings and objects of fear, 
 Aristotle remarks of confidence, to te ddpcrog havriov tS 
 (pofiu, Kal TO dappaXiov t<j (pofiEp^' wote fiETa (pavraaiag r/ e.Xvle 
 TWV uwTrjpluiv, wg iyyvg ovtwV twv Se <j>ol3epwv f; firj vvthov, i) 
 TTOppti) ovtwv. 
 
 VI. — 2. Alayyvyj is Xmr] Tig Kal rapa-^^ri jrepl rh eiq dSo^iav 
 (patvofJEva (^EpEtv twv KaKwv, Tj wapovTwv, rj yeyovdrwv, 17 fiEX- 
 XovTwv. But dvaia'^vvTia, dXcywpia rig Kal aTrddEia irtpl ra 
 avTci TavTa. 
 
 VII. Aristotle defines x"P's> '■'"^' ^^ ° ^'x'^'' ^^'V^'''" X"P"' 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 395 
 
 VTTOvpyeiv rio Seo/iEV&), juij avri tivoq, firfi' tVa ti avra rw virovp- 
 yovvri, aXX' iVa ti Ikhvu). 
 
 3. We may do away with obligation on the grounds »*; 071 
 avTutv ei'fhra VTrrjperovaty, fj VTzrjpirrjffay' 7) otl airo TV-^z ffuv€- 
 
 TtEOEV, K. T. X. 
 
 VIII. "EXeoc is Xinri} ne Ext ipaivofiiva kuku (pOapriK^ ical 
 XvKTipu Tov dvaliov roy^avciv, Kav avTOQ vpoaSoKijatuv av :ra- 
 delv, fi Tuiv avTov Tiva kcll tovto, orav irXriaiov (paivrjTai. 
 
 8. EXeeiya are oVa Tuty Xvir-qpiov Koi oZovTjpuiy ijtdapriKa. 
 
 IX. But to pity is particularly opposed to veixeo^v- ™ yap 
 XuTTEiffOat ETTt rale ava^tatg KaicoTrpayiaiQ avTiKeifievov koTi Tpo- 
 irov Tiv'a, (cat ciTro tov aiiTOv ridovg, to XvirtioQai tx\ tcuq dva^,- 
 iaiQ EvirpayiaiQ' Kal afjipo) to. Tradrj rjdovg \priiTTOv. 2. Whence 
 vtfjLEaLQ is even an attribute of the gods. 
 
 3. But (pQovoQ is differently opposed to pity, for it is XW-q 
 Tapa^wSriQ ettI Evirpayi'^, dXX' ou TOv aya^iov, dXXa tov "itrov Kol 
 bfioiov. But it is solely with reference to one's neighbour, 
 otherwise it will be fopog. 
 
 4. But, by parity of reasoning, 6 Xv-n-ov/jevog eirl roTc dva^iwg 
 KaKOTrpayovaiv fiadrjcreTai, fj aXvTTOC 'iuTui, kirX to~lq ivavTibjg 
 KaKoirpayovffiv. 
 
 5. O avTog kuTiv ETrf^^atpiicaKog icai (l)dovep6Q' k<f w yap rtc 
 X«7rE(7-at yiyvofiiva, Kal vTra.p-)(ovTi, dvayKoloy, tovtov kirl nf 
 ffTEprftrst, Kal ttj (j)Qop^ Trj tovtov \aLpeiv (ivayKTi. 
 
 For the enumeration of the objects of ve'^uectic, see Hobbes. 
 
 X. — 1. $6oj'Oc is defined to be Xv-kt] Tig ettj ev-rrpayii/. (jian'o- 
 fiivTj Tuiv iipr\^ivh)v dyadwv irtpl Toig bfioiovg, fir/ Iva ti aiiTio, 
 dXXa Si kKzivovg' <j)6ovriaovai fitv yap ot towvtoi, oig uai Tivtg 
 OfioioL, f; <palvovTai. And ojiowi are Kara yEvoc, Kara avyyi- 
 vuav, Kaff rjXiKtag, KaQ' e^Eig, Kara So^av, kotci to. virap-)^ovTa, 
 
 XL Z^Xoe is Xvrrrj Tig iiri ipaivofiiyt] irapovaiq. dyaQuiv kvTi- 
 fiu))', KaX kvSexofikv<i>v avra Xajieiv, vepi Tovg bpoiovg Trj (fivaci, 
 ou^ oTi ciXXw, a'XX' on uvyi Kai uvtS iaTii Hence i^rjXog kin- 
 eiKEg koTi, Koi kirtEiKwv, but (pBovog is <j>avXov, Kai <j)avXb>v. 
 
 XII. Aristotle now considers the passions and habits of 
 men according to their ages, which are three, vEorj/s, dKfifi, Kal 
 ynpag- See Hobbes. 
 
 16. Mirth or EVTpairEXia irETTailEVjxivq vjSpig laTi, 
 
 Xni. Old men are in most respects the contrary. 
 
 XIV. But 01 aKfid^orTEg are [lETa^v tovtoiv to -/idog, in all 
 respects. 
 
396 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 XV. The goods of fortune are next considered, in as far as 
 they influence the dispositions of men. And, first, the ^doc of 
 2. tiyevsia is defined to be to tpiXorifiorcpov alvai tov KeKTri/xivov 
 avTviV but eiyivEia is ivTifioTrjs TrpoySvwv' Kol KaTa(j)povTiriK6v 
 Koi Twv ofiolidv toIq TTpoyovoiQ role avTuiv. 3. It diifers from. 
 TO yevvaiov, inasmuch as tuytvec is said kuto. r^v tov yivovq 
 dpeTTiv' but yEvvaiov Kara to fir) ii,LaTanQai Tijc (pvaewQ. 
 
 XVI. Of wealth it is observed, vfipiaToX koX virsprifavoi 
 Traa^ovTie Ti inrb rrje KTrjtrewe tov ttKovtov. He then enumei'ates 
 thecharacteristicsof the wealthy, observing iv KcfaXaia, dvoriTov 
 tuSatjuovoe 7jdoQ ttXovtov kari. But the difference between those 
 of recent and long-standing wealth, consists rw atravTa jiaXKov 
 Koi ipavXoTepa to. KaKO. £j(£iv tovq VEOwXovTovg' uavEp yap dirai- 
 ^Evixia niXovTov iarX to veoiiXovtov Elvai. 
 
 XVII. The disposition of the powerful and the fortunate. 
 
 XVIII. — 1. Having shown that there are xoivix E'ihr) belong- 
 ing to all the three kinds of oratory, •Kaai yap dvayKa'iov, ra 
 TTEpl TOV SvvaTOv Kal dSvvaTov Trpoayjpriadai. iv To'ie Xoyoig' ical rove 
 /lEV, <lc Earai' tovq Se, we ytyovt, irEtpdadai SEiKvvvai. "En Se, irEpi 
 fiEyidove KOivov a.'na.vTwv tori twv Xoywi'" ^pwcrai yap isavTEi 
 Tu jiEiovv KoX avi,Eiv, Kal ovji^ovXevovteq 17 dijOTpimovTES, Kai 
 titaivovvTEQ ^ \pEyoVTEe, Kai KaTTjyopovvTEe ^ ditoXoyovfiEvoi. 
 Aristotle proceeds to lay down a list of the different icoiva. e'iIt] 
 applicable to each. See Hobbes. 
 
 XX. Having treated of al tSiat wiVrtic, Aristotle proceeds 
 to al KoivaX, which are Zvo tS yivEi, mapaZEiyfia koi ivdv/xriiJia' 
 2. i] yap yvoifj-ri fiipOQ kvdvfxiijxaTot iari. 3. Yi.apatEiyjxa.Tii)v I' 
 EiZri Svo' EV fiEV yap iori TrapaSEiyjuaroe eISos to XiyEiv irpay 
 fiara upoyEyEVrijjLEva' ev Se to avrov itou'iv. Toutov S' ev /iiy 
 vapafioXri' ev Se XoyoC olov ol AiawiTEwL. Specimens of both, 
 
 7. The Xdyot are iriiiriyopiKol, and have the advantage, oti 
 irpayyuara EvpElv Ofioia yEyEvrifiiva, ^aXeirov' Xoyoug St, pq.ov. 
 But TO. upayfiaTa are best wpoe to jiovXEvaaaQaC ojioia yap wc 
 fTTt TO nroXv Ta fiiXXoVTa toIq ysyovotri, 
 
 9. Aei Se ■xprjadai toIq itapaZEiyfiaiTLV, ovk i-^fOVTa fikv EvOvftrj- 
 fiara, ojg dvoSEtlEiTiv' rj yap miaTiQ Zid TovTiav' E^ovTa Se, wc 
 fiapTvpioLQ, EirCXoyf ■)(pi>fiEvov [liri] to'iq EvQvfir]jxaai. 
 
 XXI. — 2. Vvu)fir) is defined dw6<paviTig, oi fiivroi vEpi tUv 
 Kad EKaoTov' aXXd KadoXoV kol ov Trtpt ndvTiav, dXXd Trtpi o(rav 
 al Trpa^EiQ Ecai, Kal aipera f; tfiEVKTa. eitti Trpoe ro irpdaerEiv. 
 
 But since enthymems are syllogisms wEpl toiovtwv, tu avfi- 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 397 
 
 ■Kipaafiara twv ivQvfirjfiaTiav, Kal at apx"'j "fcitpedtVTOc tov 
 ffuXXoyiiT/^ou, yvZfxal iioLv' irpoiTTedeiarie Si TrJQ aWiae, Kal tov 
 Ota rtj £vdvfir]fia etrrai to airav. 
 
 3. Hence there are four kinds of yvwfiri, as being either 
 /icT ETTiXdyou, avcv ktriKoyov, 
 
 , \ , , . ' 
 
 1. Evdv/jrifiaToe /utpoc- !■ 2ia to vpoeyvwaBai. 
 
 2. evQvfir)ij.artKal, iv oaaiq 2. fifia Xeyoixivai Sj/Xai. 
 ifi(j>alyeTat tov Xtyofxivov 
 
 TO CUTIOV, 
 
 15. These sort of sayings are of great use, 1. lia nvv ^opn- 
 Kor»;ra tUv aKpowrtoV yaipovai yap, ihv tiq Ka%oKov \iywv kin- 
 Tvx>l TWV SoSwr, ag iaelvoi Kara fiipoe i'^ovaiv. 2. on ^fliKoie 
 Tvotei rouj \6yove, which takes place ev oaoiQ SriXri fi ivpoalptait. 
 
 XXII. Requisites of enthymems. 1. ovTt Toppojdev, ovtc 
 TravTa Sel \afifjavovTa uvvayuv' 2. OVK e^ &TravTO}V twv So- 
 KoiivTwv, uXX' £K TWV wpiajxlviov XeKTiov' 3. fifl fiovov avvayuv 
 tK TWV avayKaiwv, aXKa Kal eK twv wq £7ri to iroXv. 
 
 4 — 12. Enumeration of the manner of forming enthymems 
 on different subjects. 
 
 13. ^TOf\£lov Kal TOKoq IvOv^rifiaTOQ to avTO. 
 
 14. Two kinds of enthymems, to. fiev yap Seiktiko eanv, otl 
 
 tdTLV, ri OVK 'ioTL' TO. Se EXcyKTlKO.' Kul SiafipEl, HlOTTtp EV Tolg 
 
 diaXEKTiKo'ig 'tXEyxoQ Kal (ruXXoyiffjuoc. "Eori St to jxev Seiktikov 
 EvdvfiTjfia TO ii, bfXoXoyovfiEvwv avvayciV to Se tXEyKrtKov to 
 avofioXoyovfXEva ffvvayEiv. 
 
 XX III. The TOTToi EvQvfir]fidTwv are, 
 
 1. TWV ivavTlwv. 
 
 2. EK TWV 6f.LoiwV TZTWffEWV. 
 
 3. EK TWV TrpoQ aXXriXa. 
 
 4. EK TOV fidXXov Kal riTTOv, a fortiori, or a minori^ 
 
 5. Et firiTE fiaXXov, nrjTE ^ttov, by parity of reasoning, 
 
 6. EK TOV tov y^pOVOV (TKOTTeIv. 
 
 7. EK TWV EiprilJ.EVWV Kaff avTOVQ WpOQ TOV EtTTOVTa. 
 
 8. e4 OpiOflOV. 
 
 9. £K TOV TToaayCiQ. 
 
 10. EK ZiaipEHEwg. 
 
 11. ii, Ewaywyr\q. 
 
 12. EK KpiaEwg TTEpl TOV avTOv, ^ bjxoiov, J] Evaviov, 
 
 13. EK TWV flEpWV. 
 
 14. EireiSfi ettI twv ttXei'otwv avfxfiaivci, waff 'iwEadai Tt 
 
398 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 avToig ayafiov Kai kokov, in tuv aKokovQovvTOQ itpoTpimeiv r/ 
 dworpeTTEtj'. 
 
 15. orav irepi Svoiv Koi avriKEifiivoiv [?/] •nporptitetv »; aiio- 
 TptTiuv Sir], Kai t^ mpoTepov (.Iprtfiiva roira kit afi(j>oiv ■x^pfjffdat, 
 the dilemma. 
 
 16. iTtetirj oh to. aura (jiavcpwe imaivovai Kai afavwQ. 
 
 17. £K Tov avaXoyov ravTa trvfifiaiveiv. 
 
 18. EC TOV, TO avfilSa'tvov iciv fj ravTov, on Ka\ ii. liv Bvfx- 
 fiaivzi TavTa. 
 
 19. £K TOV jirl ravTO aizi aipeiirdai vmipov y irpoTfpov, aXX' 
 a^'awaXij', olov roSe ro fv6vfj.i]fja. 
 
 20. TO, oil evexa av e'ir), T] yivoiro, tovtov tVcKa (favai Hvai, y 
 yEyevrj(T6at. 
 
 21. aKOnCiv TO. vpoTpkiTOvra koi amOTpimovTa, Ka\ oSv iviKa 
 Ka\ 'jrpaTTOvffL koi tpevyoviri. 
 
 22. £K Twv SoKovvThiv fiEV ylyveodai, aitioTwy ik. 
 
 23. kXEyKTiKOi, TO TO. dvofioXoyovfieva cKoirelv, A tl dvofio\o- 
 yovfitvov kx irdvTWV [cai] -f^poviov, KaX •npa^Buiy, Kai \6ywv. 
 
 24. roic TrpoiiajiifiXrijxivoiQ Kai dvOpwiroig koi irpay/xaai, f; 
 ioKovm, TO Xiyeiv Trjv aMav tov TrapaSo^ov. 
 
 25. aTTo TOV aWlov, av tc vvdp')(ri, Stl krrri' Kav fxrl \mapxri, 
 OTi ovK i(TTiV ajxa. 
 
 26. £1 eveSe'xet-o fikXriov aXXwe, r) krSs-)(ETai, dv ^ irujujSov- 
 Xeuei, rj TrparrEi, ^ viTrpa')(ev, okotveTv. 
 
 27. OTav Tl kvavrlov /ue'XXjj TrpaTTEaBai to'iq TTETvpayfiivoiQ, ajxa 
 (Tkotte'iv. 
 
 28. ro EK tS)V ajiapTyQivTUV KaT-qyopE'iv, r] diTo\oyE~i(!dai. 
 
 29. CtTTO TOV OVOftaTOQ. 
 
 The kXEyKTiKci are preferred. 
 XXIV. Apparent enthymems are, 
 
 1. Trapa Tr)y Xi^w. 1. to /xr) avXXoyKTdfXEVov crvfivEpatT/iaTt- 
 KWQ TO teXevtoIov eiiteXv. 2. TO TTapci Ti)v bixiavvjxlav. 
 
 2. TO StripTJixEvov avvTiQivTa XiyEiv, tj ro avyKEifiEVOV Ziai- 
 povvTa. 
 
 3. TO Zeivwoei KaTatTKEvd'CEiv, r] avacTKEva^Eiv, OTav jxri Ssi'^ac, 
 oTi ETToiyaEV, av^riirj) to irpayfia. 
 
 4. TO EK arifiEiov. 
 
 5. Zia TO avfifiEliriKOS. 
 
 6. irapa. to EwofjEvov. 
 
 7. irapa to dvahiov die a'lTiov. 
 
 8. naph Tr]V eXXeit^iv tov ttote Kai iruig. 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETOKIC. 399 
 
 9. &<nrtp kv rote ipLOTtKois vapa to aTrXwE Kai fxr) aiikSiq, aXXo 
 Ti, ylyverai (paivifxtvoQ avWoyiafxoq' from what is not curXws 
 ekoc, but Ti UKog. 
 
 XXV. Solution of arguments is managed either by an 
 dvTiorvXKoyiafibe or ivaraaiQ. 
 
 3. "EvtTracrtc is fourfold. 1. etc raiiTOv. 2. e/c tov bfxoiov. 
 3. kic TOV kvavTiov. 4. kx tCov KtKpijJijiivuv. 
 
 8. Since enthymems are derived from ukoq, irapaleiyfia, 
 TtKjxripiov, and arifitiov, and since the inferences from what is 
 usual are kx tuiv ehdTav, but those from tTraywyi) are derived 
 Std irapaSeiyiiaTOQ, but avayKoia, Sid TtKfiripiov, and those 
 drawn from what holds good or not, either universally or par- 
 ticularly, are 2ia arjfidojv, and as tkoc is only kvl to iroXii, it is 
 plain that all reasonings may be got rid of by objection. 
 
 9. H ^e Xvcric (paivofiEvrj, aXX' ovk dXridi)^ ahi' ov yctp, oti 
 ovK tiKoe, Xv£t kvinTcijievoQ, dXK' on ovk dvaynaiov. Aio Kal 
 aei kffTL irXeoveKTeiv airoXoyovfievov fidXXov rj KaTrjyopovvTttf hia 
 TOVTOv TOV TrapaXoyKTfiov. 
 
 12. AveTOi Sk Kal ra (rrifieia, Kal to. Biii arjfitiov kvQvfirifiara 
 iipiqfiij'a, Kav ij virap-)(0VTa, since davXXoyiarov kdTi wav arifiilov. 
 
 13. The same Xvaig applies to rk TrapaStiyjuarciJij Kal to. 
 eiKOTa' kav yap ej^WjUEv tl ov-)(_ ovtiiiq, XiXvrai, but, if the major 
 part be against us, we must strive to show on oix ofxoiov to 
 Trapov. 
 
 14. But TCKfirjpta Kal TCK/jripiwSri kv6vfir)fiaTa Kara ftkv to 
 davXXoyiuTov ovk eVrat Xvtrai. 
 
 XXVI. To ail^Eiv Kal fjieiovv ouk iariv kvdvjiyiixaTOQ oroi- 
 Xfiov, but they are ivdv/xrifiaTa irpde to lei^ai, OTt jjikya t) 
 fiiKpov. 
 
 3. Oiik ra Xvtlko. kvOvfiTiixaroi cJSos ti kaTiv aXko tUv Kara- 
 <TKevaaTiKwv. 
 
 4. Nor is 'ivoTaaiQ an enthymem, but ro i.Wtiv lo^av Tivd, 
 kl, i\q 'karai SrjXov, oti ov avXXtXoyiaTai, ?j on iptvSos ti eiXtj^ev. 
 
400 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 BOOK ni. 
 
 I. — 1. Three points to be considered in a speech, iriang, 
 Xt'^ig, and rd^tg. 
 
 2. We may treat of Xi^ig, for it is not sufficient ix^iv, a. Bti 
 \iyeiv, aW a.va.yKr\ koI raOra, oic Sel, t'nrelv. 
 
 3. Now vwoKptaiQ has been omitted, which indeed came late 
 into Tragedy and Rhapsody, for the poets at first recited their 
 own verses. 
 
 4. It consists in three things, fieyeOoc, apfiovia, pvdfioe- 
 
 6. After showing its disadvantages, Aristotle observes, to 
 fiEV oiv Tfjg Xt'^EWC 0|U(i)s E)^Et ri fiiKpov dvayKoiov tv Train) Zi- 
 Sa<rKaXi<f Siafipei yap tl irpoc to SriXuiaai, wSl rj tiSi e'lWEiv, ov 
 fiivToi ToaovToV aXX a-rravTa (pavraaia ravTO. eoTi, Koi irpo£ Toy 
 aKpoaTTiv. ' 
 
 7. The effect of it is the same as that produced by acting. 
 
 8. The poets first made it their study, then the rhetoricians, 
 after which it fell ofi", as the tragic poets have changed from 
 tetrametre to Iambics. 
 
 II. Two dpiTal Xe^ewj. 1. aaipfj elvai, 2, fifi Tazcivriv, 
 juqrt i/TTEp TO dl,i(i>fia, dXXa Tpiirovaav. 
 
 2. The former virtue is obtained by the use of nvpia ovofiara, 
 the latter by to. oKKa, Zio Set ttou'lv i,ivriv Tr)v hidXeKTov, be- 
 cause the hearers are BavfjiaaTai tUv dirovToiv. 
 
 3. This is more easy and suitable in poetry, hence in prose 
 Stl Xavdavuv TrowvVTae, Kal fiij ZoKeiv Xiyeiv TTETrXaffjuEvwc, 
 aXXa jTE^uicorws' tovto yap iridavov, eKeivo Be Tohvavriov. 
 
 5. Of the many species of nouns yXwrraig fiev, koi dnrXole 
 ovojiaai, Kol itexoiijjueVoic, oXiyaKiQ kcu oXiyayov j^p-qaTioV iiri 
 TO fiEi'Cov yap E^aXXarrEi Tov irpiivovTog. 
 
 6. To Se Kvpiov kclL to oIkiIov, Kal fiera^opa, fiovai ■^pijaifwi 
 Trpoe ri)v tS>v \IjiXSv Xoyuv Xi^iy' oti tovtoiq fiovoiQ wavrec 
 XpiivTat' TraiTES yap jj-traifopdiQ ZiaXlyovrai, Koi to'iq oheiois, 
 Kal To'ts Kvpioie. Hence if any one form his discourse well, 
 eorat te S,evik6v, Kai Xavdaveiv evSi^eTai, Kal (7a(j>riviEl, 
 
 7. ofiwyvniai are useful to the sophist, avvb}vvjxa and Kvpm 
 to the poet. 
 
 8. To trafes, Kal to r/Sv, Kal to i,eviKbv £j(Et [laXiara fi 
 fiCTatpopd. ' 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 401 
 
 9. Atl ?£ Kal TO. ividETa, Koi rag fUTafopag apfioTToiaae Xiyeir, 
 1. e. £K Tov dvaXoyov, 
 
 10. Kai iav i^oajjit'iv jiovkr], drro roS jiiKriovoe twv kv ravrij 
 yevet tptpetv rijv fiEratpopav, ear Se i^/eyetv, ciTro ruty '^€ip6v(i)v. 
 
 11. EoTi ?£ KOI Iv rale avWapaig ajiapria, thv fiff 7]luas i] 
 
 12. Ou TToppiiiBEV SeT, aW tc tUv trvyytvuiv xaX tu>v bfiotiZiov 
 fiETa^ipELv TO. dywvvfia wvofiaff^ivwc, o Xe-^Oev hrjXov ioTLV on 
 avyyEvEQ. 
 
 13. Kai a?ro KaiKwv j) r^ ifxiivri, ») 7^ ZvvafXEi, ij t^ o;|/fi, ^ aXXt/ 
 rtvt aiirdrjirei. 
 
 14. And epithets may be deiived oto favXov v ala-xpov, or 
 oTTTo row pEXrlovoe, and we may also make use of vTiOKopiayioc. 
 
 III. "^vxph are produced in four ways : 
 
 1. Ev Tolg ^LTrXolc ovofiaaLV, 
 
 2. EV -a ^p^o-flat yXwTTaiQ. 
 
 3. EC Tole iiriQETOiQ, TO Tj fjoKpolS) V aKaipois, ij ■h-vkvoIc 
 ■XprjaOai. 
 
 4. /jErafopal dirpETZE'is, ai jjlev Sia to yEXo'iov, al ce ?ia to 
 CE^vov ayav Kai TpayiKOV, 
 
 IV. Simile akin to metaphor. Examples. 
 
 V. 'Apxi? r^c Xe^eiuq to 'EXXrjvi^Eiv. And this is produced 
 in four ways : 
 
 1. EV To'lQ nvvtEdjioig. 
 
 2. EV TO) to'lq IStoie ovo/iaai XiyEiv, Kai fir) to'iq ivEpiE^ovai 
 
 3. ^^7 af.i<pil36XoiQ. 
 
 4. EV tw to. yEvri tUv ovofiaTOiv appEva, koX dr/XEa, cat aKEvjj 
 drroCL^Ovat opdwc, 
 
 5. EV tui to. TToWa, Kal oXiya, Kal iv, op6cSe ovofia^ELV. 
 
 6. "OXwg Se JeT EvavayvwuTOV Eivai to yEypajjjXEvov, Kai 
 Eu^paarov and this must not depend upon the punctuation. 
 
 7. It causes a solecism, jxfi aTtoiiZovai, lav jj.ri E-Kil,EvyvvriQ 
 dfJ<j>o7v, apyoTTEi. 
 
 And it is indistinct, av fxri TpodElg EtTrjjc, ijieXXuv ttoXXo /xe- 
 TaL,v EnpaXXEiv. 
 
 VI. To produfce oyxoQ, the following rules contribute : 
 
 1. TO Xdyfc) xp^ffSat avT ovo/xaTOe. 
 
 2. lav alaxpov ri Iv rw Xoyw, Tovvofia Xsystv, and vice versa. 
 
 3. fiETatpopalg SriXovv, Kal ETridiToig, EvXajiovfiEVOV to 7rot7)rt(cd;'. 
 
 4. TO EV TToXXa ttoie'iv. 
 
 5. firi EWL^Evyvvvai. 
 
 2 o 
 
402 APPENDIX TO THE ANALYSIS 
 
 6. lAETci ovviiajiov \iyuv. 
 
 7. By negative epithets. 
 
 VII. — 1. To Se Tvpkirov i^Ei. jy Xe'Jic, £«>' y wadriTtKri rt. mi 
 ?)6iKi), K-at toIq viroKeifiivoiQ irgayiiaaiv dvlCKoyov. But dvakoyov 
 is, kav ixrire Trepi EioyKwc aiiTOKajiiaXug XeyrjTai, fxr]Tt Trepi 
 evTcXuiv otfivSit' f"?S' £1"' rj) EirsXEi ovofxaTi ettj} KOUfiOQ. In- 
 stances. See Hobbes. 
 
 VIII. On the rhythms. See the notes, p. 227, sq. 
 
 XI. "Elpofiivij Xi^ie, fj oiiSev e^ei teXoq Kafl* avrfiv, av /i») ro 
 Trpayfia Xeyo/xevov TtXetiodrj. 
 
 Kartarpafifiivri, if iv irepwBoig. And trepioSoe is defined to 
 be Xe'Jic £)(OU!ra a'pxijv Kai reXEur^v avrfiv Kaff avrfiv, Koi fjtiye- 
 doc EvavvoTTTov sxiA it must finish with the sense, and not be 
 cut oflt'. 
 
 5. IlEpioSos ?£, fj fiev Iv KiiXoiQ' ^ Zk acfieXrig. "ILuti Sk kv 
 KtoXoiQ fjLEV Xk^ie II TETeXEiwuEVT] TE Koi SijjpTjfiEvr;, KoX (vavdwEv- 
 UTOQ, fj.fl kv rr; hiaipkaei, Cjmrep ri Eipr/jntV?) wtpioSoe, dXX' oXrj. 
 KuiXov S' kuTi TO ETEpov jjiOpiov TavTii)Q. 'Ac^eXtj Ze Xiyii) TrjV 
 fiovoKuiXov. 
 
 7. And fi kv KwXoie is either StjjpijjuEv?) or avTiKEiiiivrj. 
 
 9. Jiapojioiioaie is when ofxoia ra kV^^ara £)^»j EKCLTEpov tSiv 
 
 Kb)\t3jV. 
 
 X. — 2. Since to fiavQavEiv pqZiwQ r]Zv (j)vaEi iraaiv, Kvpia, 
 lxETaij>opal, and eIkoveq chiefly contribute to the fundamental 
 principle of elegance, fiadrine. 
 
 4. 'AvayKTi Sfi, Kai Xi^iv, Koi Evdvfififiara TavTa Eivai duTEla, 
 oaa ttoieT, ^jjCiv fxaQrjaiv raj^Eiav. 
 
 0. Kai k'av dvTiKEijikviiiQ XkyriTai. 
 
 7. Of the four kinds of metaphors, al sar' dvaXoyiav evlo- 
 Kijiovai jiaXiBTa. 
 
 XI. — 1. A man is said iroiEiv irpo b)iii.a.Tiov, oaa kvEpyovvra 
 (Trjfiuivtt. See Hobbes, p. 337. 
 
 XII. Each kind of oratory has its proper Xe'^ic. 
 
 Now the Xe'^ic ypafLKr) is fj aKpiPcaTciTr)' but the dyuiviuTiKii 
 is }j vTroKpiTucwTaTrj. Taunjc Sk Svo I'lZri' rj fxkv yap };8iK^' ij is 
 iraOriTiKr]. 
 
 4. And SrjfirjyopiKr) Xk'iig iravTEXZe eoike ttj (TKiaypatpiiji. 
 
 5. ii Se ZiKTi aKpifikoTEpov. 
 
 6. 7j Sk IttiSeiktik)) Xe'Jic ypa(piK<i)Ta.Tri' SEvTtpa St fj hiKaviKri. 
 Xni.. — 1. The parts of a speech are two, dvayKoiov yap, 
 
 TO vpdyfia EivE~iv, TTEpi o5, Kai tovt diro^El^ai. 
 
OF ARISTOTLE'S RHETORIC. 403 
 
 2. Hence the irpodsiTie and ■klcitiq are ra dyayKoia fiopta. 
 
 4. But there are in all four, irpooifiwv, vpodecne, miotic, 
 EiriXoyos. 
 
 XrV. Upool^wv koTiv dp\ri Xoyov* otrep kv TroiytT^i irpoXoyoc, 
 Kal iv avkqaEi. TrpoavXiov. For this and the next chapter, see 
 Hobbes, p. 339, sqq. 
 
 XVI. Airiyriaie 2' iv fiiv Toig kinSetKTiKoic iariv ovK IfEltji, 
 dWa. Kara nipoQ. 
 
 4. In Siicavdn), the Siqyj/iric must be clear, and the orator 
 should, by a irapaSiriyriaiQ, tell oira eig Tr)v tavTOv dptrfiv <l>ipci, 
 t) daripov KaKiav, rj otra ijMa toIq SiKaardie. 
 
 7. TlETrpayfiiva Sei \iyeiv, oaa fifi irpaTTOfieva Tj oTktov, ij 
 ZEivii)inv ipipci. 
 
 8. And the Icnyriijig must be riQucr). 1. By showing the 
 irpoalptaii. 2. to. eTTOfieva eKaaTU) ijdct. 3. /jj) we dwo diavoiac 
 Xiyciv, dXX' iig aVo irpoaipiireiDQ. 
 
 10. "Ert, EK rwv iradriTiKoiy Xt'yt, Zir]yovjiivoQ koX to. IwofiEva, 
 KOI & laain, Kal ra ISi'j 5 avrS, jj tKiivif Trpoaovra. Kai cvOvg 
 Etffatraye ffeavrov ttoiov riva, \va wg tolovtov Qeupwoi, Ka\ tov 
 dvriSiKov' Xavddvav St ttoIcl. 
 
 11. But in Sr]fir]yopii}, Stjjyi/ins is least used, and only vepi 
 fieKKovTUv, iva dva^vij(r6£Vr£c; l/ceiVwv piKriov fiovXtvaiavraL 
 vepl Tu>v vaTEpov. 
 
 XVH. IIierTEts must be aVo^fUTiKai, upon four points. 
 See Hobbes, p. 348, sq. As also for the two next chapters. 
 
 THE END. 
 
THE POETIC. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 On Poetry in general, as an imitative Art, and its different 
 Species. 
 
 Let us speak concerning poetry itself, and its [dif- 1- On Po- 
 ferent] species' ; what power each possesses, and how '^^' '** 
 fables must be composed, in order that poetry may and spe- 
 be such as is fitting : further still, [let us show] of cies. 
 how many and what kind of parts it consists ; and 
 in like manner [let us treat] concerning such other 
 things as pertain to this method, beginning, con- 
 formably to nature, first from such things as are 
 first. 
 
 The epopee, therefore, and tragic poetry, and 2. The 
 moreover comedy, and dithyrambic poetry, and the ™^t**>™ 
 greatest part of the art pertaining to the flute and 
 the lyre^, are all entirely imitations^. They differ, 3. Their 
 however, in three things ; for [they differ] either by differ- 
 imitating through means difierent in kind, or by imi- ^°™' 
 tating different' objects, or in a difierent, and not after 
 the same manner. For as certain persons assimi- 4. 
 lating, imitate many things by colours and figures, 
 some indeed through art, but others through custom, 
 [and others through voice]*; thus also in the afore- 
 
 ^ " Poesis in species sive formas (stStj), formse rursus in 
 partes (ii.6pia, fiipri) dividuntur." Ritter. 
 
 ' Cf. Plato Theag. p. 10. C. Cithern-playing was one of the 
 favourite accomplishments of the Athenian youth, ibid. p. 8. E. 
 Alcib. Pr. p. 26. D.. Laem. and Olympiodor. in eund. t. ii. p. 
 65. ed. Creuz. 
 
 ' See Ritter, and Twining's Dissertations and first note. 
 
 * Hermann reads ^uo-eojs for </>t<ii/5s with Madius, hut Ritter 
 condemns the words as spurious. 
 2 E 
 
408 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. i. 
 
 mentioned arts, all of them indeed produce imTtation 
 
 in rhythm, words, and harmony ; and in these, either 
 
 distinctly, or mingled together, as, for instance, the 
 
 arts of the flute and the lyre alone employ harmony 
 
 and rhythm'^ ; and this will also he the case with any 
 
 other arts which possess a power of this kind, such 
 
 5. as the art of playing on reed-pipes. But the arts 
 
 Dancing pertaining to dancing imitate by rhythm, without har- 
 
 ^} "■ ^^ mony ; for dancers, through figured rhythms, imitate 
 
 rhythm manners, and passions, and actions. But the epopee 
 
 ™'y- alone imitates by mere words^ or metres, and by these 
 
 epopee by either mingling them with each other, or employing 
 
 ■words. one certain kind of metres, which method has been 
 
 7. Ety- adopted up to the present time''. For otherwise we 
 
 mology of should have no common name, by which we could 
 
 Prot'^'^'' denominate the Mimes of Sophron and Xenarchus, 
 
 and the dialogues of Socrates ; or those who imitate 
 
 by trimetres, or elegies, or certain other things of 
 
 i this kind ; except that men joining with metre the 
 
 verb to make^, call some of these makers of elegies, 
 
 but others epic makers, not as poets according to imi- 
 
 5 Cf. Rhet. ill. 8. 
 
 ^ Thero is much difficulty atout this definition of iiroiroda, 
 as Xo'yois ij/iXoh is supposed by some to mean prose, (see Ro- 
 bortell. p. 14,) by otliers, verse without music. The former 
 opinion is advocated by Hermann, the latter by Buhle. Ritter 
 seems to have clearly shown that ^7 to7s fitTpoLi 'is added, not ' 
 as an explanation of Xoyois i/^iXot?, but disjunctively, and that 
 EiroTroiia is used in a new sense for certain parts of prose-writ- 
 ing as well as verse. The sense is, therefore,- " by prose or by 
 metre, but unaccompanied by song." 
 
 ' Ritter observes that the following passage is an excuse for 
 the new signification of iiroiroua. 
 
 * It may be necessary to observe, that the Greek word 
 (TTotijTj)? — poittes) whence ^oeto, and^oe^, is, literally, maAer ,' 
 and maker, it is well known, was once the current term for 
 poet in our language ; and to write verses, was, to make. Sir 
 Philip Sidney, speaking of the Greek word, says, " wherein, I 
 know not Avhether by luck or wisdom, we Englishmen have 
 met with the Greeks, in calling him maker." Defense of 
 Poesy. 
 
 So Spenser : 
 
 The god of shepherds, Tityrus, is dead, 
 Who taught me, homely, as I can, to make. 
 
 Shep. Cal. June. Twining. 
 
CHAP. 11.] POETIC. 41)9 
 
 tation, but denominating them in common according 
 to measure. For tliey ai-e accustomed tlius to de- 
 nominate them, if they write any thing medical or 8. Which 
 musical in verse. There is, however, nothing com- '^I'^e is 
 mon to Homer and Empedocles except the measure ; ^^ writers 
 on which account, it is right indeed to call the former on other 
 a poet ; but the latter, a physiologist rather than a subjects. 
 poet. In like manner, though some one, mingling all 9. But the 
 the measures, should produce imitation, as Chaere- adherence 
 mon has done in his Centaur, a mixed rhapsody of ^^^^ ^^^ 
 all ^the metres, yet he must not be called a poet '. Let make the 
 it then be thus laid down concerning these particulars. P"'^*- 
 But there are some kinds of poetry which employ all 1". Means 
 the before-mentioned means, I mean, rhythm, melody, iyew em- 
 a^d measuKy such as dithyrambic poetry and the ployed by 
 Nbmes^''^nd also tragedy and comedy. But these *''?^*'^'"' 
 differ, because some of them use all these at once, but ^f poetry, 
 others partially. I speak, therefore, of these differ- 
 ences of the arts in respect to the means by which 
 they produce imitation. 
 
 CHAP. 11. 
 
 On Imitation, and its usual Objects. 
 
 But since imitators imitate those who do some- l. Objects 
 thins, and it is necessary that these should either be of imita- 
 worthy or depraved persons ; (for manners nearly gg„^ ^^ 
 always depend on these alone, since all men differ in bad, as in 
 their manners by vice and virtue ;) it is necessary pamtmg. 
 either [to imitate] those who are better than we are, 
 
 " " For imitation makes the poet, not the metre." Bitter. 
 
 " In dithyrambic or Bacchic hymns, and in the Names, 
 which -were also a species of hymns to Apollo and other 
 deities, all the means of imitation were employed together, and 
 throughout : in tragedy and comedy, separately ; some of them 
 in one part of the drama, and some in another. In the elioral 
 part, however, at least, if no where else, all, melody, rhythm, 
 and words, must probably have been used at once, as in the 
 hymns. Twining. 
 
 2 E 2 
 
410 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. III. 
 
 or those who are worse, or such as axe like ourselves ', 
 
 in the same manner as painters do. For Polygnotus, 
 
 indeed, painted men more beautiful than they are, 
 
 but Pauson less so, and Dionysius painted them as 
 
 2. And they are^. But it is evident that each of the before- 
 
 mutations mentioned imitations will have these differences ; and 
 ainerent. . , . , . t #*» i • 
 
 imitation is diflEerent, by imitating dmerent things 
 
 3. after this manner. For there may be differences of 
 this kind in dancing, in playing on the flute, on the 
 lyre, and also in orations and mere measure. Thus 
 Homer imitates better men^ [than exist], but Cleo- 
 phon men as they are ; and Hegemon the Thasian, 
 who first made parodies, and Nioochares, who wrote ■ 
 
 4. the Deliad, imitate worse characters. In like man- 
 ner in dithyrambics and the Nomi, [as Timotheus 
 and Philoxenus have imitated the Persians and the 
 Cyclops,] one may imitate*. By this very same dif- 
 ference, also, tragedy differs from comedy. For the 
 one seeks to imitate worse, but the other better men 
 than are. 
 
 1. Imita- 
 tions dif- 
 ferent in 
 the man- 
 ner. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The third dijferetiee of Poetry according to the manner 
 of imitating. 
 
 There is also a third difference of these, consist- 
 ing in the manner in which one may imitate each of 
 
 ' Or, " those who are commonly found." 
 
 ^ Polygnotus and Dionysius lived about 01. 80; Pauson 
 about 01. 90. On the following poets see Ritter. 
 
 ' Superior, that is, in courage, strength, wisdom, prudence, 
 etc. — in any laudable, useful, or admirable quality, whether 
 such as we denominate moral, or not. If superiority of moral 
 character only were meant, the assertion would be false. — It is 
 necessary to remember here, the wide sense in which tlie 
 ancients used the terms virtue, vice — good, bad, etc. See note 
 19. — The difference between moral and poetical perfection of 
 character, is well explained by Dr. Beattie, Essay on Poetry, 
 etc., Part I. ch. 4. The heroes of Homer, as he well observes, 
 are "finer a^iimals" than we are, (p. 69,) not better men. 
 Twining. 
 
 * Ritter would throw out the words enclosed in brackets. 
 See his note. 
 
CHAP. III.] POETIC. 411 
 
 them. For by the same instruments the same 
 things may be imitated, the poet sometimes himself 
 narrating, and sometimes assuming another person [as 
 Homer does] ' ; or speaking as the same person with- 
 out any change ; or as all imitate [who do so] by 
 deed and action. But imitation consists in these 2. And 
 three differences, as we said in the beginning ; viz. *^ differ- 
 in the mean s, t he objects, or the manner. Hence, imitation 
 Sophocles will in one respect'BenEE'e'"same imitator are thiee. 
 as Homer, for both of them imitate elevated cha- 
 racters ; and in another the same as Aristophanes, 
 for both of them imitate persons engaged in acting ; 
 [^whence also it is said that certain persons call their 3. Ety-- 
 works dramas, because they imitate those who are ^g^fama 
 engaged in doing something. On this account the andclaims 
 Dorians lay claim to the invention of tragedy and to its in- 
 comedy; of comedy indeed the Megarians, as well ™" °"' 
 those who are natives of Greece, as being invented 
 by them at the time when their government was a 
 democracy, as those of Sicily. For thence was the 
 poet Epicharmus, who was much prior to Chonides 
 and Magnes. But some of those Dorians who inhabit 
 Peloponnesus lay claim to tragedy, making names an 
 evidence. For they allege that they call their 
 villages komai, but the Athenians demoi ; as if 
 comedians were not so denominated from komazein, 
 [i. e. to revel,"] but from their wandering through 
 ■villages, being ignominiously expelled from the cities. 
 The verb poiein also, or to make, is by the Dorians 
 denominated dran, but by the Athenians prattein.'] 
 And thus much concerning the differences of imita- *■ 
 tion, as to their number and quahty. 
 
 ^ But this assertion is not correct, and Ritter shows that the 
 words are spurious. 
 
 2 The learned note of Ritter seems to condemn the whole of 
 this passage as spurious. 
 
412 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. iv. 
 
 Tlie Causes and Progress nf Poetry. 
 
 1. Two Two causes, however, and these physical, appear 
 2^ 0? poe- to ^^^6 produced poetry in general. For ta imitate 
 try, and is congenial to men from childhood. And in this 
 *^°^° , . they differ from other animals, that they are most 
 the first, imitative, and acquire the first disciplines through 
 the na- imitation; and that all men delight in imitations, 
 for'^imita- ^^^ ^^^ evidence of this is that which happens in the 
 tion, works [of artists]. For we are delighted on survey- 
 
 3. seenm j^g very, accurate images, the realities of which are 
 th?works pMnful to the view ; such as the forms of the most 
 of art; contemptible animals, and dead bodies. The cause, 
 
 4. because however, of this is, that learning is not only most de- 
 over plea- lightful to philosophers, but in like manner to other 
 sant. persons, though they partake of it but in a small 
 deheM'in degree. For on this account, men are delighted on 
 images. Surveying images, because it happens that by survey- 
 ing they learn and infer what each particular is ; as, 
 that this is an image of that man; since, unless one 
 happen to have seen [the reality], it is not the imi- 
 tation that pleases \ but [it is through] either the 
 workmanship, or the colour, or some other cause of 
 
 fromhnit- ^^^ ^^^^ kind. But imitation, harmony, and rhythm 
 ation, being natural to us, (for it is evident that measures 
 harmony, q^ metres are parts of rhythms,^ ) the earliest among 
 rhythm, mankind, making a gradual progress in these things 
 
 ' Ritter well reads oiiyi /it/iti/ia ^ fil/iij/xa. 
 
 ^ "Rhythm differs from metre, inasmuch as khtthm is 
 proportion, applied to amj motion whatever ; metre is propor- 
 tion, applied to the motion of words spoken. Thus, in the 
 drumming of a march, or the dancing of a hornpipe, there is 
 rhythm, though no metre.; in Dry den's celebrated Ode there is 
 METRE as -well as rhythm, because the poet with the rhythm 
 has associated certain words. And hence it follows, that, though 
 
 ALL METRE is RHYTHM, yet ALL RHYTHM is NOT METRE." Har- 
 ris's Philol. Inquiries, p. 67, — where it is also observed, very 
 truly, that " no English word expresses rhythmus better than 
 the word time." P. 69, note. Twining. 
 
cuAr. IV.] POETIC. 413 
 
 from the beginning, produced poetry from extempo- rat^ti ori- 
 
 raneous efforts. But poetry was divided according p^^^^i^efj 
 
 to appropriate manners. For men of a more vener- poetry, 
 
 able character imitated beautiful actions, and the 7- -n-Mch 
 
 actions of such men ; but the more ignoble imitated ^^^ g^^. 
 
 the actions of depraved characters, first composing cording to 
 
 vituperative verses, in the same manner as the others ^^'t^''''^ 
 
 T 1 T • /^p 1 1 manners, 
 
 composed hymns and encommms. Or the authors, 
 
 therefore, before Homer, we cannot mention any poem 8. No sati- 
 of this kind ; thou'>;h it is probable that there were "'^''^, P?^' 
 many such writers. But if we begin from Homer, Homer's 
 there are such for instance as his Margites^, and some Margites. 
 others, in which, as being suited, the measure is 
 Iambic. Hence, also, the Iambic verse is now called, 
 because in this metre they used to lambize (i. e. de- 
 fame) each other. Of ancient poets, likewise, some 9. The old 
 composed heroic poems, and others Iambic. But as Fu^^. 
 Homer Was the greatest of poets on serious subjects, -were ei- 
 (and this not only because he alone imitated well, but th^r hero- 
 also because he made dramatic imitations,) thus too jjj"'^ '^™' 
 he first demonstrated the figures of comedy, not dra- 
 matically exhibiting invective, but ridicule. For the 
 Margi tes bears the same analogy to comedy, as the 
 IHad and Odyssey to tragedy. But when tragedy lo. Pro- 
 and comedy had appeared, those poets who were na- P"^^ 'f 
 turally impelled to each kind of poetry, some, instead styles, 
 of writing Iambics, became comic poets, but others, upon the 
 instead of [writing] epic poems, became the authors i?t'^'"l"<=- 
 of tragedies, because these forms [of poetry] are tragedy 
 greater and more esteemed than those. To con- and 
 sider, therefore, whether tragedy is now perfect J°"^"y- 
 in its species or not, regarded as well with refer- 
 ence to itself as to the theatres, is the business of 12. Both 
 another treatise. Both tragedy and comedy, there- ^^pora-" 
 fore, at first originated from extemporaneous efforts, neons. 
 
 3 The character of the hero is handed down to us thus : 
 
 Toy 5' ovT ap (TKairTTJpc dsoi Ssffav ovt' dpoTJjpa 
 
 OUT aXXws TE aoipov, -Traffjjs 5' ^fjiupravE T£)(yjjs. 
 And again, 
 
 TToXK' 7}-7rL(rTaTO tpya, KaKto^ S' ijiriaTaTO iravTa. 
 A character not unlike Sir Abel Handy in Morton's " School 
 of Reform." 
 
414 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [OHAP. IV. 
 
 13. ^S- 
 
 chylus 
 improves 
 tragedy, 
 and then 
 Sopho- 
 cles, 
 
 U. It be- 
 comes 
 elevated 
 in style. 
 
 Suitable- 
 ness of the 
 Iambic 
 metre. 
 
 15. 
 
 And tragedy, indeed, originated from those who led 
 the dithyramb, but comedy from those who sung the 
 Phallic verses, which even now in many cities re- 
 main in use ; and it gradually increased as obvious 
 improvements became known. And tragedy, having 
 experienced many changes, rested when it had ar- 
 rived at its proper nature, -.^schylus, also, first in- 
 creased the number of players from one to two^, 
 abridged the functions of the chorus, and made one 
 of the players act the chief part*. But Sophocles in- 
 troduced three players into the scene, and added 
 scenic painting. Further still, the magnitude [of 
 tragedy increased] from small fables and ridiculous 
 diction, in consequence of having been changed from 
 satyric^ composition, it was late before it acquired 
 dignity. The metre also of tragedy, from tetrameter, 
 became Iambic (for at first they used tetrameter in 
 tragedy, because poetry was then satyrical, and more 
 adapted to the dance, but dialogue being adopted, 
 nature' herself discovered a suitable metre ; for the 
 Iambic measure is most of all adapted to conversation. 
 And as an evidence of this, we most frequently speak 
 in Iambics in familiar discourse with each other ; but 
 we seldom speak in hexameters, and then only when 
 we depart from that harmony which is adapted to 
 conversation). Again, tragedy is said to have been 
 further adorned, with a multitude of e pisodes, and 
 other particulars. Let, therefore, thus mhch said 
 suffice concerning these things ; for it would perhaps 
 be a great toil to discuss every particular. 
 
 * See my introduction to ^^schylus, p. vii. ed. Bolm. 
 
 ^ See ibid. note. 
 
 ^ Satyric, from the share which those fantastic beings called 
 Satyrs, the companions and play -fellows of Bacchus, had in the 
 earliest Tragedy, of which they formed the chorus. Joking and 
 dancing were essential attributes of these rustic semi-deities. 
 Hence the ^'ludici-ous language" and the " daTiciJig g&xius'* 
 of the old Tragedy, to which the trochaic or running metre 
 here spoken of was peculiarly adapted ; being no other than 
 this ; 
 
 " Jolly mortals, fill your glasses, noble deeds are done by 
 
 wine." 
 The reader will not confound saiyric with satiric ; nor the 
 
CHAP. V.J POETIC. J 15 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 0» Comedy, and its Origin. — Difference of Epopee atid 
 Tragedy. 
 
 But comedy is, as we have sai(i,^n__imitaticin in- i. Come- 
 deed of bad ch aracters^et it does not imitate tliem dy an im- 
 according to^ery viciTXbut the ridiculous only;] the^rSi-^ 
 since the ridiculous is a portion of tm^Htjide. For culous. 
 the ridiculous is a certain error, anSturpitude un- 
 attended with pain, and not destructive. Thus, for 
 instance, a ridiculous face is something deformed and 
 distorted without pain. The transitions, therefore, 2. Its 
 of tragedy, and the causes through which they are <=lianges , 
 produced, are not unknown ; but [those of] comedy known, 
 have escaped our knowledge, because it was not at 
 first an object of attention. For it was late before 
 the magistrate gave a chorus to comedians ' ; but 
 prior to that period, the choruses were voluntary. 
 Comedy, however, at length having obtained a certain 
 form, those who are said to have been poets therein 
 are commemorated. But it is unknown who it was 3. Nor 
 that introduced masks or prologues,' or a multitude '^^ '°' 
 of players, and such like particulars. But Epichar- mas!^'^ ° 
 mus and Phormis [were the first] to compose fa- etc. 
 bles ; which, therefore, originated from Sicily. But 
 among the Athenians, Crates, rejecting the Iambic^ 
 
 Greek satyric drama with the satire of Roman origin. See 
 Harris's Phil. Arrang. p. 460, note. Dacier's Preface to Ho- 
 race's Satires. The two words are of different derivations. 
 Twining. 
 
 ' This was almost equivalent to the modern "licensing" of 
 plays, but was prohably conducted with more taste and less 
 absurdity. The poet was said aWtXy xopo^j the choragus 
 oiootiai, and, if the piece was approved by the archon, the poet 
 Xopov 'iXa^E. See Ritter. 
 
 ^ But this is evidently corrupt. Ritter reads Xo'yous with Her- 
 mann, understanding those passages which the single actor 
 either recited, or spoke in conversation with the chorus, op- 
 posing Xoyot itiroKpLTOiV to the a(TfiaTa KtofiayStJbv. 
 
 ^ Iambic, i. e. satirical, and personally so, like the old Iambi, 
 
416 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. VI. 
 
 4. Simi- 
 larity of 
 tragedy 
 to epic 
 poetry. 
 
 5. Their 
 common 
 and dis- 
 tinctive 
 parts. 
 
 form, first began generally to compose speeches and 
 fables. The epopee, therefore, is an attendant on 
 tragedy, [with the exception of the long metre*,] 
 since t}irough this it is_ a,nJfflitatioji.of jgnrthy cha- 
 .jacters and actions. But it differs from tragedy in 
 that it has a simple metre, and is a narration. It 
 ■ also [differs from it] in length. For tragedy is 
 /especially limited by one period of the sun, or ad- 
 mits but a small variation from this period ; but the 
 epopee is not defined within a certain time, and in 
 this it differs ; though at first they observed the 
 same conduct with tragedy', no less than epic po- 
 etry. With respect to the parts, however, [of the 
 epopee and tragedy,] some are the same in both, but 
 others are peculiar to tragedy. Hence he who knows 
 what is a good or bad tragedy, knows the same in 
 respect to epic poetry. For those things which the 
 epopee possesses are to be found in tragedy; but 
 every thing which tragedy contains is not in the 
 epopee. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 On the Form and End of Tragedt), and on its six parts, 
 especially the Plot. 
 
 1. Concerning, therefore, imitative poetry in hexame- 
 ters, and comedy, we shall speak hereafter. Let us 
 now, however, speak concerning tragedy, assuming 
 the definition of its essence as arising from what has 
 2. Defini- been already said. Tragedy, therefore, is an imita- 
 tion of fioji qJ jj worthy or illustrious and perfect action, 
 
 invectives, or lampoons, of -which Aristotle speaks above, and 
 from which the Iambic metre, which is not here alluded to, 
 took its name. . Twining. 
 
 * The words ^^XP' ij^ovov fitTpou ^ayaXou or fitT& Xoyov are 
 thrown out by Ritter, and can have no meaning. 
 
 * On the question of the unities, see Twining, note 43, and 
 my own note on JJsch. Bum. 235. 
 
CHAP. VI.] POETIC. 4nx 
 
 possessing magnitude, in pleasing language, using 
 separately the several species of imitation in its parts, 
 by men acting, and not through narration, through 
 pity and fear effecting a purification from such like , 
 passions^. But hj pleasing language, I mean Ian- 3_ its lan- 
 guage possessing rhythm, harmony, and melody, guage, 
 And it uses separately the several species \of imita- ^^^ 
 tion], because some parts of the tragedy are alone manners 
 perfected through metres, and others again through of imita- 
 melody. But since they produce imitation by act- 4°^f"i 
 ing, in the first place the ornament of the spectacle^ scenery, 
 will be a certain part of the tragedy, and in the next ^^l"- 
 place the melopoeia' and the diction. For by these diction, 
 they produce imitation. But I call diction, indeed, 
 the composition of the metres ; and melopoeia that, 
 the whole power of which is apparent. Since, how- 5. Two 
 
 ever, rtragedyl is an imitation of action, and action '^^'^'^^ °f 
 
 /^ ^ 11 . 1 11 action, 
 
 is eflected by certain agents, who must needs be per- senti- 
 
 sons of a certain description both as to their manners ments, 
 
 and their sentiments'*, (for from these we say that ^^y™" 
 
 '■ On the different interpretations of this diifioult passage, 
 see Twining, note 45. Ritter has followed the views of Les- 
 sing, in a note too full of argument to admit of condensation. 
 Taylor's note is, as usual, a blundering Neo-Platonio attempt 
 to reconcile the discrepancies of Aristotle and Plato. 
 
 ^ Decoration — literally, the decoration of the spectacle, or 
 sight. In other places it is called the spectacle, or sight only 
 — o»|/tff. It comprehends scenery, dresses — the whole visible 
 apparatus of the theatre. I do not know any single English 
 word that answers fully to the Greek word. Twining. 
 
 ^ Melopceia — literally, the jnaJdng, or the composition^ of the 
 Music ; as we use Epopceia, or according to the French termina- 
 tion, which we have naturalized. Epopee, to signify epic poetry, 
 or epic-making, in general. — I might have rendered it, at once, 
 the MDSic ; but that it would have appeared ridiculous to ob- 
 serve, of a word so familiar to us, even that " its meaning is 
 obvious." Twining. 
 
 * Dianoia — otavoia, in a general way, may be defined to be 
 Su^oSiKi] ToD Xoyov kvsoyEia, i. e. the discursive energy of reor- 
 son. But accurately speaking, it is that power of soul which 
 reasons scientifically, deriving theprindpTes of its reasoning from 
 intellect. This latter definition, however, pertains to it, so far 
 as it is not influenced in its reasonings by imagination and false 
 opinions. Taylor, who objects to translating it " sentiments." 
 I prefer following Twining, understanding sentiments not ex- 
 
418 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. ti. 
 
 actions derive their quality,) hence there are naturally 
 two causes of actions, sentiments and moral hahit, 
 aniT through these- actions all men obtain or fail of 
 
 6. Definl- the object of their wishes. But a fable, indeed, is 
 tion of fa- ^^ imitation of action ; for I mean by a fable here, 
 ners Tnd ^^^ composition of incidents. By manners, I mean 
 senti- those things according to which we say that agents 
 ment. j^j.g persons of a certain character ; and by sentiment, 
 
 that through which those who speak demonstrate any 
 
 7. Six thing, or explain their meaning. It is necessary, 
 parts m therefore, that the parts of every tragedy should be 
 ''edT. ^^^) from which the tragedy derives its quality. But 
 
 these are, fable and manners, diction and sentiment, 
 spectacle and melopoeia.' Of these parts, however, 
 two pertain to the means by which they imitate ; one, 
 to the manner; and three, to the objects^. And be- 
 
 8. Some sides these, there are no other. [Not a few [tragic 
 
 tragic po- poetsl therefore, as I may say, use all these parts^.l 
 
 ets use all ^ -^ ^ :i i. ■ ^ 
 
 these ^^^ every tragedy has scenic apparatus, manners, 
 
 parts. and a fable, and melody, and, in a similar manner, 
 
 sentiment. But the greatest of these is the combina- 
 
 9. Trage- tion of the incidents. For tragedy is an imitation not 
 dy an imi- gf j^en, but of actions, [of life, and of felicity. For 
 actions, infelicity consists in action, and the end is a certain 
 
 10. What action, and not a quality^.] Men, however, are per- 
 t"? ^''h ^""^ °^ ^ certain character, according to their man- 
 racter. ners ; but according to their actions, they are happy. 
 Manner or the contrary. The end of tragedy, therefore, 
 endof tra- ^°^^ '^°^ consist in imitating manners, but it embraces 
 gedy; manners on account of actions; so that the action 
 
 11. but anij the fable are the end of tragedy. But the end 
 is the greatest of all things. Moreover, without ac- 
 tion, tragedy cannot exist ; but it may exist without 
 
 Ail 
 
 pressed, (yi/ii/iai, cf. Rhet. ii. 21,) but in the mind, and form- 
 ing the mainspring of action. 
 
 ° i. e. Xt'fis and /xiKowoUa are the means or instruments, 
 01//-IS the manner, juuflos, ^dri, and diavoia, the objects. 
 
 * An evident interpolation. See Ritter. 
 
 ' Thus stands the text, as freed from the additions made by 
 Aldus, or other Italian critics. But the whole passage is pro- 
 bably an interpolation, as Ritter seems -to have clearly shown. 
 See his judicious note. 
 
CHAP. VI.] POETIC. 419 
 
 manners. For most modern tragedies are -without 
 manners ; and in short, many poets are such as 
 among painters Zeuxis is when compared with Poly- 
 gnotus. For Polygnotus, indeed, painted the man- 
 ners of the good ; but the pictures of Zeuxis are 
 without manners. Further still, if any one place in 12. Proof, 
 a continued series moral speeches, sajdngs, and senti- 
 ments well framed, he will not produce that which is 
 the work of tragedy ; but that will be much more a 
 tragedy, which uses these things as subordinate, and 
 which contains a fable and combination of incidents. 
 Add to this, that the greatest parts by which fable 13. The 
 allures the soul, are the revolutions and discoveries. «^ j 
 Again, it is likewise an evidence of this, that those discovery 
 who attempt to write tragedies, acquire the power of <^^^^^ 
 expressing a thing in tragic diction and manners ac- ""f " 
 curately, before they can compose a fable, as was the 14. Proof 
 case with nearly all the first poets. The fable, there- f.°J? ^^^ 
 fore, i sthe pri ncipal pa rt, andas it wflcejlia-soul of offormmg 
 tragedyTimfftemanners'are next_inj;ank^. [Just as a plot. 
 in painting, if any one were to spread the most beauti- ^^- .Com- 
 ful pigments on promiscuously, he would not please painting, 
 the view so much as by outlining an image with white 
 colour only. Tragedy also is an imitation of action, 
 and on this account, especially, [an imitation] of 
 agents. But the sentiments rank third. And by them 16. Defi- 
 [I mean] me jto/uHV explaining what is inherent ^j,™ ° 
 in the subject, and adapted to it, which is the pecu- ment. 
 liar province of politics' and rhetoric. For the an- 
 cient poets represent those whom they introduce as 
 speaking politically ; but those of the present day, 
 rhetorically. But the maimers are, whatever shows 17. Of 
 what the deliberate choice is. Hence those speeches ™''°°J'^ 
 
 . , . 1 . , , . , , and of 
 
 are without manners, m which there is altogether senti- 
 ment. 
 
 ' The rest of this chapter is condemned by Ritter as an in- 
 terpolation. 
 
 ^ The reader, here, must not think of our modem politics. 
 ' — The political, or civil art, or seieiice, -was, in Aristotle's view, 
 of wide extent and high importance. It comprehended ethics 
 and eloquence, or the art of puhlic speaking ; every thing, in 
 short, that concerned the well-being of a state. — See note 57. 
 Twining. 
 
420 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. vii. 
 
 nothing that the speaker may choose or avoid'". But 
 sentiment is that through which they show that a cer- 
 tain thing is, or is not, or by which they universally 
 
 18. Of ewMwciate «OOTe<Ai»g'. _A£dJi£Jow?th.^apt-ef-tr-age(3y 
 diction, jg dictiflfl. But I say, as was before observed, that 
 
 Wciwnis interpretation by the means of words, and 
 which also has the same power in verse and prose. 
 
 19. Melo- But of the remaining fiye,^the melopceia.isJJie.great- 
 poEia and ggj. q£ ^j^g embellishments. But the scenic decora- 
 the latter tion^s alluring indeed ; yet it is most inartificial, 
 least per- and is in the smallest degree akin to poetry. For 
 ^aimng to ^^ power of tragedy remains, even when unaccom- 
 panied with scenic apparatus and players. And 
 further still, the art of the mechanic possesses more 
 power in constructing the scenic apparatus than that 
 
 . ' of the poet.] 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 On the Requisites and Length of Tragic Action. 
 
 1. Defini- These things being defined, let us in the next place 
 tion of a show what the combination of the incidents ought to 
 ^° ' be, since this is the first and greatest part of tragedy. 
 
 fe. But it is granted to us, that tragedy is the imitation 
 / of a perfect and whole action, and of one which pos- 
 ( sesses a certain magnitude ; for there may be a whole 
 3. Of a which has no magnitude. But a whole is that which' 
 dramatic has a beginning, middle, and end. And the begin- 
 ^JjJ^jjJ ning is that which necessarily is not itself posterior 
 parts. to another thing ; but another thing is naturally ex- 
 pected to follow if. On the contrary, the end is that 
 which is itself naturally adapted to be posterior to an- 
 other thing, either from necessity, or for the most part; 
 but after this there is nothing else.. But the middle 
 is that which is itself after another thing, and after 
 which there is something else. Hence, it is necessary 
 that those who compose fables properly, should neither 
 '" These words are differently placed in some editions. 
 
CHAP. VII.] POETIC. 421 
 
 begin them casually, nor end them casuaUy, but should 
 employ the above-mentioned forma [of beginning, 
 middle, and end]. Further still, since that which is i. Magni- 
 "beautiful, whether it be an animal, or any thing else *™^^ ™'^ 
 which is composed from certain parts, ought not only "onstitu-^ 
 to have these parts_arranged, but a magnitude also eutsof 
 which js not cSsualT fVat the beautiful consists in l'^™*)'- 
 magnifiide and order, -^ence, neither can any very 
 small animal be beautiful ; for the survey of it is 
 confused, since it is effected in a time nearly in- 
 sensible. Kor yet a very large animal ; for it is not 
 surveyed at once, but its subsistence as one and a 
 whole escapes the view of the spectators ; such as if, 
 for instance, it should be an animal of ten thousand 
 stadia in length. Hence, as in bodies and in animals 5. Magni- 
 it is necessary there should be magnitude; but such ^^^^ ™ 
 as can easily be seen ; thus also in fables, there to plots ; 
 should be length, but this such as can easily be re- 
 membered'. The definition, however, of the length 6. Istly, 
 with reference to contests^ and the senses, does not ^ *? ^^' 
 fall under the consideration of art. For if it were hibitions. 
 requisite to perform a hundred tragedies, [as is said 
 to have been the case more than once',] the perform- 
 ance ought to be .regulated by a clep.sydra. But the 7. 2ndly, 
 definition [of the length of the fable] according to the as to in- 
 nature of the thing, is this, that the fable is always vajue. 
 more beautiful the greater it is, if at the same time 
 it is perspicuous. Simply defining the thing, however, ' 
 we may say, [that a fable has' an appropriate magni- 
 tude,] when the time of its duration is such as to 
 render it probable that there can be a transition from 
 prosperous to adverse, or from adverse to prosperous ' i 
 fortune, according to the necessary or probable order J 
 
 i: 
 
 ^ The unity here spoken of, it must be remembered, is not 
 absolute and simple^ but relative and compound^ unity ; a unity 
 consisting of different parts, the relation of which to each 
 other, and to the whole, is easily perceived at one view. On 
 this depends the perception of beauty inform. — In objects too 
 extended, you may be said to have parts, but no whole : in 
 very minute objects the whole, but no parts. Twining. 
 
 2 i. e. to its representation at the dramatic contests. 
 
 ' These words are condemned by Ritter. 
 
422 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. vm. 
 
 of things as they take place. This is a sufficient 
 definition of magnitude. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 On the Unity of the Fable. 
 
 1. On The fable, however, is one, not as some suppose, if 
 dramatic gne person is the subject of it; for many things 
 ''°' ^' which are infinite in kind happen [to one man], 
 
 from a certain number of which no one event arises. 
 Thus, also, there are many actions of one man, from 
 
 2. Previ- which no one action is produced. Hence all those 
 viousmis- poets appear to have erred who have written the 
 tionTon Heracleid, and Theseid, and such like poems. For 
 the sub- they suppose that because Hercules was one person, 
 ■j^'^*^ it was fit that the fable should be one. Homer, how- 
 duet of ever, as he excelled in other things, , appears likewise 
 Homer, to have Seen this clearly, whether from art, or from 
 
 nature. For in composing the Odyssey, he has not 
 
 related every thing which happened to Ulysses ; such 
 
 as the being wounded in Parnassus ', and pretending 
 
 to be insane" at the muster of the Greeks ; one of 
 
 ( which taking place, it was not necessary or probable 
 
 / that the other should happen ; but he composed the 
 
 ' 4. Appli- Odyssey, as also his Eiad, upon one' action. It is 
 
 cation of requisite, therefore, that as in other imitative arts 
 
 tbeplot. *"^e imitation* is the imitation of one thing, thus, 
 
 ' This incident is, however, related, and at considerable 
 length, in the xixth book of the Odyssey, (t. 563 of Pope's 
 translation,) but digressively, and incidentally; it made no 
 essential part of his general plan. Twining. 
 
 ' A ridiculous story. — " To avoid going to the Trojan war, 
 Ulysses pretended to be mad ; and, to prove his insanity, went 
 to plough with an ox and a horse ; but Palamedes, in order to 
 detect him, laid his infant son, Telemachus, in the way of the 
 plough ; upon which Ulysses immediately stopped, and there- 
 by proved himself to be in his right senses." — (Hyginus, etc.) 
 Twining. 
 
 " I follow Hitter's text. 
 
 ' i. e. one imitative work. Thus one picture represents, or 
 
CHAP. IX.] POETIC. 423 
 
 also, [in tragedy,] the fable, since it is an imitation 
 of action, should be the imitation of one action, and 
 of the whole of this, and that the parts of the trans- 
 actions should be so arranged, that any one of them 
 being transposed, or taken away, the whole would 
 become different and changed. For that which 
 when present or not present produces no sensible 
 [difference], is not a part of the fabled 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 On tJie difference between History and Poetry, and how his- 
 torical matter should be used in Poetry. 
 
 But it is evident from what has been said, that it is i. The 
 not the province of a poet to relate things which poe* "ioss 
 have happened, but such as might have happened, ^"^"^ '''' 
 and such things as are possible according to proba- events, 
 bility, or vrhich would necessarily have happened'. 
 For an historian and a poet do not differ from each 2. forthen 
 other, because the one writes in verse and the other ^^ would 
 in prose ; for the history of Herodotus might be th?hSto- 
 written in verse, and yet it would be no less a history rian. 
 
 should represent, but cme thing ; — a single object, or a single 
 action, etc. So, every poem (the Orlando Furioso as much as 
 the Iliad) is one imitation — one imitative work, and should 
 imitate one action, in Aristotle's sense of unity, like the poems 
 of Homer ; not a number of actions unconnected with each 
 other, or connected merely by their common relation to one 
 person, as in the Theseids, etc., or to one time, as in the poem 
 of Ariosto ; or, by their resemblance merely, as in the Me- 
 tamorphoses of Ovid. Twining. 
 
 * " The painter will not inquire what things may be ad- 
 mitted without much censure. He will not think it enough to 
 show that they may be there, he will show that they must be 
 there ; that their absence would render his picture maimed and 
 defective. — They should make a part of that loliole which would 
 be imperfect without them." — Sir J. Reynolds, Disc, on Paint- 
 ing, p. 106. Twining. 
 
 1 Cf. Sheridan's Critic, vii. 1. "What the plague! a play 
 is not to show occurrences that happen every day, but things 
 just so strange, that though they never did, they might happen." 
 '2 F 
 
424 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. IX. 
 
 3. Hence 
 poetry is 
 universal 
 and plii- 
 losopMc. 
 
 4. Defini- 
 tion of 
 nniversal 
 and par- 
 ticular. 
 
 5. As is 
 evident in 
 comedy. 
 
 6. Ileal 
 names re- 
 tained in 
 tragedy, 
 
 7. but not 
 real 
 names 
 only. 
 
 8. Nor 
 must we 
 entirely 
 confine 
 oui'selves 
 to tradi- 
 tional fa- 
 bles. 
 
 with metre, than without metre. But they differ in 
 this, that the one speaks of things which have hap- 
 pened, and the other of such as might have happened. 
 Hence, poetry is more philosophic, and more deserv- 
 ing of attention, than history. For poetry speaks 
 more of universals, but history of particulars. But 
 MmVer£a7jEansists-ind«ed— i& rehrting-op-perftirming 
 ■certamthings which happen to a man of a certain 
 description, either probably or necessarily, [to which 
 the aim of poetry is directed in giving names*;] but 
 particular consists in narrating what, [for example,] 
 Alcibiades did, or what he suffered. In comedy, 
 therefore, this is now become evident. For [comic 
 poets] having composed a fable through things of a 
 probable nature, they thus give whatever names they 
 please^ to their characters, and do not, like Iambic 
 poets, write poems about particular persons. But in 
 tragedy they cling to real names. The cause, how- 
 ever, of this is that the possible is credible. Things, 
 therefore, which have not yet been done, we do not 
 yet believe to be possible; but it is evident that 
 things which have been done are possible ; for they 
 would not have been done, if they were impossible. 
 Not, indeed, but that in some tragedies there are one 
 or two of known names, and the rest are feigned ; 
 but in others there is no known name ; as, for instance, 
 in the Flower of Agatho. For in this tragedy, the 
 things and the names are alike feigned, and yet it 
 delights no less. Hence, one must not seek to ad- 
 here entirely to traditional fables, which are the sub- 
 jects of tragedy. For it is ridiculous to make this 
 the object of search, because even known subjects are 
 known but to a few, though at the same time they 
 
 ' Ritter well observes that the perspicuity of this otherwise 
 clear passage is destroyed hy this absurd interpolation. 
 
 ' Thus nearly all the names in the tragedies of Terence and 
 Plautus, thus Dromo and Sosia are applied to slaves, Pamphi- 
 lus to a lover, Glycerium or Philumena to a lady, PyrgopoH- 
 nices or Thraso to soldiers. Also the names in Petrcnius and 
 Apuleius, as Pannychis, Meroe, Fotis, etc. So Ben Jonson 
 has personified the virtues and vices in " Cynthia's Revels," 
 and elsewhere. 
 
CHAP. IX.] PCETIC. 425 
 
 delight all men. From these things, therefore, it is 9. Hence 
 evident that a poet ought rather to be the author ttoplot, 
 of fables than of metres, inasmuch as he is a poet t^an the 
 from imitation, and he imitates actions. Hence, metre, is 
 though it should happen that he relates things which *ve^t°''''' 
 have happened, he is no less a poet. For nothing 
 hinders but that some actions which have happened, 
 are such as might both probably^ and possibly have 
 happened, and by [the narration of] such he is a 
 poet. 
 
 But of simple plots and actions, the episodic are 10. Ob- 
 the worst. But I call the plot episodic, in which it is jectionto, 
 neither probable nor necessary that the episodes finition 
 follow each other. Such plots, however, are com- of, episo- 
 dic fables. 
 
 * It may appear to the reader to be a strange observation, 
 that "same true events mat ^le probable." But he will recol- 
 lect what sort of events^ and what sort of probability ^ Aristotle 
 here speaks of: i. e. of extraordinary events^ such as Poetry 
 requires, and of that more strict and perfect probability, that 
 closer connexion and visible dependence of circumstances, 
 which are always required from the poet, though in sitoh 
 events, not often to be found in fact, and real life, and there- 
 fore not expected from'the historian. 
 
 Aristotle alludes to these two lines of Agatho : 
 
 Tax* ^^ ''"'* t'lKol aiiTO t5t' sli/aL Xeyoi, 
 B/)OTOt(ri -TToWa Tuyx^^^^^ ^'^ ti/coTa. 
 Even this, it may be said, is probable. 
 That many things improbable should happen, 
 In human life. — 
 
 See Rhet. ii. 24. 10, and Bayle's Diet. Art. Agathon, 
 note [f], who mentions a similar maxim of St. Bernard's : 
 " Ordinatissimum est, minus interdum ordinate fieri." "II 
 est tout k fait de I'ordre, que de tems en terns il se fasse 
 quelque chose centre I'ordre." 
 
 This general, and, if I may call it so, possible sort of proba- 
 bility, may be termed, the probability of romance ; and these 
 lines of Agatho furnish a good apologetical motto for the novel 
 "WTiter. It might be prefixed, perhaps, without impropriety, 
 even to the best productions of the kind — to a Clarissa, or a 
 Cecilia. Nothing is so commonly complained of in such 
 works, as their improbability ; and often, no doubt, the com- 
 plaint is well-founded : often, however, the criticism means 
 nothing more, than that the events are uncommon, and proves 
 nothing more, than the want of fancy, and an extended view 
 of human life, in the reader. If the events were nof uncommon, 
 where would the book find readers ? Twining. 
 2 T 2 
 
426 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. X. 
 
 posed by bad poets indeed, through their own want 
 of ability^ ; but by good poets, on account of the 
 players^. For, introducing [dramatic] contests, and 
 extending the plot beyond its capabilities, they are 
 frequently compelled to distort the connexion of the 
 11. De- s parts. But, since tragedy is not only an imitation 
 finition of! ^f ^ perfect action, but also of actions which are ter- 
 rible and piteous, and actions principally become 
 {such, [and in a greater degree, when they happen 
 contrary to opinion,'] on account of each other. 
 * * * * For thus they will possess more of the 
 marvellous, than if they happened from chance and 
 fortune'; since, also, of things which are from for- 
 tune, those appear to be most admirable, which seem 
 to happen as it were by design. Thus the statue of 
 Mityus at Argos, killed him who was the cause of 
 the death of Mityus by falling as he was surveying 
 it.'__For such events as these seem not to take place 
 casually. Hence it is necessary that fables of this 
 kind should be more beautiful. 
 
 ble. 
 
 12. Of 
 chance 
 circum- 
 stances. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Fables either simple or compound. 
 
 1. Of fa- Op fables, however, some are simple, and others 
 rilfi^' complex ; for so also are the actions of which fables 
 complex, are the imitations. But I call the action simple, 
 
 " ^ Such is the senseof ^t' a\jToii's=*^ propter ingenii tardifatem," 
 Ritter. 
 
 ^ i. e. that the play may not show off only one actor. Thus 
 a modern dramatist writes a play for Charles Kean, and puts 
 in a few episodes for Buckstone or Keeley. It is clear from 
 this that plays were often written to suit particular performers. 
 
 ' These words are condemned as interpolated. But the 
 apodosis to the whole sentence is wanting, and I have therefore 
 marked the lacuna with Ritter. 
 
 ° A similar story of the death of a cruel beloved being killed 
 by the falling of a statue of Cupitf, is told by Theocritus, Id 
 xxiii. sub tin. 
 
CHAP. XI.] POETIC. 427 
 
 from which taking place, as it has been defined, 
 with continuity and unity, there is a transition with- 
 out either revolution or discovert/; but complex, from 
 which there is a transition, together with discovery, 
 or revolution, or both. It is necessary, however, 3. 
 that these should be effected from the composition 
 itself of the fable, so that from what has formerly 
 happened it may copie to pass that the same things 
 take place either necessarily or probably. For it 
 makes a great difference whether these things are 
 effected on account of these, or after these. 
 
 . __^ CHAP. XL 
 
 Now, teicluiionjs a mutation, as has been stated, of 1. Defini- 
 actionsjatoajioutcaryjajlidition ; and this, as we say, ^°^ °^ ''''- 
 according to the probable, or the necessary. Thus ' 
 
 in the " CEdipus,'" the messenger who comes with an 
 intention of delighting CEdipus and liberating him 
 from his fear respecting his mother, when he makes 
 himself known, produces a contrary effect. Thus, 
 too, in the " Lynceus," he indeed is introduced as one 
 who is to die, and Danaus follows with an intention 
 of killing him ; but it happens from the course of in- 
 cidents, that Lynceus is saved, and Danaus is slain. 
 And discovery is, as the name signifieSj_a__changg 2. of dis- 
 froffl~ignorance^t6 knowledge, or into thejngidship oovejry 
 ofTiatred of those who are destined to prosperous -or I/O ah 
 adverse fortune. The discovery, however, is most /p^^V' 
 beautiful, when at the same time there are, as in the 
 '■ CEdipus,^" revolutions. There are, therefore, other 3. Other 
 discoveries also. For sometimes it happens, as has r^cogni- 
 been before observed, that there are discoveries of 
 things inanimate ', and casual ; or if some one has 
 
 1 Cf. Soph. CEd. Tyr. 1014, sqq. Bind. 
 
 ^ Such is the discovery of Joseph by his brethren, Gen. xlv. 
 — the most beautiful and affecting example that can be given. 
 Twining. 
 
 ^ I do not understand Aristotle to be here speaking of such 
 
ent discO' 
 veries. 
 
 428 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xii. 
 
 performed, or has not performed, a thing, there is a 
 recognition of it ; but the discovery which especially 
 pertains to the fable and the action is that before 
 
 4. Feel- mentioned. For a discovery and revolution of this 
 dte/by ^^''^^ '"''^1 ??cite^ either pity or fear; and—tegedjjs 
 revolu- suppose31;o be an imitation of such actions [asexcite 
 tion and fear ang^^^gityj Again, it will happen that in- 
 
 scovery. ^;gjjjjjy ^j^^ felicity will be in such like discover- 
 
 5. Differ- ies. But since discovery is a discovery of certain 
 persons, some [discoveriesj are ot one person only 
 with reference to another, when it is evident who the 
 
 other person is, but sometimes it is necessary to dis- 
 cover both persons. Thus Iphigenia was recognised 
 by Orestes through the sending an epistle*; but 
 another discovery was requisite to his being known 
 
 6. The by Iphigenia^. [Twopartsof the fable, therefore, viz. 
 third re- revolution and discovery, are conversant with these 
 
 QUlSltS IS 
 
 pathos or things ; but the third part is pathos. And of these, 
 
 disaster, revolution and discovery have been already discussed. 
 
 j i Pathos, however, is an action destructive, or lament- 
 
 /; able; such as death when it is obvious, grievous pains, 
 
 /; wounds, and such like particulars*.] 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 On the Parts of Tragedy. 
 
 1. Tlie [But we have before spoken of the parts of tragedy 
 traeedy which are requisite to constitute its quality. The 
 according parts of tragedy, however, according to quantity, and 
 
 to_4jiaii- 
 ^tity. discoveries of *' inanimate things " (rings, bracelets, etc.) as are 
 
 the means of bringing about the true discovery — that of the 
 persons. For, in what follows, it is implied that these " other 
 sorts of discovery " produce neither terror nor pitif, neither hap- 
 piness nor unhappiness ; which can by no means be said of such 
 discoveries as are instrumental to the personal discovery, and, 
 through that, to the catastrophe of the piece. Of these, he 
 treats afterwards. — Dacier, I think, has mistaken this. Twi- 
 ning. 
 
 * Cf. Eur. Iph. Taur. 759. 92. = Ibid. 811. 26. 
 
 ^ The whole of this paragraph is condemned by Ritter. 
 
CHAP. XII.] POETIC. 429 
 
 into which it is separately divided, are as follow : 
 prologue,^ episode,^ exode,' and chorus, of the parts 
 of which one is the parodos,'^ hut the other is the sta- 
 simon.^ These [five] parts, therefore, are common 
 to all [tragedies]; but the peculiar parts are [the 
 songs] from the scene and the kommoi. And the 2. Pro- 
 prologue, indeed, is the whole part of the tragedy, ^"S^^- 
 prior to the entrance of the chorus. The episode is Episode. 
 the whole part of the tragedy between two complete 
 odes of the chorus. The exode is the whole part of Exode. 
 the tragedy, after which there is no further melody 
 of the chorus. And of the chorus, the parodos, in- Parodos. 
 deed, is the first speech of the whole chorus ; but the 
 stasimon is the melody of the chorus, without ana^ Stasimon 
 passt and trochee: and the commos" is the common Commos. 
 lamentation of the chorus and from the scene. But 3. 
 we have before shown what the parts of tragedy are 
 which must necessarily be used ; but the parts of it 
 according to quantity, and into which it is separately 
 divided, are these'.] 
 
 ^ Prologue — This may be compared to our Jirst act See 
 note 40. T-wining. 
 
 2 Episode — i. e. a part introduced, inserted, etc., as all the 
 dialogue was, originally, between the choral odes. Twining. 
 
 ' Exode — i. e. the going out, or exit; the concluding act, as 
 we should term it. The Greek tragedies ney&r finished with a 
 choral ode. Twining. 
 
 . * Parode — i. e. entry of the chorus upon the stage : and 
 hence the term was applied to what they first sung, upon their 
 entry. Twining. 
 
 * Stasimon — i. e. stable; because, as it is explained, these 
 odes were sung by the choral troop when fixed on the stage, 
 and at rest : whereas the parode is said to have been sung as 
 they came on. Hence, the trochaic and anaptsstic measures, 
 being lively and full of motion, were adapted to the parode, but 
 not to the stasimon. Twping. 
 
 ' From a verb signifying to beat or strike ; alluding to the 
 gestures of violent grief. 
 
 ' Ritter, who has illustrated this whole chapter with great 
 leaniing and taste, allows its utility, but doubts that it is the 
 work of Aristotle. The reader will find his remarks on the 
 different parts of tragedy very valuable. 
 
430 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xiii. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The Essentials for a Tragic Plot. 
 
 1. In the next place we must show, as consequent 
 to what has been said, what those who compose 
 fables ought to aim at, and beware of, and wh,e ii£.e 
 
 2. Tra- the purpose of tragedy, is effected; Since, therefore, 
 
 gedy it is necessary that the composition of the most beau- 
 be'SmiSe' ^^^^ tragedy should not be simple, but complex, and 
 Proper that it should be imitative of fearful and piteous ac- 
 vicissi- tions — (for this is the peculiarity of such imitation) 
 
 .» — in the first place it is evident, that it is not proper 
 ■ that worthy men should be represented as changed 
 j from prosperity to adversity, (for this is .neither a 
 subject of terror nor commiseration, but is impious,) 
 nor should depraved characters [be represented as 
 changed] from adversity to prosperity ; for this is the 
 most foreign from tragedy of all things, since it pos- 
 sesses nothing which is proper ; for it neither appeals 
 to moral sense ', nor is piteous, nor fearful. Nor, 
 again, must a very depraved man be represented as 
 having fallen from prosperity into adversity. For 
 such a composition will indeed possess moral tend- 
 ency, but not pity or fear. For the one is conversant 
 with a character which does not deserve to be un- 
 fortunate ; but the other, with a character similar 
 [to one's own]. [And pity, indeed, is excited for one 
 who does not deserve to be unfortunate ; but fear, for 
 one who resembles oneself^] ; so that the event will 
 neither appear to be commiserable, nor terrible. 
 
 3. The There remains therefore the character between these, 
 "f th*"'^' But a character of this kind is one, who neither ex- 
 hero must eels in virtue and justice, nor is changed through 
 
 be of a vice and depravity, into misfortune, from a state of 
 moderate 
 
 ' Ritter considers to (fnXavSpusTrov as a feeling bordering on 
 eXeos, " id quidem quod prope ad miserationem accedit." It 
 probably is best expressed by our " humanity," considered in 
 both its senses. 
 
 ' Ritter condemns these words as a marginal aimotation. 
 
CHAP, xui.] POETIC. 431 
 
 great renown and prosperity, but has' experienced exccl- 
 this change through some [human] error ; such as ^^"^ T 
 OEdipus and Thyestes, and other illustrious men of ty. 
 this kind. Hence it is necessary that a plot which i. Simple 
 is well constructed, should be rather single^ than ^^^^iP^l^" 
 twofold, (though some say it should be the latter,) twofold, 
 and that the change should not be into prosperity 
 from adversity, but on the contrary into adversity 
 from prosperity, not through depravity, but through 
 soine great error, either of such a character [as we 
 have mentioned], or better rather than worse. But 5. Proof 
 the proof of this is what has taken place. For of old from the 
 the poets adopted any casual fables ; but now the su^jecte of 
 most beautiful tragedies are composed about a few tragedy. 
 famiKes; as for instance, about Alcmseon, OEdipus, 
 Orestes, Meleager, Thyestes, and Telephus'*, and such 
 other persons as happen either to have suffered or 
 done things of a dreadful nature. The tragedy, there- 
 fore, which is most beautiful according to art, is of 
 this construction. Hence they erroneously blame g. An 
 Euripides, who accuse him of having done this in his happy 
 tragedies, and for making many of them terminate in gu^"i°^o 
 misfortune. For this method, as we have said, is tragedy, 
 right ; of which this is the greatest evidence, that in , 
 
 the scenes, and contests of the players, simple fables 
 which terminate unhappily appear to be most tra- 
 gical, if they are properly acted. And Euripides, 
 though he does not manage other things well, yet 
 appears to be the most tragic of poets'. The fable, 7. but 
 however, ranks in the second place, though by some '^^'*. 
 it is said to be the first composition, which has a ' 
 
 twofold construction, such as the Odyssey, and which 
 terminates in a contrary fortune, both to the better 
 
 ' What is here meant by a single fable, will appear presently 
 from the account of its opposite — the double fable. It nJust 
 not be confounded with the simple fable, though in the original 
 both are expressed by the same word. The simple fable is 
 only a fable without revolution, or discovery. Twining. 
 
 * The same remark applies to the French tragic stage. 
 
 = But below, XT. 5. and Eth. iii. I, Euripides is justly charged 
 with the improper introduction of comic characters and lan- 
 guage. The praise applies only to the catastrophe. 
 
 I 
 un- / 
 
432 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xiv. 
 
 and worse characters. It appears, however, to rank 
 
 in the first place, through the imbecility of the spec- 
 
 8. and the tators^. For the poets, in composing their plots, ac- 
 
 happy commodate themselves to the wish of the spectators. 
 
 This pleasure, however, is not [properly] derived 
 
 conclu- 
 sion prC' 
 
 ferred. | from tragedy, hut is rather suited to comedy. For 
 I there, though the greatest enemies be introduced, as 
 ,; Orestes and JEgisthus, yet in the end they depart 
 friends, and no one falls by the hand of the other'. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 Of Terror and PiU 
 
 1. Terror Tereok and pity, therefore, may be produced from 
 
 and pity, ^.jjg sight'. But they may also arise from the com- 
 how pro- " J J 
 
 duced. 6 That weakness wliich cannot bear strong emotions, even 
 
 from fictitious distress. I have known those "wlio could not 
 look at that admirable picture, the Ugolino of Sir Jos. Rey- 
 nolds. — To some minds, every thing that is not cheerful is 
 shocking. — But, might not the preference here attributed to 
 weakness, be attributed to better causes — the gratification of 
 philanthropy, the love of justice, order, etc. ? — the same causes 
 ■which, just before, induced Aristotle himself to condemn, as 
 shocking and disgusting, those fables which involve the virtuous 
 in calamity. Twining. 
 
 Modern audiences partake of this weakness. Thus, the 
 catastrophe of " Measure for Measure," " Cymbeline," or 
 " Winter's Tale," are more satisfactory than those of " Ham- 
 let" or "Pizarro." Knowles's "Hunchback" is a happy 
 specimen of dvayvoipLo-L^, leading to a happy termination, 
 while his "Wife" displeases. Marston's "Heart and the 
 World," weak as the play is, is more agreeable than his "Pa- 
 trician's Daughter." Bi^t, such plays are merely serious 
 comedies. 
 
 ' This is excellently applicable to the plays of Vanhrugh 
 and Gibber. Compare the conclusions of the " Relapse," (Sir 
 Tunbelly excepted,) the " Provoked Wife," etc. As to the 
 diroQvria-KiiL oiiSah uir' oirSfi/oe, it is very descriptive of the duels 
 in a modern or ancient comedy, as in " London Assurance," 
 or in the " Beaux Stratagem," according to Scrub's de- 
 scription. 
 
 ' See a very pleasant paper of Addison's on this subject, 
 " Spectator," No. 42. We know the effect of the skull and 
 
CHAP. XIV.] POETIC. 433 
 
 bination of the incidents, which is preferable, and the 
 province of a better poet. For it is necessary that 
 the fable should be so composed, that he vjrho hears 
 the things which are transacted, may be seized with 
 horror, and feel pity, from the events, without the 
 assistance of the sight ; and in this manner any one 
 who hears the fable of CEdipus is affected. But to 
 effect this through spectacle is more inartificial, and 
 requires great expensed But they who produce 2. The 
 not the terrible, but the monstrous alone, through ""'°" 
 
 / ^. , ii_ • • -ii. strous not 
 
 scenic representation, have nothing in common with tragic. 
 tragedy. For it is not proper to expect every kind 
 :of pleasure from tragedy, but that which is ap- 
 propriate. Since, however, it is necessary that the 3. The 
 poet should procure pleasure from pity and fear P™per 
 through imitation, it is evident that this must be ef- Sj^be'de- 
 jfected by the circumstances. Let us, then, ascertain rived 
 I what kind of events appear to be dreadful or lament- ^'^°?' ^'^: 
 ! able. But it is necessary that actions of this kind 4, "What 
 should either be those of friends towards each other, actions 
 or of enemies, or of neither. If, therefore, an ene- ^eadful 
 my kills an enemy, he does not show any thing orla- 
 which is an object of pity, neither while he does the nj^nt- 
 deed, nor when he is about to do it, except what 
 arises from the deed itself. And this will be the 
 case, when one of those who are neither friends nor 
 enemies do the same. But when these things hap- 
 pen in friendships', as when a brother kiUs a brother, 
 or a son his father, or a mother her son, or a son his 
 mother, or intends to do it, or does any thing else of 
 the like kind — such subjects are to be sought for. 
 One must not, therefore, [completely] alter the re- 
 ceived fables. I mean, for instance, such as the 5. Fur- 
 fable of Clytemnestra being slain by Orestes, and of *'^^'" P"'*'" 
 
 black hangings in the " Fair Penitent," the scaffold in " Venice 
 Preserved," the tomb in " Romeo and Juliet," etc. Twining. 
 But Ritter understands oi//-ts to mean the countenance of the 
 actor. 
 
 2 " Xopriyiav generatim pro pretioso ef operoso apparatu et 
 apte dici posse et eo intellectu h. 1. accipiendam esse manifes- 
 tum est." Ritter. 
 
 ' As in the " Fatal Curiosity " of Lillo. Twining. 
 
434 ARISTOTLE'S [chap, xiv 
 
 cepts re- Eriphyle by Alcmaaon. But it is necessary that the 
 specting pQgj. should invent the plot, and use in a becoming 
 manner those fables which are handed down. What, 
 however, we mean by [using fables] in a becoming 
 6. Exam- manner, let us explain more clearly. Now, the action 
 pies. may take place in such a way as the ancients have 
 
 represented it, viz. knowingly with intent ; as Euri- 
 pides represents Medea killing her children. Men 
 may also do an action, who are ignorant of, and 
 afterwards discover their connexion [with, the in- 
 jured party,] as in the "QEdipus" of Sophocles. 
 This, therefore, is extraneous to the drama*, but is 
 in the tragedy itself ; as in the " Alcmaeon " of As- 
 tydamas, or Telegonus in the " Ulysses Wounded *." 
 7, Further still, besides these there is a third mode, 
 when some one is about to perpetrate, through ig- 
 norance, an atrocious deed, but makes the discovery 
 before he does it^. And besides these there is no 
 other mode. . Forjt js^ necessa£j^_to act, or not ; and 
 that knowing, or not knowing. But of these, to in- 
 tend to perpetrate the deed knowingly, and not to 
 perpetrate it, is the worst ; for it is wicked and not 
 tragical ; because it is void of pathos. [Hence, no 
 poet introduces a character of this kind except 
 rarely ; as in the " Antigone," in which Haemon 
 [endeavours to kill his father] Creon, [but does not 
 
 * The murder of Laius by CEdipus, his son, is supposed to 
 have happened a considerable time before the beginning of the 
 action. Twining. 
 
 ' Of these two dramas nothing more is known than the little 
 that Aristotle here tells us. In the first, the poet adhered so 
 far to history, as to make Alcmseon kill his mother Eriphyle, 
 but with the improvement, (according to Aristotle's idea,) of 
 making him do it ignorantly. The story of Telegomis is, that 
 he was a son of Ulysses by Circe; was sent by her in quest of 
 his father, whom he wounded, without knowing him, in a 
 skirmish relative to some sheep, that he attempted to carry off 
 from the island of Ithaca. It is somewhat singular, that the 
 wound is said to have been given with a kind of Otaheite spear, 
 headed with a sharp fish-bone. See Pope's Odyssey, xi. 167, 
 and the note. Twining. 
 
 ^ Thus in Talfourd's " Ion," Ion discovers Adrastus to be 
 his father, just as he is on the point of murdering him. 
 
CHAP. XV.] POETIC. 435 
 
 effect his purpose.] ' ] For the action here ranks in 
 the second place. But it is better to perpetrate the 8. 
 deed ignorantly, and having perpetrated to discover ; 
 for then it is not attended veith wickedness, and the 
 discovery excites horror. The last mode, however, 9. 
 is the best ; I mean, as in the " Cresphontes," in 
 which Merope is about to kill her son, but does not, 
 in consequence of discovering that he was her son. 
 Thus, too, in the " Iphigenia in Tauris," in which 
 the sister is going to kill the brother, [but recog- 
 nises him ;] and in the " Helle," the son is about to 
 betray his mother, but is prevented by recognising 
 her. Hence, as has been formerly observed, trage- lO. 
 dies are not conversant with many families ; for 
 poets were enabled to discover incident of this kind 
 in fables, not from art, but from fortune^. They 11. 
 were compelled, therefore, to direct their attention 
 to those families in which calamities of this kind 
 happened. 
 
 And thus we have spoken sufficiently concerning 
 the combination of the incidents, and have shown 
 what kind of fables ought to be employed. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 With respect to manners, however, there are four . j, 
 things to which one ought to direct attention : one, sites of 
 indeed, and the first, that they be good. But the manners, 
 tragedy wiR indeed possess manners, if, as was said, express''^ 
 the words or the action render any deliberate inten- Trpoaipe- 
 tion apparent ; containing good manners ', if the <^"i 
 deliberate intention is good. But manners are to be 
 found in each genus ; for both a woman and a slave 
 may be good; though perhaps of these, the one is 
 
 ' Bitter condemns this passage. See also Donaldson, Intro- 
 duction to the Antigone, p. xl. 
 
 ^ i. e. to history or tradition. 
 
 * The interpolation (pavXov fiiv iav <^a{i\r] j) is rightly thrown 
 out by Ritter. 
 
436 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. 
 
 2. that 
 they be 
 adapted 
 to the 
 persons, 
 
 3. similar. 
 
 4. and 
 consist- 
 ent. 
 
 5. De- 
 praved 
 manners 
 unneces- 
 sary. 
 
 less good 2, and the other is wholly bad '. In the 
 second place, the manners must be adapted to the per- 
 sons. For there are manners which are character- 
 ized by fortitude, but it is not suited to a woman to 
 be either brave or terrible. In the third place, thp 
 manners must be similar. For this, as was before 
 observed, differs from making the manners to be good 
 and adapted*. In the fourth place, they must be uni- 
 form ; for if he is anomalous, who exhibits the imita- 
 tion, and expresses such like manners, at the same 
 time it is necessary that he should be uniformly un- 
 equal. The example, however, of depraved manners 
 is indeed not necessary ; such, for instance, as that of 
 Menelaus in the " Orestes," but an example of un- 
 becoming and unappropriate manners is, the lamenta- 
 tion of Ulysses in the tragedy of " Scylla,'" and the 
 speech of Menalippe ; and the example of anomalous 
 manners in the Iphigenia in Aulis. For Iphigenia 
 
 ^ This is very Euripidean gallantry. Compare Aristoph. 
 546, sqq. 
 
 ^ This is ohserved, to show the consistence of this first pre- 
 cept "with the next. The manners must be dra'wn as good as 
 may he, consistently with the observance of propriety^ with 
 respect to the general character of different sexes, ages, condi- 
 tions, etc. It might have been objected — " You say the charac- 
 ter must be good. But suppose the poet has to represent, for 
 instance, a slave ? — the character of slaves in general is noto- 
 riously bad." — The ajiswer is, — any thing may be good in its 
 kind. Twining. 
 
 * This is very trivial, compared with Horace's description 
 of the manners suited to different characters. Of. Ars Poet, 
 114, sqq. 
 
 * Of the Scylla nothing is known. — Some fragments remain 
 of " Menalippe the Wise," (for this was the title,) a tragedy of 
 Euripides, the subject of which is a curiosity. Menalippe was 
 delivered of two children, the fruits of a stolen amour with 
 Neptune, To conceal her shame, she hid them in her father's 
 cow-house ; where he found them, and being less of a philoso- 
 pher than his daughter, took them for a monstrous production 
 of some of his cows, and ordered them to be burned. His 
 daughter, in order to save tliem, without exposing herself, en- 
 ters into a long physical argument, upon the principles of Anax- 
 agoras, to cure her father of his unpliilosophical prejudices 
 about monsters and portentous births, and to convince him 
 that these infants might be the natural cliildren of his cows. 
 Twining. 
 
CHAP. XV.] POETIC. 437 
 
 supplicating does not at all resemble the Iphigenia in 
 ] the latter part of the tragedy. It is requisite, how- 6- Neces- 
 ' ever, in the manners as well as in the combination prJba^ji;. 
 I of the incidents, always to investigate, either the ne- ty of ac- 
 cessary or the probable ; so that such a person should ^°^- 
 say or do such things, either necessarily or probably ; 
 ' and that it be necessary or probable, that this thing 
 should be done after that. It is evident, therefore, 7. Solu- 
 that the solutions of fables ought to happen from the *"'\t t 
 fable itself, and not as in the "Medea,^" from the be from 
 machinery, and in the tragedy called the "Iliad," the fable, 
 from the particulars respecting the sailing away [from ^*. 
 Troy']. But we must employ machinery in things chinery. 
 which are external to the drama, which either hap- \ 
 pened before, and which it is not possible for men to I 
 know, or which happened afterwards, and require | 
 to be previously foretold and announced. For we 
 ascribe to the gods the power of seeing all things, but / 
 we do not admit the introduction of any thing absurd / ^ 
 in the incidents ^, but if it is introduced it must be 
 external to the tragedy; as in the " CEdipus" of 
 Sophocles. Since, however, tragedy is an imitation 8. Com- 
 of better things, it is necessary that we should im- P^™™ 
 itate good painters. For these, in giving an ap- painting. 
 propriate form to the image, depict the simiUtude, 
 but increase the beauty ^. Thus, also, it is requisite 
 that the poet, in imitating the wrathful and the indo- 
 lent, and those who are similarly affected in their 
 manners, should form an example of equity, or as- 
 perity; such as Agatho and Homer have repre- 
 sented Achilles. These things, indeed, it is neces- 9. 
 sary to observe ; and besides these, such perceptions 
 of the senses as are attendant upon poetry, besides 
 
 " Of Euripides. Medea is carried off, at the end of the tra- 
 gedy, in a chariot drawn by flying dragons. Twining. 
 
 ' Pope's Iliad, ii. 189, etc. Twining. 
 
 » By incidents of the fable, Aristotle here plainly means all 
 those actions or events which are essential parts of the subject ot 
 story, whether previous to the action, and necessary to be kiown, 
 or included in it, and actually represented in the drama. 
 
 ^ This seems intended to explain his third precept, of re- 
 semblance in the manners ; to reconcile it with his first, and to 
 show what sort of likeness the nature of tragic imitation re- 
 quires. Twining. 
 
438 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xvi. 
 
 the necessary ones.'" For in these, errors are fre- 
 quently committed. But concerning these things, 
 enough has been said in the treatises already pub- 
 lished. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 use. 
 
 1. On the ['What discovery, however, is, has been before 
 different gtated. But with respect to the species of recognition, 
 tion?"' the first indeed is the most inartificial, and that which 
 most poets use through being at a loss, and is efieeted 
 2. through signs. But of these, some are natural, such 
 as the " lance with which the earth-born ^ race are 
 marked," or the stars [on the bodies of the sons] in 
 the "Thyestes" of Carcinus. Others are adventi- 
 tious, and of these some are in the body, as scars ; 
 but others are external, such as necklaces ; and such 
 as [the discovery] through a small boat, in the 
 3. Their " Tyro'." These signs also may be used in a better 
 or worse manner. Thus Ulysses,* through his scar, 
 is in one way known by his nurse, and in another by 
 the swineherds. For the discoveries which are for 
 the sake of credibility, are more inartificial, and all 
 
 ^■^ i. e. to the sight, and the hearing ; in other words, to 
 actual representation. 
 
 1 The reader, who recollects the conclusion of Sect. 14, 
 where the author took a formal leave of the "fable and its 
 requisites," and proceeded to the second essential pai't of 
 tragedy, the manners, will hardly be of Dacier's opinien, who 
 contends that this section is rightly placed. His reasons are 
 perfectly ainsatisfactory. Twining. I have enclosed it in 
 brackets, with Ritter. ~ "" 
 
 " The descendants of the original Thebans, who, according 
 to the fabulous history, sprung from the earth when Cadmus 
 sowed the dragon's teeth, etc. — This noble race are said to have 
 been distinguished by the natural mark of a lance upon their 
 bodies. 
 
 ^ Sophocles wrote two tragedies of this name, neither of 
 them preserved. — The story of Tyro leads us to suppose, that 
 Aristotle means the little boat, trough, or, as some render it, 
 cradle, in which Tyro had exposed her children, on, or near, the 
 river ; the particular manner of the discovery it would be in 
 vain to guess. 
 
 * See Pope's Odyssey, xix. v. 451, etc., and tlie note there, 
 on V. 461, and xxi. 22G. 
 
CHAP. XVI.] POETIC. 439 
 
 of them are of this kind ; but those which are from 
 revolution, as in the " Washing of Ulysses*," are 
 better. And those recognitions rank in the second 4. Iment- 
 place, which are invented by the poet, on which ac- ed recog- 
 count they are inartificial. Thus Orestes in the 
 " Iphigenia" discovers that he is Orestes^. For she 
 indeed recognises her brother through a letter, but 
 Orestes himself speaks what the poet designs, but not 
 what the fable requires ; on which account it is near 
 to the above-mentioned error ; since he might have 
 introduced some [of the real things as signs]. Thus, 
 too, in the " Tereus " of Sophocles, the " voice of the 
 shuttle" [produced a recognition']. But the third 5. By me- 
 mode of discovery is through memory, from the '''°'^'- 
 sensible perception of something by sight, as in the 
 " Cyprii " of Dicaeogenes ; for on seeing the picture a 
 certain person weeps. And in the " Tale of Alcinous ;" 
 for Ulysses, on hearing the lyrist, and recollecting 
 the story, weeps ; whence also [all these] were recog- 
 nised. The fourth mode of discovery is derived from 6. By 
 syllogism^, as in the "Choephorae" — a person like 
 
 reason- 
 ing. 
 
 ' The ancients distinguished the different parts of Homer's 
 poems by different titles accommodated to the different subjects, 
 or episodes ; and, in referring to him, they made use of these, 
 not of the division into books. Thus, the part of the xixth 
 book of the Odyssey above referred to, was called The Wash- 
 ing. The Tale of Alcinous "was another title, "which "will 
 presently be mentioned. T"wining. 
 
 ^ I follo"w Eitter, who supplies " to Iphigenia." The older 
 editors interpolated the passage. See Eltter's note on the fol- 
 lo"wing passage. The whole disputation is " arguta et obscura," 
 as the learned critic observes. 
 
 ' ' Taylor's note is pre-eminently absurd. Tyrwhitt elegantly 
 explains the passage thus : kspk/^os 0mi/?) is a quotation from 
 the play, and denotes the web itself, by means of which Philo- 
 mela explained to her sister Procne the injuries she had suffered 
 from Tereus, since, her tongue being cut out, she could not 
 speak. Cf Ovid, Met. VI. 424 ; Hygin. Fab. 45, quoted by 
 Kitter, whose note deserves the student's attention. As the 
 web is said to speak, which describes, so the shield of Capaneus 
 ■)(pvao7? 4)tjovEtypdijLijiaaLv, JEsch. Sept. C. Th, 434. 
 
 * Occasioned by reasoning ; — i. e. by reasoning, (or rather, 
 
 inference, or conclusion,') in the person discovered. See the 
 
 note. — It should be remembered, that Aristotle is not, in this 
 
 chapter, inventing discoveries, nor enumerating all the kinds 
 
 2 G 
 
440 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. XVI. 
 
 7. By the 
 miscon- 
 ception of 
 the audi- 
 ence. 
 
 8. The 
 best is 
 from the 
 circum- 
 stances 
 them- 
 selyesv 
 
 me is arrived — there is no person like me but 
 Orestes, — Orestes, therefore, is arrived. Thus too 
 in the "Iphigenia"' of Polyides the sophist. For it 
 was probable that Orestes would syllogistically con- 
 clude, that because his sister had been immolated, 
 it would likewise happen to him to be sacrificed. 
 Thus also in the " Tydeus""' of Theodectes, a cer- 
 tain person comes to discover his son, and himself 
 perishes". Another example also is in the "Phinids." 
 For the women, on seeing the place, inferred what' 
 their fate -would be, viz. that they must needs perish 
 in this place ; for they were exposed in it from their 
 infancy. There is also a certain compound [dis- 
 covery], which is produced from the false inference 
 of the spectator, as in the " Ulysses the False Messen- 
 ger." For he says, he should know the bow, which 
 he had not seen ; but the [audience], as if he must 
 be known through this, on this account infer falsely. 
 The best recognition, however, of all, is that which 
 arises from the things themselves, astonishment being 
 excited through probable circumstances ; as in the 
 "CEdipus"of Sophocles and the "Iphigenia;" (for 
 it is pi'obable that she would be willing to send letters ;) 
 since such things alone are without fictitious signs and 
 necklaces'-- But the recognitions which rank in the 
 second place, are those which are derived from syl- 
 logism.] 
 
 possible or practicable ; but only classing and examining such 
 as he found in use, or could recollect, in the tragedies and epic 
 poems of his time. Twining. 
 
 ' The subject appears to have been the same as that of the 
 Iphigenia in Tauris of Euripides. We are to , suppose, that 
 Oi'esfes was discovered to his sister by this natural exclama- 
 tion, at the moment when he was led to the altar of Diana to 
 be sacrificed. Twining. 
 
 '° Of this and the preceding tragedy, we know nothing but 
 what we learn here : i. e. that in the one, a father, and in the 
 other, the daughters of Phineus, were discovered, and, proba- 
 bly, saved, by those exclamations. Twining. 
 
 " See Ritter. Nothing of this play is known. 
 
 '* All this passage is hopelessly corrupt. 
 
CHAP. XVII,] POETIC. 441 
 
 K- 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 It is necessary, however, that the poet should form I. Rules 
 the plots, and elaborate his diction, in such a manner fof T^- 
 that he may as much as possible place the thing before jdeas.^ 
 his own eyes'. For thus, the poet perceiving most 
 acutely, as if present with the transactions themselves, 
 will discover what is becoming, and whatever is re- 
 pugnant will be least concealed from his view. An 
 evidence of this is the fault with which Carcinus is 
 reproached. For Amphiaraus had left the temple, 
 which was concealed from the spectator, who did not 
 perceive it, and the piece was driven^ from the stage 
 in consequence of the indignation of the spectators. 
 For the poet as much as possible should co-operate 1 
 with the gestures [of the actor] ; since those are 
 naturally most adapted to persuade who are them- | 
 selves under the influence of passion. Hence, also, 2. The 
 he agitates others who is himself agitated', and he po^t 
 excites others to anger who is himself most truly ^^"j ^^^^ 
 enraged. Hence, poetry is the province either of he writes, 
 one who is naturally clever, or of one who is insane*. 
 
 ' i. e. place himself in the position of a spectator. Eitter 
 observes that trou trwlaTavTa must be supplied. 
 
 2 iKiriiTTtLv is properly used of the condemnation of a piece. 
 See Hemst. on Lucian, Nigrin. § 8. In Demosth. de Coron. 
 p. 315, ed. Heisk. it is applied to the actor. Cf. Bud. Com. 
 L. Gr. p. 536. There is a pun upon the double meaning of 
 the verb. Amphiaraus went (i^ETTEo-E) away, and the piece 
 was condemned (e^E-n-Eo-E) in consequence. 
 
 ^ But Twining, in a long and learned note, expresses his 
 opinion that xeim"'"'' may be used in its proper neuter sense, 
 and that the meaning may be as follows : " The poet should 
 work himself, as far as may be, into the passion he is to repre- 
 sent, by even assuming the countenance and the gestures 
 which are its natural expressions. For they, of course, have 
 most probability and truth in their imitation, who actually feel, 
 in some degree, the passion : and no one expresses agitation of 
 mind (xEiMCEi^Ei) so naturally, {aXridtv^'TaTa,') as he who is 
 really agitated, (x^tintiSo/ttEi/os,) or expresses anger (xa^ETraiyti) 
 so naturally, as he who is really angry (opyiJoVEi/os)." 
 
 * " In an enthusiasm allied to madness," is Twining's 
 translation, which is all that Aristotle means to say, under- 
 2 G 2 
 
442 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. XVII. 
 
 3. and 
 should 
 form a 
 general 
 sketch of 
 his plot. 
 
 4. The 
 episodes 
 must be 
 suitable 
 
 5. and 
 short. 
 
 For of these characters, the one is easily fashioned, 
 but the other is prone to ecstasy. It is likewise 
 necessary that the poet should in a general way lay 
 down the fables composed by others, and those which 
 he composes himself, and afterwards introduce epi- 
 sodes and lengthen out [the play]. But I say that 
 he should give a general sketch after this manner. 
 Thus, for instance, in the " Iphigenia^," a certain 
 virgin on the point of being sacrificed, and vanishing 
 from the view of those who were to sacrifice her, and 
 being brought to another country in which it was a 
 law to sacrifice strangers to a certain goddess, she 
 is appointed the priestess of these rites. Some time 
 after, it happened that the brother of the priestess 
 came to this place ; [but on what account ? Because 
 some god had ordered him, for a certain reason which 
 does not pertain to the general view of the tragedy,] 
 to come thither, [but why he did so is foreign to the 
 fable^]. The brother, therefore, coming, and being 
 made captive, discovered [his , sister], when he is 
 going to be sacrificed ; whether, as Euripides says, [by 
 an epistle,] or, as Polyides feigns, speaking according 
 to probability, because he said, it was not only requi- 
 site that the sister, but that he also should be sacri- 
 ficed : — and hence safety arises. After these things, 
 the poet having given names to the persons, should 
 insert the episodes ; and he must be careful that the 
 episo'des be appropriate ; as that of the insanity 
 through which Orestes was taken captive, and his 
 being saved through expiation. In dramas, therefore, 
 the episodes are short, but by these the epopee is 
 lengthened. For the fable of the Odyssey is short, viz. 
 a certain man wandering for many years, and perse- 
 cuted by Neptune, and left alone. And besides this, 
 his domestic affairs being so circumstanced, that his 
 
 standing " eos, qui animo commotiores sunt," as Kitter ren- 
 ders it. On the connexion between poetic enthusiasm and 
 madness, cf. Plato, Ion. p. 145. C. etc. Phaedr. p. 344. B. Lsm. 
 with Clemens Alex. Strom, vi. p. 827. Theodoret. Seprnr. II. p. 
 25. Cicer. de Div. I. 37. 
 
 5 Eur. Iph. Taur. 
 
 ° The passf^ge is interpolated. See Kitter. 
 
CHAP, xviii.] POETIC. 443 
 
 wealth is consumed by suitors, and stratagems are 
 plotted against his son. But driven by a tempest, he 
 returns, and making himself known to certain per- 
 sons, he attacks the suitors, and is himself saved, but 
 destroys his enemies. This, therefore, is the peculi- 
 arity of the fable, but the rest is episode. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 [In every tragedy, however, there is a complication 1. Com- 
 and development '. And external circumstances in- ^]j??™ 
 deed, and some of those that are internal, frequently yelop- 
 form the complication ; but the rest the development, meut. 
 I call, however, the complication, the whole of that 
 which extends from the beginning to the last part, 
 from which there is a transition to good fortune ; 
 but I call the development that part which extends 
 from the beginning of the transition to the end. 
 Thus in the Lynceus of Theodectes, the past trans- 
 actions, and the capture of the son, are the compli- 
 cation ; but the part which extends from the charge 
 of murder to the end, is the development. But of 2. Four 
 tragedy there are four species ; for so many parts of sp<=o'^s of 
 it have also' been enumerated. And one species is ** ^ ' 
 the complicated, of which the whole is revolution 
 and discovery; another, the pathetic, such as the 
 tragedies of Ajax and Ixion ; another, the moraP, 
 such as the Phthiotides and the Peleus; but the 
 
 ' Literally, the tying and untying. With the French, Nceud 
 and Denouement are convenient and established terms. I 
 hope I shall be pardoned for avoiding our awkward expres- 
 sions of the intrigue and unravelling of a plot, etc. I could 
 find no terms less exceptionable than those I have used. 
 Twining. 
 
 * i. e. in which the delineation of manners or character is 
 predominant. Our language, I think, wants a word to express 
 this sense of the Greek ^Sikoi/, and the Latin, moratum. Man- 
 nered has, I believe, sometimes been used in this sense ; but so 
 seldom, as to sound awkwardly. We know nothing of the sub- 
 jects here given as examples. Twining. 
 
444 ARISTOTLE'S [chat. xvm. 
 
 fourth is another such as the "Phorcides^" and the 
 "Prometheus," and the tragedies which represent 
 3. all what passes in Hades. It is especially necessary, 
 which the therefore, that the poet should endeavour to have all 
 Should these species ; or at least that he should have the 
 under- greatest and most of them, especially since men of 
 stand. jj^g present age calumniate the poets. For as there 
 have been good poets in each part of tragedy, they 
 now expect one poet to excel in all the parts. But 
 it is right to call tragedy different and the same, 
 though not perhaps with any reference to the fable ; 
 but this [may be the case with those] of which there 
 is the same plot and solution. But many poets com- 
 plicate well, and develope badly*. But both these 
 should always be applauded^. But it is necessary to 
 recollect, as has been often observed, that we must 
 i. On epic (iQt jnake tragedy an epic system. Now, I call that 
 tragedy' an epic system, which consists of many 
 fables ; as if some one should compose a tragedy 
 from the whole fable of the Iliad. For in the Iliad, 
 on account of its length, the parts receive an appro- 
 priate magnitude. But in dramas, the effect pro- 
 5. lUus- duced would be very contrary to expectation. The 
 trations. truth of this is indicated by such as have repre- 
 sented [in one tragedy] the whole destruction of 
 Troy, and not some part of it, as the "Niobe" or 
 "Medea" of Euripides, and who have not acted 
 like ^schylus ; for these have either been condemned, 
 
 ' JEschyhis wrote a tragedy so named. It is diflficult to 
 imagine what he could make of these three curious personages, 
 who were born old women, lived under ground, and had hut 
 one eye among them, which they used by turns ; carrying it, I 
 suppose, in a case, like a pair of spectacles. Such is the tale ! 
 Twining. 
 
 * No fault so common : see note 59. It was with the Greek 
 tragedians, probably, as with Shakspeare, — " In many of his 
 plays the latter part is evidently neglected. When he fomid 
 himself near the end of his work, and in view of his reward, he 
 shortened the labour, to snatch the profit. He therefore re- 
 mits his efforts where he should most vigorously exert them, 
 and his catastrophe is improbably produced, or imperfectly 
 represented." Johnson's Pref. to Shakspeare. Twining. 
 
 * This passage is contradictory and, unintelligible. See 
 Ritter, who condemns the whole as spurious. 
 
CHAP. XVIII.] POETIC. 445 
 
 or contend without success ; since Agatho also failed 
 in this alone. But in revolutions, and in simple ac- 
 tions, those poets admirably effect their aim. For 
 this is tragical, and has a moral tendency. This, 6. 
 however, takes place when a wise but a depraved 
 man, such as Sisyphus, is deceived ; and a brave but 
 unjust man is vanquished. But this is probable, as 
 Agatho says. For it is probable that many things 
 may take place contrary to -probability. It is neces- 7. The 
 sary likewise to conceive the chorus to be one of the ''f fJ'^^ 
 players^ and a part of the whole, and that it co-oper- chorus, 
 ates with the players, not as in Euripides', but as in 
 Sophocles. But with other tragedians, the choral 
 songs do not more belong to that fable, than to any 
 other tragedy ; on which account the chorus sing 
 detached pieces, inserted at pleasure*, of which Aga- 
 tho was the inventor. What difference, however, 
 
 ^ Actoris partes chorus, officiumqite virile 
 
 Defendat : neu quid medios intercinat actus^ 
 Quod non proposito conducat et hcereat apte. 
 
 Hor. A. P. 193. 
 
 ^ This expression does not, I think, necessarily imply any 
 stronger censure of Euripides, than that the choral odes of his 
 tragedies were, in general, more loosely connected with the 
 subject, than those of Sophocles; which, on examination, 
 would, I believe, be found' true. For that this is the fault here 
 meant, not the improper " choice of the persons who compose 
 the chorus," as the ingenious translator of Euripides under- 
 stands, is, I think, plain from what immediately follows ; the 
 connexion being this : — " Sophocles is, in this respect, Tnost 
 perfect ; Euiipides less so ; as to the others, their choral songs 
 are totally foreign to the subject of their tragedies." See Pot- 
 ter's Euripides — Postscript to the Trojan Dames. Warton's 
 Essay on the Genius, etc., of Pope, vol. i. p. 71. 
 
 ' It is curious to trace the gradual extinction of the chorus. 
 At first, it was all; then, relieved by the intermixture of dia- 
 logue, but still principal ; then, subordinate to the dialogue ; 
 then, digressive, and ill connected with the piece ; then, borrow- 
 ed from other pieces at pleasure — and so on, to the fiddles and 
 the act-tunes, at which Dacier is so angry. (See his note, p. 
 33d.) The performers in the orchestra of a modern theatre 
 are little, I believe, aware, that they occupy the place, and may 
 consider themselves as the lineal descendants, of the ancient 
 chorus. Orchestra (opxv'rpa) was the name of that part of the 
 ancient theatre which was appropriated to the chorus. [Jul. 
 Pollux, IV. p. 423.] " 
 
446 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xix. 
 
 does it make, to sing inserted pieces, or to adapt 
 the diction of one drama to another, or the whole 
 episode ? 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 1. Diction Of the Other parts of tragedy enough has now been 
 andsenti- said. But it remains that we should speak concern- 
 "'^" ■ ing the diction and the sentiments. The particulars, 
 
 therefore, respecting the sentiments, are unfolded in 
 the treatise on Rhetoric, to which it more properly 
 belongs. But those things pertain to the sentiments, 
 which it is requisite to procure by a reasoning pro- 
 
 2. Their cess. And the parts of these are, to demonstrate, to 
 parts. refute, and to excite the passions ; such as pity, or 
 
 fear, or anger, and such like ; and besides these, to 
 
 3. amplify and extenuate. It is evident, however, that 
 
 in things, also, it is requisite to derive what is useful 
 
 from the same forms, when it is necessary to procure 
 
 objects of pity, or things that are dreadful, or great, 
 
 or probable. Except that there is this difference, 
 
 that things in tragedy ought to be rendered apparent 
 
 without teaching, but in an oration they are to be 
 
 shown by the speaker, and in consequence of the 
 
 speech. For what employment would there be for 
 
 the orator, if the things should appear [of themselves] 
 
 4. How pleasing, and not through the speech ? But of things 
 
 far the pertaining to diction, there is one species of theory 
 
 should be respecting the forms of speech ', which it is the pro- 
 
 ' What are we to understand by these (rxnfia-ra Xe£eus ? — 
 The learned reader will immediately see, that, as Victorius has 
 observed, they are not to be confounded with those axn^ara 
 Xlgeojs, of which we hear so much from Cicero, Quintilian, 
 Dion. Hal. etc., — those " figurse verborum," which are opposed 
 to the crx^/iaTa dicLifoia^, the " figuras mentis, sententiantm" 
 etc. Indeed, no such division of axvtia-ra is, I believe, to be 
 found in Aristotle. It seems to have been the invention of the 
 later rhetoricians ; and how little they were agreed, as to the 
 number and the species of these rrxvfiaTa, the propriety of the 
 division itself, and even the precise sense of the word trxvH-^t 
 may be seen in Quintilian ix. 1 — The axnfia'ra Xegsius of Aris- 
 
CHAP. XX.] POETIC. 447 
 
 vince of the actor to know, and of him who is a acquaiut- 
 
 master artist in this profession. Thus, for instance, f^ ^j'*» 
 I-. . ... 1 1 1 T 11 1 . trie oiner- 
 
 [it IS requisite he should know,J what a mandate is, cnt appli- 
 what a prayer, narration, threats, interrogation and an- cations of 
 swer are, and whatever else there may be of this kind. "^''°°- 
 For from the knowledge or ignorance of these, the 5. 
 poetic art incurs no blame of any moment. For who 
 would think that Homer errs in what he is reproved 
 for by Protagoras ? viz. that while he fancies he 
 prays, he commands, when he says, " The wrath, 
 goddess, sing." For, says he, to order a thing to be 
 done, or not to be done, is a mandate. Hence, this 
 must be omitted as a theorem pertaining to another 
 art, and not to poetry. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 The parts of Diction. 
 
 ['Of all diction, however, the following are the parts; \. The 
 viz. the letter, the syllable, the conjunction, the noun, P?rts of 
 the verb, the article, the case, and the sentence. The "'""'■ 
 
 totle in this place, are plainly such as would have been de- 
 nominated by later -writers, ffx'i/uaToi Siavola^ — figures of the 
 thought or sense. Indeed "we find them actually enumerated 
 among the figures of that class. See Dionys. Halicarn. de 
 Struct, etc. Sect. 8. — So Quintilian ; " Figuras quoque mentis, 
 quas axvfiaTOL Stavola^ dicuntur, res eadem recipit omnes, in 
 quas nonnulU diviserunt species dictorum, (i. e. of Jokes, bons 
 mots) . Nam et interrogamus, et dubitamus, et afBrmamus, et 
 minamur, et optamus." 
 
 1 see, therefore, not the least reason -why the expression 
 axvfia Xt^Eio? should not be rendered here exactly as in the 
 other passages above referred to, "figura orationis "—form, or 
 configuration, of speech. For Xt'fis, it must be observed, is here 
 used, not in the particular sense of diction, or style and man- 
 ner of expression, (as it is used Rhet. iii. 8,) but in the 
 general sense of \o'yos, speech, as we find it used in the begin- 
 ning of the next chapter. 
 
 ' This chapter is an evident interpolation, and the student 
 will gain but little benefit from its perusal, as the matter of it 
 is incorrect and ill arranged. See Kitter. 
 
448 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. XX. 
 
 3. Their 
 divisions, 
 
 2. Letters, letter, therefore, indeed, is an indivisible sound^; yet 
 not every sach sound, but that from which an intelli- 
 gible sound is adapted to be produced. For there 
 are indivisible vocal sounds of brutes, no one of which 
 I call a letter 3. But the parts of this indivisible 
 sound are, vowel, semivowel, and mute. And a 
 vowel, indeed, is that which has an audible sound, 
 without percussion''; such as a and o. But a semi- 
 vowel is that which has an audible sound, with per: 
 cussion ; as s and r. And a mute is that which, 
 even with the concurrence of the tongue, has of itself, 
 indeed, no sound, but becomes audible in conjunction 
 with things which have a certain sound ; as g and 
 
 4. and dif- d. But these differ by the configurations of the 
 mouth, in the parts [of the mouth*] by density and 
 tenuity of aspiration, by length and shortness ; and 
 further still, they differ by acuteness and gravity, 
 and by the medium between both these ; the theory 
 respecting each of which pertains to the metrical 
 art. But a syllable is a sound without signification, 
 composed from a mute, and an element which has 
 sound [i. e. from a vowel, or semivowel]. For g r 
 without a is a syllable*, and also with a, as g r a. 
 
 ^ "Vocal sound," is Taylor's translation of ti>tavn. 
 
 ' " Element of diction." Taylor. 
 
 ' As Hermann has ventured to call •rrpoo-jSoX^ allisus, I 
 trust I shall be excused for adopting Twining's quaint, but 
 clear translation. He observes : " Literally, percussion, i. e. 
 of the tongue against the palate, or teeth, tlie lips against the 
 teeth, or against each other, and all the other modes of conso- 
 nant articulation. See Hermes, iii. 2. p. 322, where they are 
 called ' contacts.' Dacier makes sad confusion here, both in 
 his version and his notes, by confounding the names of the 
 consonants, vflien vowels are prefixed, or put after them, to 
 make them separately pronoimcible, (Te, eF, eL, etc.,) with 
 their powers in composition — as elements of words. Thus, it 
 is strictly true, that S and R have a sound, without the assist- 
 ance of a vowel, merely by their mode of articulation. But D, 
 or G, have no sound at all by themselves. The semivowels 
 are 1, m, n, r, s. (Dion. Halicarn. De Struct. Orat. sect. 14.) " 
 
 * i. e. the different organs of speech, from which letters arc 
 denominated nasal, dental, labial, etc. Taylor. 
 
 ^ G r is an instance of a syllable composed of a mute and a 
 semivowel ; and g r a of a syllable composed of a mute, a 
 vowel, and a semivowel. Taylor. But see Ritter. 
 
 ferences. 
 
 5. Sylla- 
 bles. 
 
CHAP. XX.] POETIC. 449 
 
 The study, liowever, of the differences of these, per- 
 tains also to the metrical art. But a conjunction is 6. Con- 
 a sound void of signification, which neither impedes 3"''<=ti™- 
 nor produces one significant sound adapted to be 
 composed from many sounds, and which may be 
 placed cither at the beginning or the end of the pe- 
 riod, unless something requires that it should be 
 placed by itself at the beginning ; such as fiev, ijroi, 
 Sfi. Or it is a sound without signification, composed 
 from more sounds than one, but naturally adapted to 
 produce one significant sound. An article is a sound 7. Article 
 without signification, which shows the beginning, or 
 end, or distinction of a word'; as to <pr)fii, and to 
 ■jrepi, and others of the like kind. Or it is a sound 
 without signification, which neither impedes nor pro- 
 duces one significant sound natm-ally adapted to be 
 composed from many sounds, both in the extremes and 
 in the middle. But a noun is a composite sound, 8. Noun, 
 significant without time, of which no part is of itself 
 significant. For in double nouns, we do not use the 
 parts as of themselves significant. Thus, in the word 
 Theodorus, [though Theos signifies God and doron a 
 gift,] yet doron signifies nothing. A verb is a com- 9. Verb, 
 posite sound, significant with time, of which no part 
 is of itself significant, in the same manner also as in 
 nouns. For man or white does not signify time ; but 
 he walks, or he did walk, signify, the former indeed 
 the present, and the latter the past time. But case 10. Case, 
 pertains to noun or verb. And one case, indeed, 
 [in nouns] signifies that something is said of this 
 thing, or is attributed to^ this thing, and the like; 
 
 ' This description is most obscure ; but the sense seems to 
 be, that an article is a sound which of itself does not signify 
 any thing definite, but merely serves to indicate a significant 
 sound, before or after which it is placed, or which it distin- 
 guishes from other words. Taylor. Ritter denies that there 
 is any sense at all, an opinion in which the reader will pro- 
 bably acquiesce. 
 
 ^ These only, in modern grammar, are called cases : in Aris- 
 totle, number, whether in noun or verb, and the tenses, and 
 modes, (or moods,) of verbs, are comprehended under that 
 term ; because eases (TrTwo-Ets — cases) are endings, termina- 
 tions, inflections, etc., and, in the learned languages, all the 
 
450 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. XXI. 
 
 11. Sen- 
 tence. 
 
 12. Its 
 unity. 
 
 but another iS that which pertains to one thing or 
 many things ; as men, or man. And another case 
 pertains to acting", such as what relates to interro- 
 gation or demand. For did he walk ? Or walk is a 
 case of a verb according to these species. And a 
 sentence is a composite significant sound, of which 
 certain parts of themselves signify something ; for 
 not every sentence is composed from nouns and 
 verbs, (since the definition of man'" is a sentence 
 without a verb,) but there may be a sentence without 
 verbs. A sentence, however, will always have some 
 part significant ; as in the sentence Clean walks, the 
 word Cleon is significant. But a sentence is one in 
 a twofold respect ; for it is either ihat which signi- 
 fies one thing, or that which becomes one from many 
 by conjunction"- Thus the Iliad, indeed, is one by 
 conjunction; but the definition of man is one, be- 
 cause it signifies one thing.] 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 On Nouns and Metaphors. 
 
 1. The With respect to the species of a noun, one is simple ; 
 nouns. ^"^^ I call the simple noun that which is not com- 
 
 above-mentioned differences of meaning are expressed by dif- 
 ferent terminations. The French use chute, the literal trans- 
 lation of casits, in the sense of termination — " La chute d'une 
 periode," etc. Knifall is used, in our poetical language, for 
 a close, or cadence, in music. 
 
 That strain again — it had a dying fall. 
 
 Merch. of Venice. 
 And so Milton in Comus, v. 251 . Twining. 
 
 " These modes are the same which he calls figures of speech, 
 Sect. 23. Twining. 
 
 '" The definition alluded to appears to be this, literally ren- 
 dered: "A terrestrial animal with two feet" (Jiook tteJoi', 
 Siirouv). Twining. 
 
 " Compare vipi 'Epfiriv. cap. v. p. 38. — Analyt. Post. lib. ii. 
 cap. 10. p. 469, E.— Metaphys. vii. 4. p. 910, D. (where he 
 uses Tw (Twix^L, as equivalent to avv6i<rfito,) and viii. 6. p. 
 
CHAP. XXI.] POETIC. 451 
 
 posed from significant parts ; but another is two- 
 fold. And this either consists of that which is sig- 
 nificant, and that which is without signification, or 
 of both parts significant. A noun also may be triple 
 and quadruple, as is the case with many of the nouns 
 of the MegaliotaB*; such as Hermocdicoxanthus^. 
 But every noun is either proper or foreign ', or me- 2. Their 
 taphorical, [or ornamental'',] or invented, or ex- divisions 
 tended, or contracted, or altered. But I call that a 3. Pro- 
 proper name, which is used by every one ; and that P^f ?°'^ 
 a foreign^ name which is used by other nations. 
 Hence it is evident that the same noun may be both 
 foreign and proper, though not to the same people. 
 For the word 'Ziyvvov^ is proper to the Cyprians, 
 
 931, C. Twining. Ritter remarks, that the compiler of this 
 chapter did not understand the passages he copied. 
 
 ' I have read, in some ludicrous hook, of a country that was 
 " lost hy the igrwrance of geographers.^' This seems to have 
 teen the case of these Megaliotts^ if such a people ever ex- 
 isted. They are no where recorded. — Dacier reads, ixiyapi- 
 ^oirrav — " ceux qui disent de grandes choses : " and cites Hesy- 
 chius — Meyapi^oyTEs — p.zya\a\iyovTz^, But this is too distant 
 from the present reading, MiyaKiwroiv. Winstanley's conjec- 
 ture — tizyaks-Liov, ws, is somewhat nearer, and, in other re- 
 spects, preferable : but it is, I think, a strong presumption 
 against its truth, that Aristotle constantly uses olov, when he 
 gives an instance ; never, as far as I recollect, los. 
 
 I have sometimes thought it not very improbable, that the 
 passage might originally have stood thus : Twy ^iyaXA Aua- 
 KONtoji/ : i. e. of those who affect, aim at, are fo7id of, 
 grandeur and pomp of expression ; who love hard words, as 
 we say. Nothing more common than this sense of SimKiiv. 
 Twining. 
 
 Donaldson, Theatre of the Greeks, p. 27, pt. 2, adopts Tyr- 
 whitt's conjecture, fxzyaXz'Kjiv ot^, as being confirmed by 
 Xenoph. Mem. II. 1, § 34, and renders it, "the bombastic 
 expressions." Ritter prefers iroXkaifKoixzyaKwito's, as an ex- 
 ample of this kind of word, but Donaldson seems right. 
 
 ^ This is a noun composed from the names of the three 
 rivers Hermus, Caicus, and Xanthus. 
 
 * Cf. Khet. iii. 1 and 2. 
 
 * Ritter condemns the addition of Kocrfios, as it has no de- 
 finition. 
 
 ' Ritter remarks that yXtoTTai are both provincialisms and 
 obsolete words. 
 ' i. e. « spear. 
 
452 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xxi. 
 
 4. Meta- but foreign to us. But a metaphor' is the transposi* 
 P*^"'- tion of a noun from its proper signification, either 
 
 from the genus to the species, or from the species fo 
 the genus ; or from species to species, or according 
 
 5. Differ- to the analagous. I call, however, a transposition 
 entmeta- fj.^^ genus to species, such as, 
 
 emplified. Secure in yonder port my vessel stands'. 
 
 For to be moored is a species of standing. But a 
 transposition from species to genus is such as, 
 
 Ten thousand valiant deeds 
 
 Ulysses has achieved'. 
 
 For ten thousand is a great number, and is now used 
 instead of many. And a transposition from species 
 to species is such as, 
 
 The brazen falchion drew away his life. 
 
 And, 
 
 Cut by the ruthless sword '". 
 
 For here to draw away, is used instead of to cut; 
 and to cut is used instead of to draw away ; since 
 
 6. Ana- both imply the taking something away. But I call 
 logous. it analogous, when the relation of the second term to 
 
 the first is similar to that of the fourth to the third ; 
 for then the fourth is used instead of the second, or the 
 second instead of the fourth. [And sometimes the 
 proper terra is added to the relative terms".] I say, 
 for instance, a cup has a siinilar relation to Bacchus 
 that a shield has to Mars. Hence, a shield may be 
 called the cup of Mars, and a cup the shield of Bac- 
 chus. Again, evening has the same relation to day 
 that old age has to life. One may therefore say that 
 
 ' Aristotle understands metaphor in a more extended sense 
 than we do, for we only consider the third and fourth of the 
 kinds enumerated by'him, as metaphors. Our usurpation of 
 the word was in vogue in Cicero's time. See de Oral. III. 
 38, sqq. Ritter. 
 
 » Odyss. A. 185. ' II. B. 272. 
 
 '" This, and the next species only, answer to what we call 
 metaphor — the metaphor founded on resemblance. The two 
 first species belong to the trope denominated, since Aristotle's 
 time, Synecdoche. Twining. 
 
 " This is perfectly out of place and useless. See Ritter. 
 
CHAP. XXI.] POETIC. 453 
 
 evening is the old age of day, and that old age is the 
 evening of life ; or as Empedocles calls it, " The set- 
 ting of life '^." In some instances, also, where there 7. Means 
 is no analogous name, this method may be no less ^i(,^„ 
 similarly employed. Thus, to scatter grain is to sow ; them. 
 but there is no name for the scattering of light from 
 the sun, and yet this has a similar relation to the sun 
 that sowing has to grain. Hence, it is said, 
 
 Sowing Ms god-created flame. 
 
 This mode of metaphor may likewise be used differ- 8. 
 ently, when, calling a thing by a foreign name, some- 
 thing belonging to it is denied of it ; as if one should 
 call a shield not the cup of Mars, but the wineless 
 cup. But an invented noun is that, in short, which, 9. Inyen- 
 not being adopted by others, is introduced by the poet ted words, 
 himself. For it appears that there are certain nouns 
 of this kind ; as substituting eptwysg instead of eepara 
 for horns^^, and calling a priest dpririip^^, instead of 
 'iepev£. And a word is extended or contracted, partly lo. Ex- 
 by using a vowel longer than the proper one, or by tended 
 inserting a syllable ; and partly by taking something t^^teT 
 away from it. An extended noun, indeed, is such as 
 ttoXt/oc for TToXewc, and Trr/Xj/Va^ew for tttjXeI^ov ; but 
 the contracted, such as Kp'i, and Sw'^j and, 
 
 Hia ylvfTCLi dfJL(j)OTEpO}U Ol|f ^^ 
 
 The sight of both is one. 
 
 And a word is changed when the poet leaves part of ll. 
 
 it, and invents part ; as. Changed. 
 
 " " Thy smi is set, thy spring is gone." 
 
 Gray, Ode on Spring. 
 " Yet hath my night of life some memory." 
 
 Shakspeare, Com. of Errors — last scene. Twining. 
 '^ i. e. brajicTtes ; which we also use for the horTis of a stag. 
 'But Aristotle means a new word, not a new ajjplication merely 
 of a word already in use. Twining. 
 
 " K supplicator ; literally, ajorayer, taken in the sense of one 
 whaprays; us seer is Msei'ioi prophet. Twining. 
 " Kpl is used II. E. 196. Am, II. A. 425. Twining. 
 '^ Part of a Terse of Empedocles, quoted by Strabo, p. 364, 
 ed. Cantab. 
 
454 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xxii. 
 
 In the right breast ". 
 ^cn£rs Iiistead of ScS,i6v. ['* Further still, of nouns some 
 gon ers. ^^^ masculine, others feminine, and others between, 
 [or neuter]. And the masculine, indeed, are such as 
 end in v, and p, and tr, and such as are composed from 
 0- ; but these are two, Tp and ?. The feminine nouns 
 are such as are composed from vowels, and always 
 end in long vowels ; as, for instance, in j; and w, or 
 in a of the doubtful. Hence it happens that the 
 number of terminations for masculine and feminine 
 are equal ; for the terminations of -ip and ^ are the 
 same. No noun, however, ends in a mute, or in a 
 short vowel; and only three nouns end in t, viz. 
 fiiXi, KOfifii, and neirepi. But five end in v ; viz. irHv, 
 vd-n-v, yovv, ^opv, and aarv. And the neuter nouns 
 end in these, and in v and £.] 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 The subject of Diction continued. 
 
 1. Two The virtue of diction, however, consists in being per- 
 'fdTt'on spicuous, and not mean^. The diction, therefore, is 
 clearness,' most perspicuous, which is composed from proper 
 and free- nouns, but then it will be mean. But an example of 
 meanneS ^'^'^ ^^ ^^^ poetry of Cleophon and Sthenelus. It 
 How pro- will, however, be elevated, and remote from the vul- 
 duced. ggj. i(jioiii, by employing unusual words. But I call 
 
 unusual words, such words as are foreign, the meta- 
 phorical, the extended, and every word except the 
 
 2. Re- proper [name of a thing]. If, however, [a poet] 
 suits and -vyholly employ such words as these, it will be either 
 the differ- ^^ enigma, or a barbarism. If, therefore, it were 
 
 ent kinds 
 
 of words. " II. E. 393. 
 
 " This following passage is false in its statements, and totally 
 foreign to Aristotle's design. Bitter, therefore, has rightly 
 condemned it. 
 
 ' Cf. Khet. iii. 1, extr. and 2. init. . 
 
CHAP. XXII.] POETIC. 455 
 
 composed from metaphors, it would be an enigma ; 
 but if from foreign words, a barbarism. For the 
 essence of an enigma is this, to unite things impos- 
 sible, yet really true''- Now, from the arrangement of 
 the words, it is not possible to effect this, but it may 
 be effected by a metaphor ; as " I saw a man who had 
 glued brass to a man with fire';" and others of the 
 like kind. [But from the composition of foreign 
 words a barbarism is produced''.] Hence language 
 should be moderately varied with these. Foreign, 3. 
 therefore, metaphorical, [and ornamental] words, and 
 the other species that have been mentioned, will 
 cause the diction to be neither vulgar nor mean ; but 
 proper words produce perspicuity. But the extend- 4. 
 ing, contracting, and changing of names, contribute 
 in no small degree to the perspicuity of the diction, 
 without vulgarity. For the use of words in a way 
 different from their proper and usual signification, 
 causes the diction to be not vulgar ; but the adoption 
 of words in their accustomed meaning, renders it 
 perspicuous. Hence those do not blame rightly, who 5. Objec- 
 
 find fault with this mode of speech, and like the an- ^'""^i^^ 
 _^ ,.,.-.. . [- 1 • • -1 1 lounded. 
 
 cient liuclid ridicule the poet, [objecting] that verse 
 
 might easily be composed, if one permit the quantity 
 of syllables to be lengthened at pleasure, making Iam- 
 bics even in common discourse ; as 
 
 rJTOi X.dpti/ alSoi/ Mapa8u}VpdSe (iaSi'^ovra. 
 
 And, 
 
 OiiK av y' Ipaixtvo^ tov tKtivov kXKi^opov^. 
 
 ^ TO \iyovTa iitrapxpuTa dSuvaTa <^vvd^Jfat, " io put together 
 things apparently inconsistent and impossible, and at the same 
 time saying nothing but what is true" Twining. 
 
 ^ Rliet. iii. 2. koWt^ulv sItte ttjv t^s trtKuas TrpoorjSoXvu. 
 The operation of cupping is meant. Compare Celsua ii. 11, 
 and AlmeloT. on Ccelius Aurel. Chronic, ii. 1. § 394. Ehod. 
 on Scribon. Larg. Compos, xlvi. The Jire alhides to the 
 burnt tow flinamentumj used to exhaust the air in the cup- 
 ping glass. 
 
 ' Apparently a gloss. See Ritter. 
 
 •' It is of little use to attempt to settle the reading of these 
 "nonsense verses." Eitter observes that the fault probably 
 lay in pronouncing ^aSSt^ovra, ippoLfitvo^, See his notes. 
 2 H 
 
4a6 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xxn. 
 
 6. It is evident, therefore, that to be detected using this 
 mode of diction is ridiculous. [But measure is com- 
 mon to all the parts of diction ^.J For it would pro- 
 duce the same effect, to make an improper and 
 ridiculous use of metaphors, foreign words, and other 
 
 7. forms of diction. But how great a difference is 
 made by the appropriate use of them, may be seen in 
 epic poetry, by putting the words in metre. And he 
 who transfers proper names into foreign words, into 
 metaphors, and the other forms, wiU see that what we 
 have said is true. Thus, for instance, JEschylus 
 and Euripides made the same Iambic verse ; but by 
 only changing one word from its proper and usual 
 to a foreign signification, the one verse appears 
 beautiful, and the other mean. For ^schylus in- 
 deed, in his Philoctetes, writes, 
 
 A cancerous ulcer feeds upon my foot. 
 
 But Euripides, instead of etrdiEt, feeds, uses the word 
 doivarai, banquets on. And, 
 
 NDy St fi idjv oXtyos te Kal oifTiSavos Kai &KLKvij 
 
 by inserting proper [and common] words, it will be, 
 
 Nui/ Si ft kdiv ^iKpos T£ Kai dirdEVlKdi /cai-d£i5^s'. 
 
 And, 
 
 ^icftpov ctEiKlXtov KaTaflEis, dXtytjv te TpairE^av. 
 
 * Twining renders, " in the employment of all the species 
 of unusual words, moderation is necessary." But this meaning 
 can scarcely be elicited from the words. See Hitter, who con- 
 demns the passage as an interpolation. 
 
 ' In this verse Polyphemus complains that he was deprived 
 of sight by Ulysses, a little, weak, vile man. But Homer, in- 
 ^ stead of using the word fiiKpo^, little, uses dXlyoi, which signi- 
 fies few. Instead of Aa-dtviKd?, puny, he uses oijTtSavd^, which 
 signijies a man of no account ; and clklkv^, powerless, instead 
 of dEiW(!, obscure. Taylor. Cf. Od. ix. 515. 
 
 ' In this verse, which is from the 21st book of the Odyssey, 
 Homer, for the purpose of signifying an ignoble seat, calls it by 
 a foreign word, ieiKiXwa, and not by the usual word, /xox^vpoy ; 
 and he calls the table, not fUKpai/, small, but oXiyijv, few. 
 Taylor, Cf. Od. xxi. 259. 
 
CHAP. XXII.] POETIC./ 457 
 
 Or change, r;"tov£c jSoowirtv (the shores rebellow 8) to 
 ^'iovec Kpd^ovaiy (the shores cry out). ['"Again, 8. Fur- 
 Ariphrades used to ridicule the tragic poets for em- ***". °^- 
 ploying modes of diction, which no one would use in Swered. 
 common conversation ; such as SaifxaTwy avo, and not 
 a-iro Suixariov, i. e. home from, and not from home; 
 aiOev [for <roi]; eyu ii viv", and 'A^^iWe'wc -jripi, and 
 not <aEpl 'Aj^iWe'us, i. e. Achilles about, and not about 
 Achilles; and other expressions of the like kind. 
 For all such forms of language, because they are not 
 in common use, remove vulgarity from the diction. 
 But this he did not know.] It is, however, a great 9- Proper 
 thing to use each of the above-mentioned modes in a ^"'^'j^ 
 becoming manner ; and also compound and foreign words, 
 words. But the greatest thing is to employ meta- 
 phors well. For this alone cannot be acquired from 
 another, but it is an indication of an excellent genius; 
 since to employ metaphors well, is to discern simili- 
 tude '2. But of words, the compound are chiefly 10- as 
 suited to dithyrambic verse, the foreign to heroic, each kind 
 and metaphors to Iambic verse. And in heroic verse, of poetry. 
 indeed, all the above-mentioned words are useful; 
 but in Iambics, because they especially imitate com- 
 mon discourse, those words are adapted which may 
 be also used in conversation. And words of this 
 description are, the proper, the metaphorical, [and 
 the ornamental.] And thus much may suffice con- 
 cerning tragedy, and the imitation in acting". 
 
 " II. p. 265.— Pope's line is, 
 
 " And distant rocks rebellow to the roar." Twining. 
 
 '° Eitter objects to this clause. Twining, however, admires 
 and commends its conclusion. 
 
 -' Cf. Soph. CEd. col. 987. 
 
 '^ More clearly expressed in Ehet. iii. II. 5, to o/jloiou Kai 
 iv iroXif SiE-]^ovai dztopsivf iuaTOXOv. 
 
 '^ These last words appear to me out of place. 
 
 2h2 
 
458 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. XXIII. 
 
 CHAP. xxin. 
 
 1. On nar- 
 rative 
 poetry. 
 Its simi- 
 larity to 
 tragedy. 
 
 3. Praise 
 ofHomer, 
 and com- 
 parison 
 with 
 other 
 poets. 
 
 On the Epic Poem. 
 
 Concerning the poetry, however, which is narrative 
 and imitative in metre, it is evident that it ought to 
 have dramatic fables, in the same manner as tragedy, 
 and should be conversant with one whole and per- 
 fect action, which has a beginning, middle, and end, 
 in order that, like one whole animal, it may produce 
 its appropriate pleasure'; and that it may not be like 
 the custom of histories, in which it is not necessary 
 to treat of one action, but of one time, viz. of such 
 things as have happened in that time, respecting one 
 or more persons, the relation of each of which things 
 to the other is just as it may happen. For as the 
 sea-fight at Salamis, and the battle with the Cartha- 
 ginians in Sicily, though they happened at the same 
 time, tend nothing to the same end ; thus also in suc- 
 cessive times, one thing may sometimes be connected 
 with another, from which no one end is produced. 
 But nearly all poets do this. Hence, as we have 
 before observed, in this respect also Homer will ap- 
 pear to be divine, when compared with other poets, 
 because he did not attempt to sing of the whole of 
 the Trojan war, though it had a beginning and an 
 end. For if he had, it would have been very great, 
 and not sufficiently conspicuous ; or if it had been 
 of a moderate size, it would have been intricate 
 through the variety of incidents ^. But now, having 
 selected one part of the war, he has made use of 
 many episodes ; such as the catalogue of the ships, 
 and other episodes, with which he has adorned his 
 
 ' i. e. opposed (as appears from what follows) to that which 
 history gives. Unity of interest is essential to the pleasure we 
 expect from the epic poem ; and this cannot exist, at least in 
 the degree required, without unity ai action. Twining. 
 
 2 Because "the length of the whole would" then "not ad- 
 mit of a proper magnitude in the parts; " and thus an epte 
 poem constructed upon an historical plan, would be exactly in 
 the same case with a tragedy "constructed on an epio plan." 
 Twining. 
 
CHAP. XXIV.] POETIC. 459 
 
 poem. Other poets, however, have composed a fable 
 about one man, and one time, and one action, consist- 
 ing of many parts ; as the authors of the Cjrpriacs, 
 and the Lesser Iliads [With respect to the Iliad *■ 
 and Odyssey, therefore, one or two tragedies only 
 could be made from each. But many might be made 
 from the Cypriacs ; and from the Lesser Iliad more 
 than eight ; such as the Judgment of the Arms ■*, 
 Philoctetes ^, Neoptolemus, Eurypylus ^, the Begging 
 [of Ulysses], the Lacaense, the Destruction of Troy, 
 the Return of the Greeks, Sinon, and the Troades. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 On the Species, Paris, etc. of Epic Poetry. 
 
 Again, it is requisite that the epopee should have the l- The 
 same species as tragedy. [For it is necessary that and^,^arts 
 it should be either simple, or complex, or ethical, or of epic 
 pathetic '.] The parts also are the same, except the Po^'T- 
 music and the scenery. For it requires revolutions, 
 discoveries, and disasters ; and besides these, the sen- 
 
 ^ Of this kind seems the poem of Ariosto, the exordium, of 
 ■which not only expresses the. miscellaneouB variety of his mat- 
 ter, but, also, his principle of unity. 
 
 Le Donne, i cavalier, 1' arme, gli amori, 
 
 Le cortesie, 1' audaci imprese, io canto, 
 
 Chefuro al tempo che passaro i Mori, etc. 
 Ariosto's expedient was, to "intertwist the several actions to- 
 gether, in order to give something like the appearance of one 
 action " to the whole, as has been observed of Spenser [Let- 
 ters on Chivalry, etc.] : he has given his poem the continuity of 
 basket-work. Or, if I may be indulged in another comparison, 
 his unity is the unity produced between oil and vinegar by 
 shaking them together, which only makes them separate by 
 smaller portions. Twining. 
 
 * So called to distinguish it from the Iliad of Homer, of which 
 it seems to have been a continuation. Twining. 
 
 . ^ i. e. between Ajax and Ulysses. JEschylus wrote a tra- 
 gedy on this subject, of which the AJax of Sophocles is the 
 sequel. Dacier. 
 
 * Of these two plays nothing is known. 
 ' Condemned by Ritter. 
 
460 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xxiv. 
 
 timents and the diction should be well formed ; all 
 which were first used by Homer, and are used by him 
 
 2. Differ- fitly For of his two poems, the Iliad indeed con- 
 ence be- tains the simple and pathetic ; but the Odyssey, the 
 ir^d' * a^ complex ; for through the whole of it there is dis- 
 Odyssey. covery^ and moral. And besides these things, he 
 
 3. Length excelled all poets in diction and sentiment. The 
 ■ epopee, however, differs ftom tragedy in the length 
 
 poem. of the composition, and in the metre. But the pro- 
 per boundary of its length has been before described ; 
 for it should be such that the beginning and the end 
 may be seen at one view. [And this will be effected 
 if the compositions are shorter than those of the an- 
 cient poets, and brought to the same length with the 
 multitude of tragedies that are recited at one hear- 
 
 4. Its ing'-] But it is the peculiarity of the epopee to 
 power of possess abundantly the power of extending its mag- 
 extension. ui^yjg . fgp tragedy is not capable of imitating many 
 
 actions that are performed at the same time, but that 
 part only which is represented in the scene, and 
 acted by the players. But in the epopee, in conse- 
 quence of its being a narration, many events may be 
 introduced which have happened at the same time, 
 which are properly connected with the subject, and 
 from which the bulk of the poem is increased. Hence, 
 this contributes to its magnificence, transports the 
 hearer to different places, and adorns the poem with 
 dissimilar episodes. For similitude of events rapidly 
 
 5. Its produces satiety, and causes tragedies to fail. But 
 proper heroic metre is established by experience as adapted 
 metre. ^q ^j^g gpopee. For if any one should attempt narra- 
 tive imitation in any other metre, or in many 
 
 ^ See Pope's translation, xji. 206, etc., where Ulysses dis- 
 covers himself to Telemachus — xxi. 212, to the shepherds — 
 xxiii. 211, to Penelope — xxiv. 375, to his father — ix. 17, 
 to Alcinous — iv. 150, etCi, Telemachus is discovered to Me- 
 uelaus by his tears — v. 189, to Helen, by his resemblance to 
 his father — xix. 545, Ulysses is discovered to the old nurse, 
 by the scar. Twining. 
 
 ' This is quite contrary to Aristotle's own opinion. See Hit- 
 ter. Twining's great and tasteful learning cannot bring him 
 to any satisfactory explanation of these words. 
 
CHAP. XXIV.] POETIC. 461 
 
 metres mingled together, the unfitness of it would be 
 apparent. For heroic metre is of all others the most 
 stable and ample. [Hence it especially receives 
 foreign words and metaphors. For narrative imita- 
 tion excels all others ■•.] But Iambics and tetrametres 
 have more motion ; the one being adapted to dancing, 
 but the other to acting. It would, however, be still 6. Ob- 
 more absurd, to mingle them together, as Chferemon* ^"^F'ty "f 
 did. Hence, no one has composed a long poem in metre». 
 any other measure than the heroic ; but, as we have 
 said. Nature herself teaches us to distinguish the 
 measure best suited. Homer, indeed, deserves to be 7. Praise 
 praised for many other things, and also because he is "f Homer, 
 the only poet who was not ignorant what he ought 
 to do himself. For it is requisite that the poet 
 should speak in his own person as little as possible ; 
 for so far as he does so he is not an imitator*. Other 
 poets, therefore, take an active part through the 
 whole poem, and they only imitate a few things, and 
 seldom^. But Homer, after a short preface, imme- 
 diately introduces a man or a woman, or something 
 else* that has manners; for there is nothing in his 
 poem unattended with manners. It is necessary, g. The 
 therefore, in tragedies to produce the wonderful ; but ^^onder- 
 that which is contrary to reason (whence the wonder- 5^5^°^";^ 
 ful is best produced) is best suited to the epopee, reference 
 from the agent not being seen '. In the next place, t° tragedy 
 the particulars respecting the pursuit of Hector epopee 
 
 * Condemned by Kitter. » Cf. i. 9. 
 
 ' Strictly speaking. See Dissertation i. p. 37. Twining. 
 
 ' This is remaricably tlie case with Lucan ; of whom Hobbes 
 says, that " no heroic poem raises such admiration of the poet 
 as his hath done, though not so great admiration of the persons 
 he introducetk.'* — [Discourse concerning the Virtues of an 
 Heroic Poem.] Twining. 
 
 * As gods, goddesses, allegorical beings, etc. Twining. 
 
 ' The best comment to which I can refer the reader upon 
 all this part of Aristotle, is to be found in the 1 0th of the Let- 
 ters on Chivalry and Romance, in which the Italian poets, and 
 the privileges of genuine poetry, are vindicated, with as much 
 solidity as elegance, against those whom Dryden used to call 
 his " Prose Critics,'* — against that sort of criticism *' which 
 looks like philosophy, and is not." — Dr. Kurd's Dialogues, etc. 
 vol. iii. Twining. 
 
462 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [OHAP. XXIV. 
 
 9. False 
 reasonings 
 respecting 
 poetry. 
 
 10. Fur- 
 ther pre- 
 cepts re- 
 specting 
 poetic 
 proba- 
 bility. 
 
 would appear ridiculous in the scene ; tlie Greeks 
 indeed standing still, and not pursuing, and Achilles 
 making signs to them, by the motion of his head,- not 
 to engage". But in the epopee this is concealed. 
 Now, the wonderful pleases ; of which this is an in- 
 dication, that aU men, when they wish to gratify their 
 hearers, add something to what they relate. Homer 
 also in the highest degree taught others how to feign 
 in a proper manner. But this is a paralogism. For 
 men fancy that when the consequent follows or re- 
 sults from the antecedent, the consequent may be 
 converted, and that the antecedent will follow from 
 the consequent. This, however, is false. [But why, 
 if the antecedent he false, so long as this other be 
 otherwise, should the consequent necessarily follow ? 
 For through knowing the consequent to be true, our 
 soul paralogizes, and concludes that the antecedent 
 also is true. And there is an example of this in " the 
 Washing ^'."] Again, one should prefer things which 
 are impossible but probable, to such as are possible 
 but improbable. Fables also should not be composed 
 from irrational parts, [but as much as possible, in- 
 deed, they should have nothing irrational in them : 
 if, however, this is impossible, care should be taken 
 that the irrational circumstance does not pertain to 
 the fable, as in the case of CEdipus not knowing how 
 Laius died '^. For it must not be brought into the 
 drama, like the narration of the Pythian games in 
 the Electra'', or him who, in the tragedy of the 
 
 '0 Pope's Iliad, xxii. 267. — Perhaps the idea of stopping 
 a whole army by a nod, or shake of the head, (a circumstance 
 distinctly mentioned by Homer, but sunk in Mr. Pope's ver- 
 sion,) was the absurdity here principally meant. If this whole 
 Homeric scene were represented on our stage, in the best 
 manner possible, there can be no doubt that the eiiect would 
 justify Aristotle's observation. It would certainly set the 
 audience in a roar. Twining. 
 
 ' ' I follow Ritter's text and version, but both he and Donald- 
 son regard these words as an interpolation. 
 
 " Cf. Soph. CEd. Tyr. 112, sqq. This clause is condemned 
 by Bitter. 
 
 " Id. Electr. 680, sqq. See my Introduction to Sophocles, 
 p. xiii. 
 
CHAP. XXV.] POETIC. 463 
 
 Mysians, comes from Tegea to Mysia without speak- 
 ing.] It is ridiculous, therefore, to say, that other- 
 wise the fable would be destroyed ; for such fables 
 should not at first be composed. But if they are 
 composed, and it appears more reasonable that they 
 should be, the absurdity also must be admitted; 
 since the irrational circumstances in the Odyssey, 
 such as Ulysses being left [on the shore of Ithaca by 
 the Phoeacians], would evidently have been intoler- 
 able, if they had been fabricated by a bad poet. But 
 now the poet conceals the absurdity, and renders it 
 pleasing by the addition of other beauties. The. die- 11. The 
 tion, likewise, should be laboured in the sluggish diction in 
 parts of the poem, and which exhibit neither manners spectiTe 
 nor sentiment'''. For a very splendid'^ diction con- parts, 
 ceals the manners and the reasoning. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 On removing critical Objections. 
 
 [With respect to critical objections ', and the solu- i- Objec- 
 tions of them, the number and quality of their species Critics" 
 
 " The reader may wonder that Aristotle did not add — " nor 
 passion." But that part of the epic and tragic poem, which 
 he calls the sentiments, includes the expression of passion. 
 Twining. 
 
 " " His diction [ Thomson's"] is in the highest degree florid 
 and luxuriant; such as may be said to be to his images and 
 thoughts both their lustre and their shade ; such as invests them 
 with splendour, through which perhaps they are not always 
 easily discerned." — Dr. Johnson's Life of Thomson. Twining. 
 
 ' The original is, Problems. This appears to have been a 
 common title of critical works in Aristotle's time. Objections, 
 censures, and the most unreasonable cavils, were conveyed in 
 the civil form of problems and questions. Thus, many criti- 
 cisms on Homer were published under the title of Homeric 
 Problems. 
 
 The scope of this part of Aristotle's work is of more import- 
 ance to his subject than, at first view, it may appear to be. 
 In teaching how to answer criticisms, it, in fact, teaches, (as 
 &r, I mean, as it goes,) what the poet should do to avoid 
 
464 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xxv. 
 
 and tlieir will become apparent from surveying them as follows, 
 solutions. Since the poet is an imitator, in the same manner as 
 a painter, or any other person who makes likenesses, 
 it is necessary that he should always imitate one of 
 the three [objects of imitation]. For he must either 
 imitate things such as they were or are, or such as 
 they are said and appear to be^, or such as they 
 2. ought to be. But these are enunciated either by 
 [common] diction, or by foreign words and meta- 
 phors. For there are many modifications* of diction ; 
 3. Error and we concede these to the poets. Besides this, 
 twofold, these is not the same rectitude of politics and poetry, 
 and acci- nor of any other art and poetry. But of poetry itself, 
 dental. the error is twofold ; the one essential, the other 
 4. accidental. For the error is essential, when it at- 
 tempts to imitate that which is beyond its power; 
 but [when it attempts to imitate improperly, as*] if, 
 for instance, a horse should be described as moving 
 both its right legs together, or an error in any of the 
 
 giving occasion to them. It seems, indeed, intended as an 
 apology for Poetry ^ and a vindication of its privileges upon true 
 poetical principles, at a time "when the art and its professors 
 were unfairly attacked on all sides, by the cavils of prosaic 
 philosophers and sophists, such as Ariphrades, Protagoras, 
 Euclid, etc., and by the puritanical objections of Plato and his 
 followers. Twining. 
 
 If Ritter's strictures be true, our acquaintance with Aristotle's 
 Poetics is now at an end. In a learned annotation (pp. 263 — 6) 
 he seems to have completely proved the spurious character of 
 both this and the following chapter. 
 
 ' This includes all that is called /ocn/, machinery, ghosts, 
 witches, enchantments, etc. — things, according to Hohbes, 
 " beyond the actual bounds, and only within the " conceieed 
 possibility of nature." [See the Letters on Chivalry, as above.] 
 Such a being as Caliban, for example, is impossible. Yet 
 Shakspeare has madrf the character appear probable ; not, cer- 
 tainly, to reason, but to imagination; that is, we malie no diffi- 
 cuUy abotit the possibility of it, in reading. Is not the Lovelace 
 of Richardson, in this view, more out of nature, more impro- 
 bable, than the Caliban of Shakspeare ? The latter is, at least, 
 consistent. I can imagine such a monster as Caliban : I never 
 could imagine such a man as Lovelace. Twining. 
 
 * iraSt], inflections, dialectic variations, etc. 
 
 * These words, t& irpotKiaSai fju) 6p6ws, are totally incon- 
 sistent with the meaning. See Hitter. 
 
CHAP. XXV.] POETIC. 465 
 
 arts be committed in poetry, as in medicine, or any 
 other art, when it fabricates things that are impos- 
 sible, these, therefore, wliatever they may be, are not 
 the essential errors of poetry. Hence, one must re- 5. 
 fute the objections of critics from surveyinar these '^^'^ 
 particulars. For in the first place, indeed, the poet may be 
 errs, if what he fabricates is impossible according to removed, 
 the art itself ; but it will be right if the end of po- 
 etry is obtained by it. For we have before shown 
 what the end is, viz. if the poet thus renders what 
 he fabricates, or any other part of the poem, more 
 capable of producing a more striking effect^. An 
 example of this is the pursuit of Hector. If, how- 
 ever, this end can be more or less attained, and that 
 according to the art pertaining to these things, then 
 the fault wiU not be excusable. For it is requisite 
 if possible to be entirely vsdthout error. Further 
 still, it should be considered whether the error ranks 
 among things essential to the poetic art, or foreign 
 and incidental. For it is a less fault not to know 
 that a hind has no horns, than to depict a bad copy 
 of one. Besides this, also, if the poet is blamed for 6. 
 not imitating things as they truly are, the reply is, 
 but he imitates them as they should be.^ Thus So- 
 phocles said, that he described men such as they 
 should be, but Euripides such as they are. If, how- 
 ever, it should be objected, that the poet represents 
 things in neither of these ways, he may say that he 
 represents them as men say they are; as, for in- 
 stance, in things pertaining to the gods. For per- 7- 
 haps it is neither better thus to speak, nor true, but 
 it is just as it may happen ; as Xenophanes observes, 
 "At any rate they tell us such things^." Perhaps, 
 however, it may be said, that it is not better, indeed, 
 thus to speak, but that the thing was so ; as in the 
 passage concerning the arms [of the sleeping sol- 
 diers of Diomed] : 
 
 ^ A false definition. See Ritter. 
 
 8 " Tyrwhitt's emendation, (iXX* ouv tpatriv Ta5e, seems to be 
 the best of those which have been proposed." Donaldson. 
 
466 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xxv. 
 
 eyx'" '5' T^iv opd' ettI cravpwTJipo^, ■ 
 
 fixed upright in the earth 
 
 Their spears stood by ' 
 
 For such was the custom at that time, as it is now 
 
 8. with the Ulyrians. With respect, however, to the 
 
 inquiry whether a thing is said or done by any one 
 
 well or ill, we must not only regard the thing itself 
 
 which is done or said, whether it is good or bad, but 
 
 we must also [consider] the person by whom it is done 
 
 or said, Viz. concerning whom, or when, or to whom, or 
 
 on what account, he speaks or acts ; as whether it is 
 
 for the sake of bringing to pass a greater good, or in 
 
 9. Die- order to avoid a greater evil. But it is requisite to 
 
 tion. remove some objections by looking to the diction ; 
 
 as, for instance, to foreign words : 
 
 On mules th' infection first began. 
 
 For perhaps he does not use ovp-ijaQ to signify mules, 
 but guards^ And in what he says of Dolon, 
 
 eI5os fj.£v Evv /ca/co's" 
 
 of form unhappy 
 
 It may be said that elSog KaKos does not signify a 
 body without symmetry, but a deformed face. For 
 the Cretans call a man with a good face eveiStie. 
 And, 
 
 XaypOTEpov Sk Ktpate ^^ 
 
 For ^wporepov may not mean undiluted wine, as for 
 
 ' II. X. 152. See Ritter. 
 
 * II. A. 50. Zoihis thought the pestilence should have be- 
 gun with the men first. 
 
 ° II. K. 316. The objection of the critics is supposed to 
 have been, that an ill-made man could not be a good racer. 
 See Pope's note. Twining. 
 
 '" Iliad ix. 267, 8.' — Pope follows the common, and probably 
 the right, acceptation of the word. "Mixptw-er wine."— Aris- 
 totle's interpretation has not made its fortune with the critics. 
 He seems to have produced it rather as an exemplification of 
 the sort of answer which he is here considering, than as an 
 opinion in which he acquiesced himself. It was, probably, an 
 answer which had been given. The cavil, according to Plu- 
 tarch, came from Zoilus. [See the Symposiac Prob. of Plut. 
 V. 4, where this subject is discussed, and several other con- 
 jectural senses of the word ZwpoTspoi/ are proposed.] Twining. 
 
CHAP. XXV.] POETIC. 467 
 
 intemperate drinkers, but wine poured out rapidly. 
 
 But a thing is said metaphorically, as, 10 Meta- 
 
 The other gods and men '' ^ 
 
 Slept all the night. 
 
 And at the same time he says : 
 
 'Hxoi ot' £s TriSiov to TptoiKOV ddpritFBlEV 
 'AvXSitv (Tvpiyytov 6' ofiaSov, 
 
 For all is said metaphorically, instead of many, all" 
 being a species of many. And thus o'lj; S' (ififiopoe is 
 said of Orion metaphorically. For that which is 
 most known, is called alone ot sole^^. Objections also U. Ac- 
 may be solved from accent, as Hippias the Thasian °®°'' 
 solved the following passages : 
 
 Stdo^tv Si OL [ev'Xos dpi<r0aL]. 
 
 And, 
 
 TO fihi/ oil KaTairvdsTat Ofi^poi ". 
 
 Objections likewise may be solved by punctuation ; 12. Punc- 
 as in the following instance from Empedocles, tuation. 
 
 Ati^a Sk dtiriT EfpuovTO, TO. Trplv fiadov &6dt/aT' sli/ai, 
 
 *i Beginning of II. ii. — What it was that wanted defence in 
 this passage, and that was to be taken metaphorically, we are 
 not told. That it was the representation of the gods as sleep- 
 ing, is the most probable conjecture. This is somewhat sqil- 
 ened by Mr. Pope's " slumbered." Homer says — " slept all 
 the night" — tv&ov travi/ux^oi. Twining. 
 
 '2 rTTuuTEi is a far-fetched notion from iramixtoL. The author 
 has blundered between II. B. 1., and II. I. I, and II — 13. 
 See Eitter. 
 
 1^ II. xxi. 297, has diSo/izv Si tol zxixoi dpitrdaiy but the line, 
 as here quoted, is not found in Homer. See Eitter. Taylor ob- 
 serves : "It alludes to the order given by Jupiter to the dream in 
 II. ii. to deceive Agamemnon. Here, if SiSofi^u is read with 
 an accent in the antepenult, it will signify damiis, and will im- 
 ply that Jupiter promises Agamemnon glory from the battle ; 
 but if it is read with an accent in the penult, Silofitv, so as to 
 be the infinitive Ionic, it will signify dare. It will therefore 
 imply that Jupiter orders the dream to give the hope of victory 
 to Agamemnon." 
 
 " If this is read with the circumflex on the ov, it will signify 
 that the oak became putrid by the raiu, which is absurd ; but 
 if it is read with an acute accent and spiritus lenis ou, it will 
 signify not, and will imply, that the oak was not rotted by the 
 rain. Taylor. 
 
 " The sense here depends on the punctuation. For if the 
 
468 ARISTOTLE'S '[chap, xxv 
 
 13. Ambi- Or by ambiguous expressions, as [in Iliad, x.] 
 
 gnity. 
 
 tranes. 
 
 - 'irap(^')(rtKtv ^k irXioju l/u^^**. 
 
 Night of two parts the greater shaie had waned. 
 But of her empire still a third remain'd. 
 
 U. Cu8- For the word ttXewv is ambiguous. Or objections 
 ^™.°^ may be answered from tbe custom of diction ; as 
 
 when wine is called KE/cpa/iEcoc, mixed ^'' ; whence has 
 
 been said, 
 
 Greaves of new-wrought tin. 
 
 And those that work on iron are called braziers "- 
 Whence Ganymede is said 
 
 To pour out wine for Jove ''; II. 20. 
 
 though the gods do not drink wine. But this may 
 15. Con- also be metaphorically said. It is necessary, how- 
 ever, when a word appears to signify something of a 
 contrary nature, to consider how many significations 
 it may have in the passage before us ; as, 
 
 " There stuck the lance ^"i :'" 
 
 For here the word stuck implies that the lance was 
 impeded. Of how many different senses a word may 
 admit, one may learn thus, by a contrary manner 
 
 comma is put after S">/"i in the second line, instead of vplv, the 
 sense will be, " Immediately those things were made mortal 
 which before had learnt to be immortal, and pure which be- 
 fore were mixed." But if the comma is put after ■r-plu instead 
 of Jmpii, the sense will be, " that those things which before were 
 pure, were mixed." Taylor. But see Ritter's learned note. 
 
 " But the ambiguity is occasioned by the word ■jrXiav, which 
 may either signify more than, or t/ie greater part of. Taylor. 
 II. K. 252. 
 
 "Atrxpa Sk dii 'jrpopifiTiKS, iraptjayTjKBV ht nrXimv v(il^, 
 Toiv dvo fxoipdoiv. 
 
 " " Ea potio quae ex aqua et vino commixta est tamen vinum 
 nominatur. Nove dictum (painv ilvai pro Xiyoviriv." Ritter. 
 
 ^^ " Schol. in Hom. II. T. 283. iraXaiA v xpv'^i-^ '^ov ^hXkoi/ 
 ovofi^.'^uv Tdv (TiSripov. afiiXti Kai 5(aX/c£as tous t6v (riSijpov ip- 
 ya'^o/jLEvous. Ritter. 
 
 >» II. Y. 234. 
 
 "1 II. Y. 272. This is consummate twaddle. See Twining 
 and Ritter. 
 
CHAP. xxT.] POETIC. 469 
 
 from what G-lauco says^', [when he asserts that] 
 " some men presuppose irrationally, and then reason 
 from their own decision: and, having once pronounced 
 their opinion, reprobate whatever is contrary to their 
 [preconceived] opinion." This was the case with re- 
 spect to Icarius. For the multitude fancy that he was 
 a Laconian. On this supposition, therefore, it is ab- 
 surd that Telemachus should not meet him, on his ar- 
 rival at Lacedasmon^^. Perhaps, however, the truth 
 is as the Cephalenians say, viz. that Ulysses married 
 among them, and that Icadius, and not Icarius, [was 
 his father-in-law]. It is probable, therefore, that this 17- 
 objection is erroneous. In short, it is necessary to 
 refer the impossible either to the poetry, or to that 
 which is better, or to opinion. For, with respect to 
 poetry, probable impossibility is more eligible, than 
 the improbable and possible, and things should be 
 such as Zeuxis ^ painted. And also [we may refer 
 the impossible] to that which is better*'' : for it is ne- 
 cessary that the pattern should transcend those things 
 which are said to be irrational. The objection, also, 
 that something is irrational may be solved by saying, 
 that sometimes it is not irrational ; for it is probable 
 that what is improbable may have happened. But 18- 
 with respect to the solution of apparent contraries, 
 these are to be considered in the same manner as 
 
 " This is most clumsily and indistinctly expressed. 
 
 ^ See Bitter. 
 
 2' " In ancient days, while Greece was flourishing in liberty 
 and arts, a celehrated painter, [Zettxis,'] having drawn many 
 excellent pictures for a certain free state, and been generously 
 rewarded for his labours, at last made an offer to paint them a 
 Helen, as a model and exemplar of the most exquisite beauty. 
 The proposal was readily accepted, when the artist informed 
 them, that in order to draw one Fair, it was necessary he 
 should contemplate many. He demanded, therefore, a sight of 
 all their finest women. The state, to assist the work, assented 
 to his request- They were exhibited before him ; he selected 
 the most beautiful ; and from these formed his Helen, more 
 beautiful than them all." — Harris's Three Treatises, p. 216. 
 Twining. 
 
 ^* Improved nature, ideal beauty, etc., which, elsewhere, is 
 expressed by what should 6e. Twining. Ritter rightly sup- 
 plies TO dSOvarov osi dvayttv. 
 
470 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 [chap. XXVI. 
 
 19. 
 
 When 
 reprehen- 
 sion is 
 correct. 
 
 20. Sum- 
 mary. 
 
 elenchi ^^ in arguments, if the same thing [is affirmed 
 or denied] , and with respect to the same thing, and 
 after the same manner, and whether it is the same 
 person [who affirms and denies], and also with what 
 reference he speaks, and what a wise man would un- 
 derstand from his words ^°. The reprehension [of 
 poets] on the score of improbability^' and vicious 
 manners will be right, through which it is shown', 
 that they have without any necessity devised some- 
 thing irrational. Thus irrationality is used [with- 
 out any necessity] by Euripides in his ^geus, and 
 viciousness, in the character of Menelaus, in his 
 Orestes. The reprehensions, therefore, may be de- 
 lived from five species. For they are either made 
 because impossibilities are introduced, or absurdities, 
 or things of evil tendency, or contraries, or as errors 
 committed against the rectitude of art. But the so- 
 lutions may be surveyed from the above-mentioned 
 number ; for they are twelve.^'] 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 One may, however, question whether epic or tragic 
 
 For if that imita- 
 
 1. Ee- 
 
 meritJof imitation is the more excellent. 
 
 tragic and tion is the better which is less troublesome to the 
 
 epic imi- 
 tation. 
 
 spectator, and such an imitation pertains to better 
 spectators, that which imitates every thing is evi- 
 dently attended with molestation. For, as if the 
 spectators will not perceive what is acted without 
 the addition of much movement ', they make great 
 
 '^ i. e. confutations. 
 
 ^' I have followed Ritter, who has done much for this awk- 
 ward heap of tautologies. 
 
 ^ Surely the words koI aXoyia Kai fioyQ-qpta are corrupt or 
 interpolated. 
 
 ^* The reader who regards his own ease, will, I believe, do 
 well to take this for granted. If, however, he has any desire 
 to try the experiment, he may read my note on this passage ; 
 and I wish it may answer to him. Twining. 
 
 ' Though Aristotle instances in gesture only, the objection, 
 
CHAr. XXVI.] POETIC. 471 
 
 gesticulations ; just as bad players on the flute turn 
 themselves round, when it is requisite to imitate the 
 action of the discus ; or when they sing of Scylla, draw 
 to themselves^ the corypheeus, or leader of the band. 
 Such, then, is tragedy, as the modern actors are in 2. Com- 
 the estimation of their predecessors'. Hence, Mynis- plaints re- 
 cus called Callipides an ape, in consequence of carry- actors''^ 
 ing his imitation to a great excess. And there was 
 also a similar opinion respecting Pindar [the player]'. 
 But as these latter actors are to the former, so is the 
 whole art of tragedy to the epopee. They say, there- 
 fore, that the epopee is calculated for hearers of the 
 better sort, on which account it does not require 
 scenery ; but that tragedy is calculated for the vul- 
 gar. Hence, tragic imitation, which is troublesome 
 to the spectator, will evidently be inferior to epic 
 imitation. 
 
 In the first place, however, this accusation does 3. But 
 not pertain to the poet, but the actor ; since it is *^^ wliole 
 possible in reciting epic poetry to overdo action, as rather 
 Sosistratus did, and singing likewise, as Mnastheus pertains 
 
 of Opus did. In the next place, neither is all motion *" *^.. 
 
 ■IT .-!• ■ f ■ i-TPi • aetorthan 
 
 to be despised, since neither is every kind 01 dancing, the poet. 
 
 no doutt, extended to the whole imitative representation of the 
 theatre, including the stage and scenery, by which place is 
 imitated, and the dresses, -which are necessary to complete the 
 imitation of the persoTis. Twining. 
 
 2 "EX/foFxes TOP Kopvcliainv — To imitate Scylla, — " naves in 
 saxa trahentem," as Virgil has expressed it. But it is not easy 
 to see how the performer, at least while he was playing, could 
 well spare a hand for this operation.^This was even worse 
 than what we call humouring a catch ; when, for instance, a 
 singer who is performing Purcell's "Fie, nay priffiee, John," 
 — thinks it necessary to collar his neighbour. Twining. 
 
 Sheridan has burlesqued this habit of "suiting the action" 
 with admirable humour in " the Critic." Sir Christopher Hat- 
 ton turning out his toes. Lord Burleigh shaking his head, and 
 Tilburnia going mad in white satin, are among the best of his 
 innumerable /oceiiffl on the subject. Compare also " the Ee- 
 hearsal," Act 1, where Bayes instructs the Thunder and Light- 
 ning how to express their noisy and rapid powers by suitable 
 action. 
 
 ' The " decline of the drama," then, was a subject of com- 
 plaint at Athens, as well as in London. 
 2 I 
 
472 ARISTOTLE'S [chap. xxvi. 
 
 but only that which is bad; and hence Callipedes 
 was blamed, as others now are for imitating light 
 women ^ Further still, tragedy, in the same manner 
 as the epopee, may fulfil its purpose without gesture ; 
 for by reading, it is manifest what kind of thing it is. 
 If, therefore, it is in other respects better, it is not ne- 
 cessary that it should be accompanied [by motion and 
 4. Eca- gesture]. In the next place, tragedy has every thing 
 the™™;- which the epopee possesses. For it may use metre, 
 rioritj- of and it has also music and scenery, as no small parts, 
 tragedy, through which the pleasure it produces is most ap- 
 parent. To which may be added, that it possesses 
 perspicuity, both when it is read, and when it is 
 
 5- acted. The end, too, of its imitation is confined in 
 less extended limits. For being crowded into a nar- 
 rower compass, it becomes more pleasing than if it 
 were diifused through a long period of time. Thus, 
 for instance, if one were to put the CEdipus of 
 Sophocles into as many verses as the Liad, [it would 
 
 6- be less pleasing]. Again, the imitation of the epopee 
 has less unity [than tragic imitation] ; of which this 
 is an indication, that from any kind of [epic] imita- 
 tion many tragedies may be produced. Hence, if he 
 who writes an epic poem should choose a fable per- 
 fectly one, the poem would necessarily either appear 
 short, as if curtailed, or if it should be accompanied 
 with length of metre, it would seem to be languidV 
 But if he should compose one fable from many fables, 
 I mean, if the poem should consist of many actions, 
 it would not possess unity. Thus, t^e Iliad and 
 Odyssey contain many such parts, which of them- 
 selves possess magnitude, though these poems are 
 composed, as much as possible, in the most excellent 
 
 * Taylor has gone fearfully astray in iTis version, " for not 
 imitating free women" ! The negative particle belongs to the 
 adjective. Twining observes : " as no actresses were admitted 
 on the Greek stage, their capital actors must freq^uently have 
 appeared in female parts, such as Electra, Iphigenia, Medea, 
 etc. This is sufficiently proved by many passages of ancient 
 authors; and among others, by a remarkable story of Polua, 
 an eininent Greek Tragic actor, told by Aulm Gellius." 
 
 5 ijdapij^ milk-and-waterish. 
 
CHAP. XXVI.] POETIC. 473 
 
 manner, and are most eminently the imitation of one 
 action. If, therefore, tragedy excels in all these 7. 
 particulars, and besides this, in the work of art, (for / 
 neither tragic nor epic imitation ought to produce a j 
 casual pleasure, but that which has been stated,) it j 
 is evident that it wiU be more excellent than the 
 epopee, in consequence of attaining its end in a 
 greater degree. And thus much concerning tragedy, 8. 
 and the epopee, as to themselves, their species, and 
 their parts, their number, and their difference, what 
 the causes are of their being good or bad, and also 
 concerning the objections which may be made to 
 them, and the solutions of the objections. 
 
 QUESTIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 AEISTOTLE'S POETIC. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Explain Aristotle's notion of imitation.- 
 To what different arts does it apply ? 
 In what manner do these themselves differ ? 
 How do you prove that Poetry is an art ? 
 In what does the poet agree with, in what differ from, the 
 historian ? 
 
 What does Aristotle say on the subject of metre ? 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 What are the objects of (dramatic) imitation, and what in- 
 ference respecting moral character is thence derived ? 
 
 What parallel does Aristotle draw between the conduct of 
 painters and poets in this respect ? 
 
 How also do tragedy and comedy differ ? 
 2 I 2 
 
474 QUESTIONS ON 
 
 CHA;^. III. ) \r^r-'-' ,^,.--' 
 Explain the three modes of imitation. ; ""yt-^-^ 
 State the traditional derivaltions of ttagedy and comedy. 
 Are they to be regarded as genuine ? 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Give Aristotle's views on the physical and sensitive causes 
 of poetry. 
 
 How did men's dispositions actuate their choice of subject 
 and metre ? 
 
 Were all Homer's poems of a grave cast ? 
 
 What analogy do his works respectively bear to tragedy 
 and comedy ? 
 
 What changes took place in the different styles ? 
 
 Trace the progress of tragedy from its earliest elements, 
 and explain the respective improvements made by ^schylus 
 and Sophocles. 
 
 What does Aristotle say on the natural affinity of metres 
 to ordinary life ? 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 With what restrictions are we to regard comedy as fxifiriatg 
 (pavXoTtpwv ? 
 
 Define to ytkoiov. 
 
 Are the changes through which comedy has passed as well 
 known as those of tragedy, and what appears to have been the 
 reason ? 
 
 What do you read of Epicharmus, Phormis, and Crates ? 
 
 Trace the analogy between the epopee and tragedy. 
 
 ' CHAP. VI. 
 
 Define tragedy, fieXoiroda, Xi£,ig, rhythm, harmony, and oi//ic. 
 ^ Enumerate the parts of tragedy that constitute its quality. 
 What remark does Aristotle make respecting the manners 
 of modern tragedies ? ,■ , '/i^^m ■ ' •'■',.- 
 
 Whkt parts of tragedy convey most delight ? 
 What fault is usually committed ? ' , : j: 
 
 Define havoia. i \ 
 
 CHAP. vn. ^-^ 
 
 Define a poetic whole, and its parts.'' "' ' '^- 
 
ARISTOTLE'S POETIC. ,-, . - 475 
 
 How is beauty concerned therein? •' '^ »"- ' ■ - ' , , 
 What limits does Aristotle set to the length of tragedy ? 
 
 CHAP. VIII. ' 
 
 Define fable. 
 
 What errors in construction do poets now commit ? ' ,- ; ■ 
 What events are the best to select ? ' ' '"• 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Should a poet narrate real events ? if not, what kind are 
 best suited ? 
 
 But may not real and probable events sometimes coincide ? 
 
 Define poetical probability. 
 
 What is the superiority of Poetry over history ? 
 
 Define universal. 
 
 What are the subjects most popular in tragedy ? 
 
 Of what must the poet be a contriver Ft-' ^^ -'- -^ 
 
 Which fables and simple actions are worst ? - ^ ' 
 
 Define them. 
 
 What kind of perfect actions must be imitated ia tragedy ? 
 
 Give an example of accidents seeming to proceed from 
 design. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 Define a simple action, r ' ; - v-Aj' 
 
 CHAP. XI. (^ 
 
 Define revolution and discovery, and give soie examples. 
 
 CHAP. XII., : : :' ; ; a!-' 
 
 Give an account of pathos. ^' ' ^ j ■. , . 
 
 Describe the parts of a tragedy according to its quantity. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Give some examples of the best modes of exciting pity 
 and terror, and compare their respective merits. 
 What character does Aristotle give of Euripides ? 
 Is this remark meant to apply to his Poetry as a whole ? 
 What kind of tragedy is most popular ? 
 Through what reason ? 
 
476 QUESTIONS ON 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 Can terror and pity be excited by stage appointments ? 
 Is it well to depend upon this means ? 
 Why not? 
 
 What actions are truly pitiable, and why ? 
 Give different instances. 
 
 ^■^■' y^^ CHAP. XV. 
 
 ^^ What are the four requisites of manners ? 
 V* Give some examples, 
 jj How ought the Xvacig of fables to arise ? 
 
 Where should art aim at matters extraneous to the drama ? 
 ••.-' Whom should we imitate, and how? 
 
 Does Aristotle make reference here to any other treatise? 
 
 CHAP. XVI. *^*C^xJK* ■ ' 
 
 Give some examples of different recognitions. v>A/\^*'^ iJi/0\ 
 Which does Aristotle consider the best ? >|J''*^^ 
 
 » CHAP. XVII. 
 
 How will the poet be best enabled to realize the objects or 
 actions he imitates? !-: ■..' - ' - »- |-«-^^ 
 
 Who are best capable of persuading, and what inference do 
 you thence derive respecting the character of a poet ? 
 
 What plan should be adopted in setting about a subject? *■■ 
 
 What follows? i -vi <...:.=-:; £■,.■"•-•■ ---*■:,-. , •• '' ' 
 
 Give Aristotle's example from Euripides. 
 
 What do you mean by poetic madness ? 
 
 What is the character of episodes in epic and tragic Poetry 
 respectively ? 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. ' 
 
 Explain the Sitrtg and Xitris- 
 Give some illustrations. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 What do you read concerning XeJis and Siavoia ? ' 
 What knowledge properly belongs to the poet ? 
 How did Protagoras accuse Homer ? 
 Was it justly ? 
 
ARISTOTLE'S POETIC. 477 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 Give an accouiit of the parts of speech. 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 Explain and illustrate the diflFerent kinds of words, and 
 collect what has been said in the Rhetoric on the same subject. 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 What are the virtues of diction ? 
 How are they respectively obtained ? 
 Quote some of the illustrations. 
 Does this chapter appear to be genuine ? 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 What are the requisites of narrative Poetry ? 
 
 In what does its form differ from that of history ? 
 
 Illustrate this by an example. 
 
 What was Homer's conduct in respect to episodes ? 
 
 What do you know of the Cyprica, the Little Iliad ? 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 Describe the forms of epopee, and their similarity to those 
 of tragedy. 
 
 Collect all that Aristotle says of Homer's excellence in the 
 diflFerent departments of poetry. 
 
 What do you read of the heroic metre ? 
 
 Explain Aristotle's views respecting possibility and. pro- 
 bability. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 Give a few specimens of the answering critical objections. 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 Compare the respective merits of epic and tragic Poetry. 
 
ANALYSIS 
 
 or 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETIC, 
 
 WITH THE ORIGINAL DEFINITIONS* 
 
 I. — 1. On Poetry in general, its species and parts. 
 
 2. Now, all Poetry is an imitation, as also flute and cithern- 
 playing, but they differ either in the means, the objects, or the 
 manner of their imitation. 
 
 6. Epopee imitates fiovov rolg Xoyoig \pi.\oie fj roig fiirpoii, 
 either simple or mixed. 
 
 7. But custom has falsely connected the name of poet with 
 the metre only, and not with their manner of imitation, as is 
 shown in the case of Empedocles and Chseremon. 
 
 10. Dithyrambs, nomes, tragedy, and comedy employ all 
 the means of imitation, but some do so all together, others 
 separately. 
 
 II. — 1. But since actions are the objects of imitation, the 
 characters must be bad or good, Kaid<} yap Kat apery to. 7)61) 
 iiaipipovm iravTtQ ; and hence men must be imitated either as 
 they are, or under a more exalted or more contemptible view, 
 as in the respective paintings of Dionysius, Polygnotus, and 
 Pauson. The same thing holds good in other arts, and in 
 Poetry, as is shown by Cleophon, Homer, and Hegemon re- 
 spectively. 
 
 4. And hence is the difference of tragedy and comedy, ^ 
 fxlv yap ^Ei'pouc, f/ Se /SeXn'ouc fiifiCia&ai (iovXerai twv vvv. 
 
 III. — 1. The third difference is as to the manner of imi- 
 tation. For the poet may imitate the same object, and by the 
 same means, but he may do so either, i. in narrative, i. e. by 
 
 * As I follow the text of Rltter, no analysis will of course be made of 
 such passages as are satisfactorily proved, by this scholar, to be spurious, 
 especially when such passages are but an analysis of what has been 
 already said in the Rhetoric. 
 
ARISTOTLE'S POETIC. 479 
 
 personatiiig other characters, or in his own person, ii. Or he 
 may represent TravTai; wc Trparrovrac koX kvtpyovvra^. 
 
 2. Since, then, there are three differences of imitation (t'v 
 oIq re Kol a. irai &q), Sophocles agrees with Homer, because 
 both imitate roie awovlaiove, but with Aristophanes, 6Vi rove 
 TrparrovT-ag. [Hence the Dorians lay an etymological claim to 
 the invention of the Drama and Comedy, tpafiara, on fiifiovv- 
 rai Spwvrae, icu/i^Soi, r^ Kara Koipae Trkavrf aniiai^ojitvoL Ik tov 
 aurEMj.] 
 
 IV. Two natural causes of Poetry, i. To imitate is the 
 peculiar faculty and pleasure of man, as is evident from his 
 taste for images, pictures, etc., the resemblance even of the 
 worst objects causing satisfaction. And this results from the 
 pleasure felt in learning and forming conclusions. 
 
 6. n. Moreover, rhythm and harmony are equally natural 
 to us, and to. jxirpa fiopia tuiv pvOfiuiv kari. 
 
 Poetry, therefore, gradually arose from the combined ex- 
 ertions of OL ^tfirjTlKOt icat 01 jiETpiKoi. 
 
 7. And of these men ol aefivortpoi tciq KoXag e/xifiovvTo jrpaj- 
 Ei£ Kal Tae TUIV TOWvTiiiv, 01 ?£ EireXt'oTEpoi tUq t(ov ipavXuv, the 
 one writing hymns and encomia, the others satires, of which 
 Homer's Margites was the earliest known. 
 
 8. Iambic was the fit metre for vituperation. But Homer, 
 by substituting to ytKo\ov for i/^oyoc, suggested comedy, for 
 his Margites has the same relation to comedy as the Iliad to 
 tragedy. 10. And the heroic and vituperative poets respec- 
 tively became Tpayii}hiZdaKaKoi and KwjiiwSoTrotot. 
 
 11. Tragedy and comedy were at first avToaytiiaaTiKai, the 
 one resulting amo rCJv l^ap)(ovTij>v tov SiBvpafijiov, but the other 
 aire Twv TO. (paWiica. ; they then gradually increased, as im- 
 provements presented themselves. 
 
 13. ^schylus added a second actor, 'and gave the pre-emi- 
 nence to the dialogue (see, however, the note). Sophocles 
 added a third, and introduced scenic decoration. While 
 tragedy remained in its simple, satyric state, the Trochaic 
 metre was employed ; but, on its improvement, the Iambic, 
 as being the most naturally adapted to every-day discourse. 
 The Trochaic Poetry was aarvpucri koX opx^TiKUTepfj, but ro 
 iafifiiLOV fia\i(TTa Xsktikov twv fiirpiav. 
 
 15. Episodes were also multiplied, and the other parts im- 
 proved. 
 
480 ANALYSIS OF 
 
 V. — 1. K(i)juft)Si'a kiTTt fiifirjmc (pavXoripwv, but not caret ira.-. 
 aav kadav, but to yekdiov, which is a part tov aio-p^pou. For 
 yeXoiov is defined afiaprriixa tl /cat ala)(Os avwSvvov Kal ov 
 <j>dapTLK6v. 
 
 2. The progress of comedy, from its being for a long time 
 unpopular, is unknown, but its poets are known from the time 
 when it began to possess any form. 
 
 3. The inventor of masks, dialogues, and an increased num- 
 ber of actors is likewise unknown. But Epicharmus and 
 Phormis of Sicily first invented comic fables, but Crates was 
 the first Athenian who began afifievoe rije lafipiiajg Idiof 
 KadoKov TToulv Xoyove cat juifloue, to introduce dialogues and 
 plots of a regular character. 
 
 4. Tragic Poetry and epic agree in imitating roue atrov- 
 daiovc, but epic differs from it r^ to fxirpov aTrXovv tx^"' '''" 
 dTrayyEXta)/ etvai, and also r^ jxtikei. For epopee is ddptoroc 
 r^ Xpova, but tragedy vtto fxiav TrcploSov »;\iou. But at first 
 there was no such restriction. 
 
 5. As all the parts of epic Poetry are found in tragic, 
 (but not vice versa,) a judge of the former will be a judge of 
 the latter also. 
 
 VI. — 2. Tragedy is defined to be fil/^riaie npa^EWQ crTrovSaias 
 Kal rtXei'as, fiiyidog e^ovfrric, rjhvajiivo) \6y^, ^wpig tKcuxTOv tUv 
 tlhUv tv rote fiopioie SpQ)VTtov, Kai oil St' itrayyiXiaQ, dXXct 2i' 
 iXiov Kai ipoPov irtpaivovaa rrjv tGiv towvtwv iradriixaTuv Kadap- 
 aiv. And rfivofiivoQ Xoyoe is o iyjiiyv pvdfibv Kal apfioyiav Kal 
 fitXoe. But by x'^P's ''''^^ dSCJv, Aristotle means to Sia jiirptnv 
 ivia fiovov Tnpalvcadai, koI ttoXiv ertpa fta fiiXovg. 
 
 4. And since tragedy imitates action, the necessary parts 
 of it must be o r^s o^ewg koct/jioq, /^eXoTroiia, and Xi^iQ,=ii tSv 
 IxtTpiav avvBtaiQ. 
 
 5. And since action cannot exist but by 7idoQ and ^lavola, 
 which are its two causes, icat irara TavTag koI Tvyxo-vovai Kal 
 airOTvy^avovat vavTeg' tan Se Trje fiev irpal.eoie o fivOog fii)xr]i!it. 
 6. For he defines [ivOog to be fj avvOttrig tUv irpayfiaruv' and 
 ^dr), Kaff a Troiovg Tivag etvai tpa/xev Tovg TrpdrrovraC and Stdvoia, 
 EC oiTote Xt'yovrts aTroBeiKvvoviri Tt, rj Kal cnTO(j)aivovTai yvu)jjii]V- 
 
 7. Hence there are six parts of tragedy, as far as its quality 
 is concerned, fivdog, ijOr], Xi^ig, diavola, o\j/ig, lieXoiroua' olg jdv. 
 yap liifiOvvTai, Si/o /iipr) c(ttIv uig Se fiifioiiVTai, tv' a Se lujiovv- 
 Tai, Tpia. Kal izapa. raSra oiiSiy. 
 
ARISTOTLE'S POETIC. 481 
 
 9. The most important is ^ tUv Trpa-yfiaruv avaTaaiQ, for 
 tragedy imitates actions, not men, and manners only as far as 
 they are involved by actions. Hence action is the teXoc of 
 tragedy. 
 
 1 1 . For it may exist without manners, but cannot vpithout 
 action : the later authors are imperfect in manners. 
 
 12. Nor ■would a whole string of well mannered incidents 
 please so well as a regular plot. 
 
 13. And, moreover, to. fxiyiara olc t^vxaywyti rj rpaywcia, 
 Tov ftvdov fiipr] EOTtv, atre ■TrepnreTEtai ical avayvtopiauQ. And 
 men arrive at perfection in diction and manners, sooner than 
 in constructing plots. [The rest of this chapter is a repeti- 
 tion, and is inconsistent with Aristotle's own ideas in other 
 places. See Bitter.] 
 
 VII. — 2. From the previous definition, KCirai iifxiv rrjv 
 TpayuSiav rtXEiag Koi o\»)j Trpa^cwg elvai fiifirjinv kyovariQ ti 
 filyedoQ' for there may be o\ov firjSev i-j(ov fiiyedoQ. And oXov 
 is TO 'i-^ov ap'^rlv Kai yiiaov kcll TeXevrijv, 3. but ap^i), o avTC 
 fitv £s dvayKTiQ fii) fiET ctXXo kari fitT Iki'ivo S' 'irtpov irt'^vKEV 
 flvat 7/ yiveadat, and reXevTyj, TOvvavTiov, o avro fier ciXXo TTf- 
 ^vKtv tlvai, j) £$ dvdyKTie, y oi£ CTriroTroXu" fiera Se roOro aWo 
 ovSkv, and fiiaov, koX avro fitr liWo, Kai jiet ekcIvo CTtpov. To 
 these definitions the poet must conform. 
 
 4. Again, whatever is beautiful, must not only have a pro- 
 per arrangement of its parts, but must be of a proper magni- 
 tude, neither too large for its parts to be comprehended, nor 
 too small. 
 
 7. The proper fiiyedoQ of tragedy is iv 0(tu> Kara to lIkos, v 
 TO dvayicaiov i<pe^rJQ yiyvo/itvuiv, (rvfiPaivti tig ivTir)(iav in 
 SvtTTv^iag, rj ii, evTVj^iag elg SviTTV)(iav /leTafiaWtiv. 
 
 VIII. — 1. Midog is one, not iav irepl Iva ^, as the authors 
 of Heracleids, etc. have wrongly supposed, but because it is 
 the imitation of one entire action, complete in all its parts. 
 
 IX. — 1. Moreover it is not the poet's province to relate ra 
 yivofieva, but ola av yivoiTO, Kai r'a Zvvara. Kara to UKog, i) to 
 avayKoiov. For this is the proper difference between the 
 historian and poet, not the use of metre. 
 
 3. And poetry is more philosophical than history, because 
 it regards to. KadoXov, but history to Kad' eKaarov. 
 
 4. "EoTt Sc KadoXov fiev, Ttj irolu ret vo'i arra av/ijjaivn Xi- 
 ytiv, % irpcLTTeiv Kara to ehog, Jj to avayKoiov, ov aTOXo-K^Tai rj 
 
482 ANALYSIS OF 
 
 voiriaie dvdjuara IviTiQenivr]' to. le icad' eKaaTov, ri AXci/BidSijE 
 
 5. Hence comic writers use names of their own invention, 
 but tragedians twv ycvofxevbiv ovofuiTiiiv avrt'xovrat, at least one 
 or two in eact play. 
 
 8. But it is not necessary that a poet should confine him- 
 self to roue TrapaSeSofxiyove fj-vdove, but he should be 7roii)rijs 
 fxaXXov TWV jxv6ii)v, f; tGiv fiirpuv, inasmuch as he is 7rot7jri)e 
 Kara Tr/v jxifi-qaiV 9. fiifiEiTai dk tUq Trpd^eie ; even if he write 
 TCL ytvojxEva, he is no less a poet. 
 
 10. Of simple plots or actions the episodic are the worst. 
 And £7r£i(7oSiu)Sj;£ fxvdoQ is that, iv li to. iirEuroSia jutr' aXX?/Xa 
 ovr tiKoe, our' dvdyKr] elvai, and such are made by bad poets, 
 St' avrovf, but by good ones, Sia. rovg vTroKpirde. 
 
 12. And since o« judvor rtXetac eaA 7rpa^£o>e fj /lifiriats, dWit 
 Koi ^o/Sepwv Kal cXeuvwv, that which is wonderful must abo 
 have some appearance of cause, rather than of being diro tov 
 avTOfidrov koX TrjQ rv'xris, for even casual events are most won- 
 derful when they seem to be from design. 
 
 X. — 1. Plots, like actions, are either cnrXoi or ■jreTrXey/iivoi. 
 
 2. cnrXij Trpa^if, ^c yEVOfiEVT\q, HavEp dptarai, (Tvvcj(pvi Koi 
 fitdg, avEv VEpmETEiae rj dvayviapiajiov r; fiErajSaaie yivETaC but 
 TTEirkEyjiEvri, e^ ^e jxeto. dvayvii>pi(Tfiov, i\ VEptvETEiac, yj dfjupdiv, 
 t) jXETa^aaiQ Lari. 
 
 3. And these should be the necessary consequences of w^iat 
 has gone before, Sia^t'pet yap ttoXv ylvEcBai t&Se Sia. rah, ? 
 fj-ETd tASe. 
 
 XL — 1. 'EoTt Be TTipnTETEia fXEV fi lis rd kvavrlov tUv Trparro- 
 fiEvuiv fiETafioXi), Kara, to elkos, y dvayKoiov. 
 
 2. ' AvayvtopiaiQ Z' koTiv, &(TrTEp koX rovvojia (rt/juaiVei, t^ Ay* 
 volag Eig yuaiaiv |U£ra/3oXi), ?*; eIs (pikiav, f; Ej(dpav tUv ?rj)0£ 
 EVTV)^iav rj ZvBTvylav upiaixivwv. KaXXtcTrfSE dvayviipung, Stuv 
 dfia ■jTEpLirETEiai yivwvTai. 
 
 3. There are also others, but the above is best, as pro- 
 ducing eKeov f( (popov. 
 
 5. And since discoveries are relative, they are sometimes 
 of one, sometimes of both the persons. 
 
 XII. [ Of doubtful authority. The following, however, are 
 the definitions of the parts of quantity. 1. TrpdXoyos, juepoc 
 ciXov TpayifZiaq to irpb xopou TrapdSou. 2. E?r£to'd8(OV, ^£poc oKov 
 TpaytfliaQ, to jjetu^v o\wv ■)(ppiKwv fxiXiiv. 3. tJoSofi, fiifot 
 
ARISTOTLE'S POETIC. 483 
 
 oXov rpaywSi'ac, juefl' o ouk tan xopov /i£\os. 4. But of the 
 chorus, vapoSos, f] ■Jrpwrri Xe^ig okov x"!"""- And orao-i/iov, 
 ftcXoe X"P°^! '■0 av£ii dva-TraitTTOv Kal Tpo\aiov. 5. KOfifiog, dpij- 
 VOQ Koivoe xopou Kal diru (T/cr/v^c.] 
 
 ^TTT . — 2. The poet should aim at a plot that is TreirXeyfiivri, 
 and (j)ofiEpwv koI kXeeivQv fi.ifir)riKr]. He should not represent 
 roue ktrieiKelQ changing from happiness to misery, ou yap fojie- 
 pov, ovSe eXtftvoi' ToiiTo, dXXa /xiapov icrrtv, nor yet the con- 
 trary, for the fall of the wicked does not excite pity or fear, 
 but only ro <j)iXdvdp(jiTov. 
 
 3. The best subject for tragedy is 6 [irire aptri) Siafipwu, cai 
 ctKatoavvri, firire Bid Kadav Kal iJ.o\Qrjpiav fitrajidXXwv tig ti)v 
 ovarvxto.v, aXkh Zi afiapriav rivd. twv kv [itydXr\ SoKrj ovtwv Kal 
 
 4. Hence dvdyKri dpa Tov koXuiq 't-^ovra fjivdov curXovv elyai 
 fiaXXov rj onrXovv, licnrep tiveq (paai, Kal fierajidXXiiv ovk eli; 
 EVTv\iav IK dvarvxiae, dXXci TovvavTiov e^ svTvxiag ug Suoru- 
 Xia>', fifi Sid jXO\Qripiav, dXXd Si ajxapriav fieydXrjv, rj o'lov e'lprj- 
 rai, 1] jSeXriovoe fiaXXov ?/ x^'P"''"?- 5. Thus the plots are 
 confined to the adventures of a few families. 
 
 6. Euripides, from his plots ending unhappily, is unduly 
 blamed. 
 
 7. But a happy end 'pleases the weak feelings of the spec- 
 tators, as also does the Sm-Xij aiiaTamg, where the play ends in 
 a contrary result to the good and bad. 
 
 8. But this is better suited to comedy. 
 
 XIV. — 1. Scenic decoration may excite terror and pity, 
 but they should rather arise ii, avrfjc Tfjc avaraaeoie tS>v 
 vpayficiTwv, which is far better, and more suitable to the 
 poet's art. 
 
 2. And o^ie rather produces to rtparSSie. 
 
 4. Now, terrible actions must be either between friends, 
 enemies, or persons indifferent. But if an enemy kill an 
 enemy, ovSev IXecivov, as also with indifferent persons. But 
 it is between friends and relations that such events become 
 piteous. 
 
 5. Now, we must not essentially alter the received subjects 
 of tragedy, but we must invent new ones, and use the old 
 judiciously. 
 
 6. Now, this may be done in the following ways : 1. tiSorac 
 Kal yiyvaxTKOVTag, as Medea. 2. dyvoovvTag ro Seivov, dd 
 
#4 ANALYSIS OF 
 
 vffTtpov dvayvwpiaat rriv (jiiXiav, as CEdipus. 3. roy /liX- 
 Xovra trotelv ti ratv dvr]KiaTii>v ^l ayvoiav^ avayvwpltrat Trplv 
 
 7. The worst way is ytvoxr/covra fieWrjirai, koI fif) Tpa^ai, 
 for it is aTraflfe. BtXriov St to dyvoovvra fikv irpd^ai, Trpa^avra 
 Se dvayviapiaai. to, te yap jiiapov ov irpoaiaTi, Koi JJ avayvii- 
 piaiQ iKirXrjKTiKov. Kparwrov Se to TEXevrdiov, as in the Iphi- 
 genia in Tauris. 
 
 11. Hence tragedy is confined to a few families, oo-aic ra 
 ToiaiiTa ffv/xlUPriKe irddr). 
 
 XV. Four requisites of ra ijdr]. 1. ottwq XPW'O- y- Uci is 
 ■//dog fj-ev, iav, &<T7r£p k\i-)(drj, iroiji iliavepav 6 Xoyoe, f) ^ xpaJiE 
 Trpoaiptaiv riva' (jtavXov fxkv, thv ipavXr]v' yf^priarbv Se, iav 
 ■)(priiTTriv. ioTi Ze Lv EKaara yivEi. 
 
 2. ra apuoTTOVTa. 
 
 3. TO O/J-OWV. 
 
 4. TO ofxaXov. 
 
 6. Furthermore, ■xprj kui ev to~iq tiQeaiv, wairEp Kat iv rij tUv 
 irpayfiaTWV avnTadEi, dfi S^rfTElv, ^ to dvayKoiov, rj to eIkoq. 7. 
 And hence the development of a plot should arise out of the 
 plot itself, not out of the machinery, which should he confined 
 to Ta k'Jw Tov SpdfiaTOQ, things happening before or after the 
 time of action. And aXoyov iitiZev tlvai kv to~i£ irpayfiaatv, 
 but if so, ejd) TTJe TpaywSiae. 
 
 8. Like good painters, we must improve upon the original 
 we imitate. 
 
 XVI. \_Doubtful. The four kinds of discovery are, 1. ^ 
 Sid Tuiv orifXEiwr, and these are either avjjfvTo, or eTri'/cnjra, 
 which are the worst. 2. al rETroiTj/itVat vtto tov ttoititov, also 
 oiiK S.TEX^'Oi- 3. Sid fivrjfirie. 4. ek (TvXXoytirixov. 
 
 8. But the best is )"; k^ aiirwv tSiv Trpayfidrtov, Trje EK7TXr]£,c(j)i 
 yiyvo/jtEvrjs Si EiKOTuiv. Next to it, ij ek (TvXkoyiafiov.'] 
 
 XVII. — 1. The poet should put himself as much as possi- 
 ble in the place of a spectator. 
 
 2. And of an actor likewise, for he wiU best express agita- 
 tion who feels it, Si o kvtpvovQ ri noirjTiKrj eotiv f] fiaviKov. 
 
 3. He should first draw out a general sketch of the subject, 
 then add the episodes, taking care that they belong properly 
 to the subject. They are short in tragedy, but serve to 
 lengthen out an epic poem. 
 
 XVIII. [^Doubtful. Every tragedy consists of two parts : 
 
ARISTOTLE'S POETIC. 483 
 
 1^ oetrte, ?^ ttTr' dpy(fjs fii'xpi tovtov tov fiipovQ o eo-j^artii' iurty, 
 £4 oil fjerapaivci lig eirvx'av. 
 
 2. \vaie, j; ciTro TrJQ dpxve rrje fierapamae f f'xP' "^""S. 
 Four kinds of tragedy : 1. TrtizXiyfiivr], tiq to okov iarl irept- 
 
 fftrtta Kai avayvwpicrtc. 2. TcadrjriKri' oloy, o'l re A'iavrei, (cat 
 01 l^ioveg. 3. ydiKT]' mov, a! OfltoiriSte Kai b JlrjkzvQ. 4. o\ov, 
 n'l T£ ^dpciSec Kui Upo/jridevg, Kai oaa iv ^Sr], with all wMch the 
 poet should be more or less acquainted, for the public now 
 expect excellence in all the different kinds. 
 
 3. Tragedies are the same or different, not according to the 
 subject, but the deatg and Xving. Many poets complicate well, 
 but develops badly.J 
 
 4. We must be careful nij iroiCiv ewoTrouKov (i. e. vo\v- 
 [ivdov) aiiarrffia rpayojSiav. 
 
 7. Moreover, the chorus must be considered as one of the 
 persons of the drama, and be a part of the whole, not arbi- 
 trarily introduced. 
 
 XIX. The SLavoia has been treated of in the Rhetoric, and 
 includes to, te dwo^nKviivai, Kai to Xveiv, /cat to xcidri wapaaKtv- 
 a^Eiv' oloy, kXeov, jj (pojSoV) rj 6pyi}v, /cat oaa roiaura, /cat cVt 
 fxiyedoQ, /cat afiiKporriTa. The poet must therefore draw from 
 the same sources as the orator, except that in the drama 
 things must appear to be such avEv SiSaixKaXiae, Ta ie iv tij 
 Xoyio viro tov XiyovTOQ irapanKZval^(.aQai, /cat Trapo tov Xoyov 
 yiyvtrrdai. 
 
 4. The figures of speech concern the actor, rather than the 
 poet, mov Ti kvToXrj, /cat rl £u)()7, /cat Si^y7)(Ttc, /cat d-KEiXfj, Kai 
 £pwr)j(7ie, Kai dTZOKpLHiQ, /cat t'i ti aXXo towvtov. 
 
 XX. [This chapter is an useless scholium. The proper 
 divisions and definitions will be found in the Rhetoric] 
 
 XXI. — 1. A word is either airXovv, 6 fifl Ik a-qjiaivovTav 
 avyKELTai, or ZnrXovv, either e/c (jrjfiaivovToe /cat darjjiov, or tic 
 crrinaivovTwv. The following are the different kinds. 
 
 „ , T - -' 1 Sometimes the same word, 
 
 2. I. Kvpwv, u, xi^^ra. eKa<TToc. 1 .^ reference to different 
 
 3. U. yXu,TTav, J, erepou j ^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^,^_ 
 
 4. in. fxeracbopa, ovoiiaTog aXXorpiov i-n-ifopa, r) diro yivovQ 
 iwl dloQ, ■*; dicb eiZovQ tin. yivog' r\ dirb £t2ous £jri tliog, f/ KaTo. 
 TO dvdXoyov. 
 
 9. IV. TTETrofqfiirov, o oXwq firi KoXovjitvov utto tivii)v, avTog 
 TideTai TTOirjTrig. 
 
486 ANALYSIS OF 
 
 10. V. eireKTerafihov, iav (j>wvrievTi jmKpoTigi^ KtXPVI^^^<"'> V 
 
 YI. dipriptjfihov, av dipyprnj^ivov y n, f; ahrov, f; £/^/3£/3X>)/it'vov. 
 VII. i^jjXXay/jtVov, orav ro5 ovojuafojutVov, to /u£v KaraXeiTri;, 
 TO de Troii]. 
 
 [The remainder is both spurious and incorrect.] 
 XXn. — 1. The virtues of Xejis are, 
 
 <Ta(j()ij civai sai jxr] Ta-ncivrjv. 
 
 Ik tUv icvpi(i)v oyoi^drwv. and such will be fj roic ^EviKoit 
 
 y_pii>lii.vr], i. e. yXwTTaiQ, fitrafo- 
 paTg, Kol naai role •naph. to Kvpiov. 
 But too great a use of such words 
 will produce an enigma or bar- 
 barism, for the very notion of an 
 enigma is to XeyovTa vrndpyovra 
 ahyvara trvvd^pat, 
 4. Both effects are produced by a judicious use of at exek- 
 
 TaffEic KOL aTTOKoirai, Kal ilaXXayal twv ovofidrtiiv. 
 
 9. But a judicious use of metaphors is the greatest excel- 
 lence of all, for it cannot be derived from another, and is a sign 
 T^C £V(j>viac, TO yap tv fitTacjtepeiv, to ojuotov deupeiv eoTi. 
 
 10. ra ?(7rXa are best suited to dithyrambs. 
 ■yXwrrai, to heroic verse. 
 fiCTafopai, to Iambic. 
 
 But heroic verse admits of all these kinds. Iambic should 
 approach as much as possible to the diction of common life. 
 
 XXIII. In narrative and hexameter verse,' the story ought 
 to be dramatically constructed, as in tragedy, i. e. it should be 
 •Tiepl fiiav irpa^iv SKrjV Ka't Ttktiav, C')(ovtrav apj^^v Kal jiiaov rai 
 teXos, 'lv\ wa'jrep ZSiov tv oXov, voirj Trjv oiKtiav iiiovrjv, differing 
 from history, which treats of events of one time, not of one 
 action. 
 
 3. Hence the excellent management of Homer in not at- 
 tempting to bring the whole war into his poem, but only 
 taking one part, filling it out with episodes. 
 
 XXIV. The epic poem sbould also agree with the tragic 
 as to its kinds [simple or complicated, moral or disastrously 
 Its parts are also the same, except fieXovoita and 'ci\pi£, for it 
 must have nepmeTdai, avayvwpiatiQ, TtadrjjxaTa, Siavoiai, and 
 
ARISTOTLE'S POETIC. 487 
 
 Xe^te, suitably arranged, as in Homer, t] ^ev IXias, crnXovv Kal 
 •nadijTtKoV {] Si OSvaiTEia, •ai.'nXtyfiivov. iivayvwptaig yap StoXov 
 Kal ^6tK(';. wpO£ Se tovtois Xe^zi Kai Biavoiq. mavraQ u7r£p/3£/3\?;KE. 
 
 3. It also differs in length. 
 
 4. For it has the advantage of being extended by narrative 
 of many simultaneous actions, which increase the oyKOQ tov 
 •aoirifiaTog, and also by diiferent episodes. 
 
 5. Heroic is the established metre of narrative poetry, for it 
 is oTaaifiiyraTov /cat dyKuSfCTT-arov, but the Iambic and Trochaic 
 KivrjTiKa, TO fiev, 6p-)(r]aTiK6v, to Se, •spaKTiKov. 
 
 6. A mixture of these metres is absurd. 
 
 7. Like Homer, the poet should know when it is fitting for 
 him to speak in person. 
 
 8. The QavjiaoTov is necessary in tragedy, but in epopee 
 even to akoyov is admitted, which is most wonderful, Sia t'. 
 firi bpq.v tie tov irpaTTOVTa. 
 
 9. And Homer has chiefly taught other poets ^pevSij Xtytiv 
 lie Sei, which is by a ■napdKoyitrfiog on the part of the hearer. 
 
 10. And the poet should prefer ddivaTa koi tiKOTO, yuaXXov 
 t) SvvaTO. KOI diridava' tovq t£ \6yove fii^ avviaTairdai ix fiepCiy 
 uXdywv, aXKa fidXiaTa jxkv jxyfiiv ix^"' "Xoyoy" u St fii), k^(u 
 TOV fiv6evfj.aToe, as Qidipus' ignorance as to the manner of 
 Laius' death. 
 
 11. And the diction should be most studied in the idle 
 parts of the poem, where there are neither manners nor senti- 
 ment. For these latter are obscured by over-fine diction. 
 
 XXV. and XXVI. [ Very doubtful. As these two chap 
 ters are quite unintelligible, except in reference to the ex- 
 amples quoted, it is of little use to analyse them.] 
 
 THE END. 
 
INDEX 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S TREATISES 
 
 RHETOEIC AND THE POETIC. 
 
 Ability, a specific good, 41. 
 Abundant, the, better than the rare, 
 
 48. 
 Accent, objections to, removed, 467. 
 Accident, an element of the ap- 
 parent enthymem, 196. 
 Accomplices in guilt, to be feared, 
 
 122. 
 Accusation and defence, various 
 
 reasonings in, 67. 
 AchUles, anger of, 107. 
 Action, habitual, attended mth 
 
 pleasure, 76. 
 Actions, tragedy an imitation of, 
 
 418. 
 Actors, complaints respecting, 471. 
 Admiration, attended with pleasure, 
 
 76, 77. 
 Adulation, meaning of, explained, 
 
 128. 
 Adultery, legal definition of, 88, 89. 
 jEnesidemus, specious liberality of, 
 
 85. 
 ^sop, fables of, 166, 167. 
 Agatho, remark of, 1 63; lines from, 
 
 425. 
 Aged, see Old Age. 
 Ages, definition of, 1 50. 
 k'LTiov, definition of, 47, n. 
 'AXijAes, the subject matter of logic, 
 
 10, «. 
 AXaJii/, application of the word, 
 
 10, n. 
 
 2 K 2 
 
 Alcffius, saying of, 60. 
 
 " Alcmseon " of Astydamas, the 
 tragedy of, 434 et n. 
 
 Alliteration, instances of, 233. 
 
 Ambiguity, an element of apparent 
 enthymems, 192. 
 
 Ambitious, the, likely to feel indig- 
 nation, 144; disposed to envy, 
 145. 
 
 Amplification, necessity for, 65, 66. 
 
 and extenuation, observations 
 
 on, 201. 
 
 Amusements, attended with plea- 
 sure, 75. 
 
 Analogy, an element of the enthy- 
 mem, 186. 
 
 Androcles, the orator, 188. 
 
 Anger, feelings of, 3, 71 ; definition 
 of, 105; persons against whom 
 and by whom it is felt, ib. et 
 seq.; three species of, 106; how 
 allayed, 114. 
 
 and hatred, six points of com- 
 parison between, 120. 
 
 Anomalies, an element of the en- 
 thymem, 190. 
 
 Antimachus, precept of, 223. 
 
 Antithesis, of style, 232; the false 
 one, 234. 
 
 Appetite, impulse of the, 71 ; the ^ 
 desire of what is pleasant, 73; 
 irrational and rational, ib. 
 
 'Apxh, definition of, 47. 
 
490 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Areopagus, practice of the, 3. 
 Argos, peculiar law at, 93. 
 Arguing from cause to effect, an 
 
 element of the enthymem, 190. 
 Arguments, on the solution of, 197 
 
 et seq, 
 Aristippus, passage from, 184. 
 Aristocracy, form of government, 
 
 55. 
 Articles, one of the parts of diction, 
 
 449. 
 Arts, illustration from the, 4, n. 
 Auditors, feelings of the, 12; held 
 
 to be iirXoi, 15 ; three kinds of, 
 
 24; how to appease the, 115. 
 
 B. 
 
 Bacchic hymns, all the means of 
 imitation employed together by, 
 409, n. 
 
 Badges, honourable, 61. 
 
 Beauty, different according to dif- 
 ference of age, 36 ; of objects and 
 words, 213; of style, 234; mag- 
 nitude the constituent of, 421. 
 
 Benefactors, friendliness felt for, 
 117. 
 
 Benevolence, object of, 134. 
 
 Birth, high, qualities of, 34; cha- 
 racteristic disposition of, 156. 
 
 Body, excellencies of the, 36. 
 
 Brave, the, friendliness felt for, 117. 
 
 C. 
 
 Calippus the orator, 188. 
 
 Callistratus, his charge against 
 Melenopus, 92. 
 
 Cases, one of the parts of diction, 
 449. 
 
 Censure, attended with pleasure, 78. 
 
 Chance, definition of, 38; mankind 
 impelled by, 70 ; on the circum- 
 stances of, 426. 
 
 Character, goodness of, 35 ; a spe- 
 cific good, 41 ; attended with 
 pleasure, 75 ; men of, are some- 
 times impelled to commit injus- 
 tice, 82; comparison of, to be 
 made, 66; what constitutes, 418. 
 
 Charemon, saying of, 191. 
 
 Xtipit, definition of, 133. 
 
 Xtiiiamci, meaning of, 441, n. 
 
 Chorus, a part of tragedy, 429 ; its 
 various divisions, ib. ; business of 
 the, 445 ; gradual extinction ot 
 the, ib., n. 
 
 Cicero, caution of, 16, n. 
 
 Cithern-playing, a favourite accom- 
 plishment of the Athenian youth, 
 407, n. 
 
 Comedy, an imitative art, 407; ori- 
 gin of, 413, 415 et seq. 
 
 Comeliness, diiferent according to 
 difference of age, 36. 
 
 Commendation, language of, 64, 65, 
 
 Commos, a part of the chorus, 429. 
 
 Community, injustice to the, .de- 
 fined, 87. 
 
 Compacts, definition of, 98. 
 
 Compulsion, the motive of human 
 action, 70. 
 
 Confidence, definition of, 125; how 
 created, ib.; persons who feel, 
 126. 
 
 Conjunctions, one of the parts of 
 diction, 449. 
 
 Conon, expression of, 191. 
 
 Consequents, an element of the en- 
 thymem, 185, 186. 
 
 Constraint, freedom from, pleasant, 
 73. 
 
 Contempt, a feeling contrary to 
 emulation, 149. 
 
 Contraries, an element of the en- 
 thymem, 178; consideration of, 
 468. 
 
 Contumely, definition of, 107. 
 
 Courage, quality of, .50; a consti- 
 tuent of virtue, 58. 
 
 Cowardice, illustration of, 128. 
 
 Crimes, on the various degrees of, 
 92 et seq. 
 
 Critics, objections of, answered, 
 463 et seq. 
 
 Custom, mankind impelled by, 71. 
 
 Dancing, an imitative art, 408 
 Danger, an object of fear, 122 
 
INDEX. 
 
 491 
 
 Decisions, legal, an element of the 
 euthymem, 184. 
 
 Declamation, often ridiculous when 
 read, 247. 
 
 Decoration, a certain part of tra- 
 gedy, 417 et n. 
 
 Deeds, one of the proofs necessary 
 in judicial oratory, 98 ; argu- 
 ments to be used for and against, 
 98, 99. 
 
 Definition, an element of the en- 
 thymem, 182. 
 
 Definitions of Aristotle's Rhetoric, 
 385—403 ; of his Poetic, 478— 
 487. 
 
 Delicacy of feeling, disquisition on, 
 1 27 ei seq. 
 
 Democracy, form of government, 55. 
 
 Depravity, the cause of injustice, 68. 
 
 AiafioXi], use of the "word, 3, n. 
 
 AiaXEKTiKijy explanation of, 23, ■«. 
 
 /itaXsKTiKos, explained, 10, n. 
 
 Dialectics, rhetoric an ofishoot of, 
 13. 
 
 Aiavota^ a certain part of ti'agedy, 
 417 et n. 
 
 Diction, an element of apparent en- 
 thymems, 192; definition of, 420 ; 
 on the use of, in tragedy, 446 ; on 
 the various parts of, 447 et seq.; 
 requisites of, 454 et seq. ; should 
 sometimes be laboured, 463 ; 
 many modifications of, 464 ; criti- 
 cal objections to, removed, 466 ; 
 custom of, 468. 
 
 Dilemma, an element of the enthy- 
 mem, 185. 
 
 AtoyuiTOKoXaKas, origin of the term, 
 211, n. 
 
 Discovery, explanation of, in fable, 
 427 ; feelings excited by the, 428 ; 
 on the different kinds of, 438 et 
 seq. 
 
 Discussions, minute, to be avoided, 
 28. 
 
 Disgraced, the, motives of, for com- 
 mitting injustice, 83. 
 
 Dissembling, the, to be feared, 123. 
 
 Dithyrambic poetry, an imitative 
 art, 407 ; all the means of imita- 
 tion employed together by, 409, «. 
 
 Dorieus, conqueror at the Olympic 
 games, 17. 
 
 Draco, the laws of, 191. 
 
 Drama, etymology of the, 411 ; on 
 its various" parts, 420 ; on exhibi- 
 tions in the, 421. 
 
 ' E. 
 
 Eia„, use of the term, 22, 23. 
 
 EIkos, definition of, 17 et seq.; en- 
 thymems deduced from, 17 ; so- 
 lution of, sometimes fallacious, 
 199 
 
 'EKwivTtiv, meaning of, 441, n. 
 
 Empedocles, saying of, 87. 
 
 Emulation, definition of, 147 ; na- 
 ture, objects, and feelings of, 147 
 et seq. 
 
 Encomium, language of, 64. 
 
 Enemies, motives of, for committing 
 injustice, 83, 84; objects of fear, 
 122. 
 
 Enthymems, the very body of proof, 
 3, 7 ; consequence of disregard- 
 ing, 5, n. ; a sort of syllogism, 7, 
 14 ; deduced from ei/coto and 
 <n);ii£ia, 17 et seq.; two different 
 sorts of, 22, 177 ; suited to judi- 
 cial oratory, 66 ; on the nature 
 and use of, 168, 174 et seq.; va- 
 rious elements of, 178 et seq. ; 
 how to be used in legal proof, 
 263, 265, 267. 
 
 , fallacious, the various ele- 
 ments of, 192 et seq. 
 
 Enumeration of parts, an element 
 of the enthymem, 185. 
 
 Envy, opposed to pity, 141 ; defini- 
 tion of, 141, 145 ; on the nature, 
 objects, and feelings of, 145 et 
 seq. 
 
 "Eiraii/os, definition of, 64. 
 
 Epic Poetry, similarity of tragedy 
 to, 416 ; observations on, 458 ; 
 different specifes and parts of, 459 
 et ^eq. ; merit of imitation in, as 
 compared with tragedy, 470 et 
 seq. 
 
 'ETTi^faipEKaKta, explanation of, 
 142, n. 
 
492 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Epideictic oratory, die subjects of, 
 57 ; the common point of, 64 ; 
 amplification suitable to, 66 ; 
 general nature of, 175. 
 
 style suited to -writing, 248. 
 
 'Eirnroiia, difficulty of defuiing, 
 408, «. 
 
 Episode, a part of tragedy, 429 ; 
 must he suitable to the plot, 442 ; 
 Homer's use of, 458. 
 
 Epithets, on the use of, 213, 215. 
 
 Epopee, an imitative art, 407, 408 ; 
 various parts of the, 459 ; its 
 power of extension, and its pro- 
 per metre, 460 ; necessity for the 
 ■wonderful in, 461. 
 
 Equals, likely to be envied, 146. 
 
 Equipoise of style, 233. 
 
 Equity, in law, explanation of, 89 
 et seg. 
 
 Equivocation, an element of the 
 enthymem, 191. 
 
 Errors, previously committed, an 
 element of the enthymem, ] 90. 
 
 "H9t) explained, 149, re. 
 
 Eubulus, adopts a saying of Plato,97. 
 
 Euphony, necessity of, 212. 
 
 Euripides, his reply to the Syra- 
 cusans, 131. 
 
 EuTjoaTTEXoi, remarks on, 152, n. 
 
 Exaggeration, an element of the ap- 
 parent enthymems, 194. 
 
 Examples, suited to deliberative 
 oratory, 66 ; different kinds of, 
 and their use, 165 et seq.; reason- 
 ings derived from, 199 ; solution 
 of, 200 ; best suited to proofs, 263. 
 
 Excellencies, personal, attended with 
 pleasure, 78. 
 
 Excess of good or evil, 46 et seq. 
 
 Exhorting, objects of, in oratory, 33. 
 
 Exode, a part of tragedy, 429. 
 
 Exordium, occurrence of the, 250 ; 
 on the nature and use of the, 251 
 et seq. 
 
 Expedient, the object of, proposed, 
 39; what is the higher degree of, 
 44. 
 
 Exports, necessary to be under- 
 stood by the orator, 31. 
 
 Extenuation, observations on, 201. 
 
 Fable, or Apologue, use of, by way 
 of example, 166 ; suited to the 
 deliberative orator, 167. 
 
 definition of, 418 ; revolutions 
 
 and discoveries of, the cause of 
 pleasure, 419; the soul of tra- 
 gedy, ib.; on the unity of, 422 
 et seq. ; on the simple and com- 
 plex, 426, 427 ; the various requi- 
 sites of, 427, 428; the simple 
 preferable to the two-fold, 431 ; 
 precepts respecting, 434; exam- 
 ple of, ib.; on the incidents of, 437. 
 
 Fact, questions of, to be left to the 
 judge, 5. 
 
 Fallacies of apparent enthymems, 
 192 et seg. 
 
 Fear, definition of, 121 ; on the na- 
 ture and objects of, 121 et seq.; 
 closely allied to pity, 124. 
 
 Feeling essential to the poet, 441. 
 
 Feelings of delicacy and shame, dis- 
 quisition on, 127 et seq. 
 
 Flattery attended with pleasure, 76. 
 
 Forgiving, the, friendliness felt for, 
 118. 
 
 Fortunate, the, dispositions and cha- 
 racteristics of, 159. 
 
 Fortune, definitions of, 38, 150. 
 
 Friendless, the, disposition of, for 
 committing injustice, 84. 
 
 Friendliness, definition of, 116; 
 those to whom we entertain the 
 feelings of, 116 et seq. 
 
 Friends, number and excellence of, 
 the difference defined, 38; mo- 
 tives of, for committing injustice, 
 83. 
 
 Friendship, attended with pleasure, 
 78; causes of, 116 et seq., 119: 
 three kinds of, 119. 
 
 G. 
 
 Genders, on the proper distinction 
 of, 221 ; remarks on, 454. 
 
 Generous, distinguished from noble, 
 156. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 493 
 
 Genins, higli, a special good, 41. 
 
 rXwTTd, use of, 209. 
 
 Good, to do and to receive, condu- 
 cive to pleasure, 77. 
 
 fortune, definition of, 38. 
 
 old age, definition of, 38. 
 
 qualities, apparent, to be re- 
 garded as real, 62. 
 
 . and expedient, the, proposi- 
 tions on the subjects of, 39 et 
 seq. ; what is the greater degree 
 of, 44 et seq. 
 
 Goods, internal and external, 34 ; 
 indisputable, 40 ; disputable, 41. 
 
 Gorgias, saying of, 265. 
 
 Government, reasons for under- 
 standing the different forms of, 
 54 et seq. ;- the four forms de- 
 fined, 55 ; ends of each, ib, ; the 
 orator should know them, 56. 
 
 Gratitude, on the feelings of, 133 
 et seq. ; the orator to invest the 
 audience with feelings of, 135. 
 
 Great and small, on the subject of, 
 165. 
 
 Greater, as compared with less, 46 
 et seq. 
 
 Grief for another's calamity is pity, 
 136, n. 
 
 Guilt, on the various degrees of, 92 
 et seq. 
 
 Gymnastic excellence described, 37. 
 
 H. 
 
 Habits, definition of, 150. 
 Happiness, the object of mankind, 
 
 33 ; four definitions of, ib. ; 
 
 opinion of the schools on, ib., n. ; 
 
 a specific good, 40. 
 Harmony and rhythm,, originate 
 
 from imitation, 412. 
 Hatred, causes of, 120; six points 
 
 of comparison between anger and, 
 
 120. 
 Health, the excellency of the body, 
 
 36 ; a specific good, 41. 
 Hearers, see Auditors. 
 Hegesippus, consults the oracle, 184. 
 Hero, character of the, to be mode- 
 rately drawn, 431, 432. 
 
 Herodicus, expression of, 191. 
 
 Hippolochus, encomium passed on, 
 65. 
 
 History, how it differs from poetry, 
 and how it should be applied in, 
 423 et seq. 
 
 " Hobbes' Brief of the Art of Rhe- 
 toric," 275—376. 
 
 Homer, passage ftom, 143; epic 
 skill of, 422 ; genius of, 458, 
 463. 
 
 Honour, evidence of character, 35 ; 
 a specific good, 41 ; attended 
 with pleasure, 75. 
 
 men of, their motives for com- 
 mitting injustice, 83. 
 
 Hope, conducive to pleasure, 73. 
 
 Horror, distinct from pity, 139. 
 
 Hurt, explanation of, 88. 
 
 Husbandmen, friendliness felt for, 
 117. 
 
 Hyperbole, a sort of metaphor, 245. 
 
 Iambic metre, suitableness of, to 
 tragedy, 414 ; origin of, 415. 
 
 Ideas, rules for recognising, 441 . 
 
 Iliad and Odyssey, difference be- 
 tween the, 460. 
 
 Ill-will, feeling of, 3. 
 
 Images, natural delight in, 412. 
 
 Imitation, attended with pleasure, 
 77 ; the various objects of, in 
 poetryj.409, 410 ; difference in the 
 manner, 410, 411 ; the first natu- 
 ral taste for, in poetry, 412; har- 
 mony and' rhythm originate from, 
 412, 413; respective merits of 
 tragic and epic, 470 et seq. 
 
 Imitative arts, different species of, 
 407. 
 
 Imports, questions of, to be familiar 
 to the orator, 31. 
 
 Impossible, disquisition on the, 161 
 et seq. 
 
 Impudence, definition of, 127. 
 
 Imputations, topics for removing, 
 255 et seq. 
 
 Inconsistency, an element of the 
 en thy mem, 187. 
 
494 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Incontinence, the cause of injustice, 
 68 ; definition of, 82. 
 
 Incontinent, the, disposition of, to 
 commit injustice, 82. 
 
 Incredibility, an element of the en- 
 thymem, 188. 
 
 Indignation, on the nature, objects, 
 and feelings of, 140 et seq. 
 
 Indi-vidual, injustice to the, defined, 
 87. 
 
 Indolent, the, motives of, for com- 
 mitting injustice, 83. 
 
 Induction, rhetorical, 21 ; an ele- 
 ment of the enthymem, 183. 
 
 Inflections, an element of the en- 
 thymem derivable from, 1 79. 
 
 Injured, the, disposition of, for com- 
 mittmg injustice, 83, 85 ; ai-e ob- 
 jects of fear, 123. 
 
 Injury, definition of, 88. 
 
 Injustice, two causes of, 68; the 
 motives of, ih. ; "with what dispo- 
 sitions men commit it, 79 et seq. ; 
 various acts of, enumerated and 
 defined, 86 et seq, ; on the greater 
 degrees of, 92 et seq. ; an object 
 of fear, 122. 
 
 Innocent, the, objects of fear, 127; 
 sensible of shame, 130. 
 
 Insult, legal definition of, 88, 89. 
 
 Insulted virtue, an object of fear, 
 122. 
 
 Intemperance, illustration of, 128. 
 
 Interrogation, on the nature and use 
 of, 267 et seq. 
 
 Iphicrates, encomium on himself, 
 52, 63; passages from, 181, 182, 
 186. 
 
 Ismenias, the orator, 183. 
 
 Isocrates, passages from, 184, 185. 
 
 J. 
 
 Jason, a saying of, 85. 
 
 Jests, nature of, 241. 
 
 Judge, the.not to be biassed by appeal, 
 ing to the passions, 3 ; laws not to 
 be left to his discretion, 4 ; ques- 
 tions of fact to be left to him, 5 ; 
 does not always fulfil the charac- 
 ter, 6 ; necessity of investing him 
 
 with a favourable feeling, 103 e 
 seq. 
 Justice, a constituent of virtue, 58, 
 
 K. 
 
 KaXoj/, TO, defined, 57 ; the various 
 points of the, 59. 
 
 KoTTa/3os, amusement of the, 85, n. 
 
 K-piTi]^ Tou vofiov Kuvuiv, applica- 
 tion of the metaphor, 3, n, 
 
 Kiipia, use of, 209 et n. 
 
 Lacedaemonians, custom of wearing 
 the hair among the, 62. 
 
 Language, purity of, necessary, 
 219 et seq. 
 
 Laughter, attended with pleasure, 
 79. 
 
 Law, forbids irrelevant matter, 7; 
 the various objects of, 29, n. ; 
 questions of. 31 ; peculiar or uni- 
 versal, 67, 86 : Demosthenes' ex- 
 planation 6f, ib., n.; written and 
 unwritten, 89; on the violation 
 of, 93 ; how the orator is to adapt 
 it to his purpose, 94 ; one of the 
 proofs necessaiy in judicial ora- 
 tory, 94, 95 ; distinguished firom 
 deeds or compacts, 98. 
 
 Learning, attended with pleasure,??. 
 
 Legislation, questions of, 31 ; ac- 
 counts of travellers useful to, 32. 
 
 Leodamus, sayings of, 48, 96. 
 
 Letters, one of the parts of diction, 
 448. 
 
 Liberality, a constituent of virtue, 
 58. 
 
 Loorians, law of retaliation among 
 the, 53, n. 
 
 Logic, rhetoric the counterpart of, 
 1, 28 ; Zeno's illustration of, 2, 
 n.; how it differs from rhetoric, 
 10 ; d\TjeEs the subject matter 
 of, 10, n. 
 
 Logician, reasons why he may be 
 the best rhetorician, 7. 
 
 Ao'yos, explanation of, 14, n. 
 
 Love, criterion of, 74. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 495 
 
 M. 
 
 Magnanimity, a constituent of vir- 
 tue, 58. 
 
 Magnificence, a constituent of Tir- 
 tue, 59. 
 
 Magnitude, the constituent of beau- 
 ty, 421. 
 
 Manhood, dispositions and charac- 
 teristics of, 155 et seq. 
 
 MuvLKiiTtpa, remarks on, 157, n. 
 
 Mankind, characters of, 149. 
 
 Manners, definition of, 418, 419; 
 not the end of tragedy, 418 ; the 
 ■various requisites of, 435 et seq. 
 
 Manlius, the orator, 183. 
 
 Masks, the inrentors of, not known, 
 415. 
 
 Maxims, different kinds of, and 
 their use, 1 69 et seq. ; to be used 
 in the proof and narration, 264. 
 
 Meanness, illustration of, 128. 
 
 Melopceia, a certain part of tragedy, 
 417 etn., 420. 
 
 Memory, conducive to pleasure, 
 73, 74 ; on recognition by, 439. 
 
 " Menalippe the Wise," tragedy of, 
 438 etn. ^ 
 
 Mipos -TT/jos /itpos, explanation of, 
 21. 
 
 METa<popal, use of, 209. 
 
 Metaphors, on the nature and use 
 of, 210, 219; misuse of, 216; 
 productive of pleasure, 234; four- 
 fold, 236 ; various instances of, 
 239 ; produce personification, 
 240; on the different species of, 
 450; exemplifications of, 452; 
 means of employing them, 453, 
 456; critical objections to, an- 
 swered, 467. 
 
 Metre, difference of from rhythm, 
 412, B. 
 
 Metres, mixed, obscurity of, 461. 
 
 Monarchy, a form of government, 
 55. 
 
 Monstrous, the, not tragic, 433. 
 
 Moral excellence, necessary for the 
 orator, 104. 
 
 . sentiments, different kinds of. 
 
 their use and advantage, 169 et 
 
 seq. 
 Motives, an element of the enthy- 
 
 mem, 186, 188. 
 , of injustice, causes of the, 68 
 
 et seq. 
 
 N. 
 
 Narration, on the nature and use 
 of, 258 et seq.; to be made pa- 
 thetic and moral, 261 ; least used 
 in deliberative oratory, 262. 
 
 Narrow-minded, the, disposed to 
 envy, 145. 
 
 Natural logic, illustration of, 2, n. 
 
 Nature, mankind impelled by, 70 ; 
 conformity to, attended with plea- 
 sure, 77. 
 
 Necessity, acts of, painful, 73. 
 
 Noble, distinguished from generous, 
 156. 
 
 Nomes, a species of hymns to Apol- 
 lo, 409, n. 
 
 Nouns, one of the parts of diction, 
 449 ; the different species of, 450, 
 451, 453, 454. 
 
 Oaths, one of the proofs necessary 
 in judicial evidence, 100 ; their 
 fourfold division, 100 et seq. 
 
 Objections, fourfold, 198; of the 
 critics answered, 463 et seq. 
 
 Offspring, the excellence of a good, 
 34. 
 
 OiKtm, use of, 209. 
 
 Old Age, a specific good, 37 ; pas- 
 sions, habits, and characteristics 
 of, 152 et seq. 
 
 Oligarchy, form of government, 55. 
 
 Olympic victor, inscription of the, 
 52, 63. 
 
 Oration, three things proposed by 
 an, 24 ; three kinds of, ib. ; end 
 peculiar to each, 25 ; illustration 
 of, 26. 
 
 Orator, the object of the deliberative, 
 25 ; propositions necessary to, 
 26, 27, et seq. ; objects at which 
 
496 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 he should aim in exhorting or 
 dissuading, 33 et seq. ; should 
 advise on " the means," 39; 
 should understand the different 
 forms of government, 54 et seq.; 
 virtue and vice the objects of, 57 
 et seq. ; the number and nature 
 of the sources out of which he 
 must construct his reasonings, 
 67 et seq. ; how he is to adapt 
 the laws to his purpose, 94 ; three 
 requisites necessary for his gain- 
 ing belief, (^poytjo-t?, dosrii, and 
 eSvoia, 104 ; by exciting envy he 
 will remove pity, 147 ; fables 
 suited to, 167. 
 Oratory, strictures on previous sys- 
 tems of, 2 ; judicial preferred to 
 deliberative, 5 ; five occasions 
 for the employment of, 29 ; war 
 and peace, .30 ; demonstrative 
 and deliberative, 64 ; judicial, 67 ; 
 five proofs peculiar to, 94 ; some 
 topics common to all the species 
 of, 160; deliberative more difii- 
 cult than judicial, 264. 
 
 Pffian, use of the, 227, 228. 
 
 Painter, objects of the, 423, «. 
 
 Painting, attended with pleasure, 
 77 ; objects of imitation in, 409 ; 
 comparisons with, necessary, 
 437. 
 
 Pamphilus, the orator, 188. 
 
 Panegyric, before whom pronounc- 
 ed to be considered, 63 ; to 
 show that the object of, has acted 
 on principle, 64. 
 
 Paradoxes, nature of, 241. 
 
 Parodos, a part of the chorus, 429. 
 
 Particles, on the proper use of, 
 220. 
 
 Passions, on undue appeals to the, 3. 
 
 of the young, disquisition on 
 
 the, 149 et seq. 
 
 Pathos, necessity of, in fable, 428. 
 
 Peculiar, use of the term, 22. 
 
 Pericles, saying of, 52 ; simile of, 
 218. 
 
 Periods, on the management of, 
 231 ; style of, 232. 
 
 Perjury, definition of, 102. 
 
 Peroration, not always necessary, 
 250 ; on the nature and use of 
 the, 270, 271. 
 
 Personification, on the character, 
 istios and advantages of, 239 et 
 seq. 
 
 Perspicuity, advantages of, 207, n. 
 
 Persuasion, how effected, 12 ; ob- 
 ject of, in oratory, 33 ; means of, 
 56. 
 
 Philip of Macedon, argument of 
 Iphicrates against, 181. 
 
 Philocrates, anecdote of, 114. 
 
 <^opTiKdi>, explained, 204, n. 
 
 Photagoras, sophistry of, 197. 
 
 0p6vtp.oi, oL, explanation of, 130, n. 
 
 rtiuTeis, defined, 11, 12, n.; subdi- 
 vision of, 14; remarks on the 
 term, 94, n. 
 
 n/o-Tis, uncertain signification of, 
 2, n. ; neglect of the, 3. 
 
 ey Tol 7jd£i Tov Xe'yoyTOS, dis- 
 cussion of the, 103. 
 
 Pity, feeling of, 3 ; closely allied to 
 fear, 124; definition of, 136 ; dis- 
 quisition on, 136 et seq. ; horror 
 distinct from, 139 ; indignation 
 and envy opposed to, 140, 141 ; 
 leading principles of, 154; how 
 produced, 432 et seq. 
 
 Placability, persons susceptible of, 
 and the occasions on which it is 
 felt, 112 et seq.; definition of, 
 112. 
 
 Places, use of the expression, 22. 
 
 Plato, saying of, 97. 
 
 Pleader, business of a, 3, 6. 
 
 Pleasure, a specific good, 40; mo- 
 tives comprehended in, 71 ; what 
 conduces to, 72; definition of, 
 ib.; the various sources which 
 contribute to, ib. et seq. 
 Plot, definition of a, 420; applica- 
 tion of unity to, 422 ; the poet's 
 object rather than the metre, 425; 
 episodic the worst, ib. ; essentials 
 for, in tragedy, 430 et seq. ; on 
 recognition in and discovery,' 438 
 
INDEX. 
 
 497 
 
 et seq. ; rales for realizing ideas, 
 441 ; general sketch of tone 
 formed, 442. 
 
 Poet, etymology of the name, 408. 
 
 Poetic, Aristotle's, Questions on, 
 473 — 477; Analysis of, with the 
 original Definitions, 478 — 487. 
 
 Poetry, attended with pleasure, 77 ; 
 an imitative art', 407 et seq. ; its 
 i n fluence and " different species 
 of, ib,; theyarious objects of imi- 
 tation, 409; difference of, accord- 
 ing to the manner of imitating, 
 410, 411 ; the causes and progress 
 of, 412 et seq.; how it differs 
 from history, and how historical 
 matter should to used in, 423 et 
 seq. ; different words suited to 
 each kind of, 456, 457 ; on the 
 Epic, 458 ; false reasonings re- 
 specting, 462. 
 
 Poets, means employed by different 
 kinds of, 409 ; should feel what 
 they write, 441. 
 
 nottjTTj':, definition of, 408, n. 
 
 Politics, rhetoric an offshoot of, 13. 
 
 Polus, expression of, 191. 
 
 Polycrates, the sophist, 195. 
 
 Possible and impossible, disquisition 
 on the, 161 et seq. 
 
 Poverty, a motive for committing 
 wrong, 82. 
 
 Power, attended with pleasure, 78; 
 dispositions and characteristics 
 of men in, 159. 
 
 Powerfol, the, disposition of, for 
 committing injustice, 80. 
 
 Praise and blame, from what con- 
 siderations derived, 57. 
 
 Prelude, explained, 251. 
 
 Probability, reasonings derived 
 from, 199 ; on the contingencies 
 of, 425, »., 437. 
 
 Prologue, explained, 251 ; a part of 
 tragedy, 429. 
 
 Proofs, on the nature of, and their 
 various sources, 262 et seq. ; pe- 
 culiar to judicial oratory, five in 
 number, 94. 
 
 Property, essentials of, 35. 
 
 Propositions necessary to the ora- 
 tor, 26, 27, et seq. 
 
 UpotrcjiaTOL, judicial witnesses, 96 
 
 Proverbs, one of the proofs neces- 
 sary in judicial oratory, 96 ; a 
 sort of metaphor, 245. 
 
 Provisions, a knowledge of imports 
 and exports of, necessary to the 
 judicial orator, 31. 
 
 Prudence, a constituent of virtue, 
 59 ; necessary for the orator, 104. 
 
 Punctuation, critical objections to, 
 answered, 467. 
 
 Puns, nature of, 242, 243. 
 
 Purity of language, necessity, of, 
 219 et seq. 
 
 Q. 
 
 Questions, on the nature and use of, 
 in legal proof, 267 et seq. 
 
 Reasoning, forms of, 22; derived 
 from four sources, 199 ; on recog- 
 nition by, 439. 
 
 Recognition, on the different kinds 
 of, in the development of plot, 
 438. 
 
 Refutation, an element of the en- 
 thymem, 189 ; more in repute 
 than the confirmative, 191. 
 
 enthymems to be preferred, 
 
 265. 
 
 Relatives, an element of the enthy- 
 mem, 179. 
 
 Reprehension, when correct, 470. 
 
 'PjjTopEta, explanation of, 14, n. 
 
 Revenge, is honourable, 61 ; so- 
 phistry of, ib., n. ; attended with 
 pleasure, 75. 
 
 Revolution, definition of, in fable, 
 427 ; feelings excited by the, 428. 
 
 Rhetoric, the counterpart of logic, 
 1, 28 ; Plato's opinion of, ib. ; 
 can be reduced to a system, 2 ; 
 strictures of previous systems, ih.; 
 Zeno's illustration of, i6., ■«. ; en- 
 thymem the proof of, 7 ; utility 
 of, ib., 8 ; objections against the 
 
493 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 abuse of, answered, 9 ; end and 
 duty of, ib. ; how it differs from 
 logic, 10 ; definition of, 11 et 
 seq. ; an offshoot of dialectics and 
 politics, 13, 29 ; three kinds of, 
 24, 25 ; to be treated as a science, 
 29 ; on the various parts of, 203 
 et seq. ; its influence, 205 ; a dis- 
 tinct style appropriate to each 
 species of, 246 et seq. 
 
 Rhetoric, Aristotle's, " Analytical 
 Questions on," 347 — 3S4 ; " Ap- 
 pendix to the Analysis, containing 
 the original Definitions," 385 — 
 403. 
 
 " Hobbes' Brief of the Art of," 
 
 275—376. 
 
 Rhetorician, reasons why the logi- 
 cian may excel him, 7. 
 
 Rhythm, on the nature and varieties 
 of, 226 et seq. ; its difference 
 from metre, 412, n. 
 
 Rich, the, objects of fear, 126. 
 
 Ridicule, on the nature and use of, 
 267 et seq. 
 
 Rivals, objects of fear, 123 ; likely 
 to be envied, 146. 
 
 S. 
 
 Safeguard of the country, questions 
 respecting the, 31. 
 
 Sappho, quotation from, 60. 
 
 Satyric drama, origin of, 414, n. 
 
 Sx^/nara Xt'ftius, on the meaning 
 of, 446, 447, n. 
 
 Science, takes cognisance of its pe- 
 culiar truths, 49. 
 
 Sculpture, attended with pleasure, 
 77. 
 
 " Scylla," tragedy of, 434. 
 
 Selfishness, freedom from, honour- 
 able, 60. 
 
 SijiueIoi/, definition of, 17 ei seq.; 
 enthymems deduced from, 17; 
 reasonings derived from, 199. 
 
 Senses, the, an element of the en- 
 thymem, 183. 
 
 Sentences, one of the parts of dic- 
 tion, 450. 
 
 Sentiment, definition of, 418, 419 , 
 on the use of, in tragedy, 446. 
 
 Shame, definition of, 127 ; illustra- 
 tions of, 130 et seq. 
 
 Similes, on the nature and use of, 
 217 et seq.; instances of, 218; 
 effect of, 235 ; a sort of metaphor, 
 244. 
 
 Simonides, verses of, 43 ; epitaph 
 by, 63; iJoem of, noticed, 214. 
 
 Sincere, the, friendliness felt for, 
 119. 
 
 Socrates, saying of, 63 ; conclusive 
 reasoning of, 268. 
 
 SdXoiKoi, use of the word, 157, •«. 
 
 Solon, saying of, 96. 
 
 Solution, should arise from the fa- 
 ble, 437. 
 
 Soothsayers, judicial witnesses of 
 the future, 96. 
 
 So<^ii7T)'js explained, 10, n. 
 
 Sophists, character of, 10, 11 ; dis- 
 putations of the, 196. 
 
 Sophocles, sentiment of, 87 : saying 
 of, 92 ; passages from, 95, 191. 
 
 Sorrow, attended with pleasure, 75. 
 
 Speaking, different means of per- 
 suading by, 12; importance of 
 the manner of, 12, ».; various 
 styles of, 14. 
 
 Speaker, duties of the first and last, 
 266 ; character of the, how con- 
 veyed, 267. 
 
 Speech, three points in a, x/o-tk, 
 A-t'fis, and toJis, 203; three 
 things requisite, ^iy^dos^ dpftovia, 
 and piiS/ios, 204 ; delivery of a, 
 205 ; on the various parts of a, 
 249, 250. 
 
 Stasimon, a part of the chorus, 429. 
 
 Stature, excellencies of, 37 ; quali- 
 ties of, ib. 
 
 Stilbon, the orator, 183. 
 
 Strength, definition of, 37. 
 
 Style, excellence of, defined, 207; 
 disquisition on, ib. et seq. ; on 
 the frigidity of, 214 et seq. ; on 
 the purity of, 219 et seq.; general 
 rules for, 22), 225; on elevation 
 of, 222 et seq. ; what is the most 
 
INDEX. 
 
 499 
 
 becoming, 224 et seg. ; necessity 
 of rhythm, 226 ; the continuons, 
 229 ; the reflex, 230; manage- 
 ment of periods in, 232 ; on the 
 elegancies and heauties of, 234 
 et seq. ; the three requisites, 236 ; 
 a distinct one appropriate to each 
 kind of rhetoric, 246 et seq.; de- 
 liberative and judicial, 248. 
 
 Successful, the, likely to be en- 
 vied, 146. 
 
 Syllables, one of the parts of dic- 
 tion, 448. 
 
 Syllogism, definition of, 14. 
 
 Systems of oratory, strictures on, 2. 
 
 T. 
 
 Talented, the, motives of, for com- 
 mitting injustice, 83. 
 
 Tattlers, sensible of shame, 131. 
 
 TsK/jLvpiov, definition of, 20, 21 ; 
 reasonings derived from, 199, 
 200. 
 
 Temperance, a constituent of vir- 
 tue, 58. 
 
 Terrible, definition of the, 426. 
 
 Terror, how produced, 432 et seq. 
 
 Theft, legal definition of, 88, 89. 
 
 Themistocles, expression of, 96. 
 
 Theodectes the tragedian and ora- 
 tor, 180, 183, 185, 186, 187, 189. 
 
 Qopu^ovuTai, mistake in the sense 
 of, 15, n. 
 
 Time, an element of the enthymem, 
 183. 
 
 Topics, necessary for removing as- 
 persions, 255 et seq. 
 
 ToTToi, use of the word, 22. 
 
 Torture, one of the proofs necessary 
 in judicial oratory, 100. 
 
 Tragedy, an imitative art, 407 ; 
 origin of, 413 ; .lEschylus and 
 Sophocles improve it, 414 ; suit- 
 ableness of Iambic metre to, ib. ; 
 similarity of, to epic poetry, 416 ; 
 on the form and end of, ib. 
 et seq. ; definition of, ib. ; of 
 the six parts in, 418; fable the 
 soul of, 419; on the requisites 
 and length of action in, 420 et 
 
 seq. ; real names retained in, 424 ; 
 on the various parts of, the pro- 
 logue, episode, exode, and chorus, 
 428, 429; essentials for a plot, 
 430 et seq. ; a happy conclusion 
 preferred, 432 ; the proper plea- 
 sure to be derived from, 433 ; re- 
 quisites of manners in, 435 et 
 seq.; on complication and de- 
 velopment, 443 ; four species of, 
 443, 444 ; not to be made an epic 
 system, 444 ; on the diction and 
 sentiments of, 446 ; necessity 
 for the wonderful, 461 ; merit of 
 imitation in, as compared with 
 the epic, 470 et seq. ; reasons for 
 the superiority of, 472. 
 
 Travellers, accounts of, useful to 
 legislation, 32. 
 
 " Tyro " of Sophocles, tragedy of, 
 438 et n. 
 
 U. 
 
 Ulysses, on the pretended insanity 
 of, 422, n. 
 
 Unity, explanation of, 421, ». ; of 
 the fable, 422; one of the parts 
 of diction, 450. 
 
 Unjust, disposition of the, for com- 
 mitting wrong, 84. 
 
 "XiroUiTai, note on, 13, n. 
 
 'TiroKpiTijs, various meanings of, 
 204, n. 
 
 V. 
 
 Vanity, illustration of, 129. 
 
 Variety attended with pleasure, 77. 
 
 Vengeance, when to be taken, 114. 
 
 Verbs, one of the parts of diction, 
 449. 
 
 Vexatiousness, definition of, 106, 
 107. 
 
 Vice and virtue, the subject dis- 
 cussed, 57 et seq. 
 
 Victory attended with pleasure, 75. 
 
 Virtue, is honourable, 38, 57 ; con- 
 stituents of, 58. 
 
 and vice, the objects of the 
 
 orator, 57 et seq. 
 
500 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Virtues, the, a specific good, 40; 
 
 an object of emulation, 148. 
 Vulgar, natural logic of the, 2, •«. 
 
 W. 
 
 "Want, a motive for committing 
 ■wrong, 82. 
 
 War and peace, questions of, 30. 
 
 Water the best of things, 48. 
 
 Wealth, constituents of, 35 ; a spe- 
 cific good, 41 ; dispositions con- 
 sequent on, 157, 158. 
 
 Will, motive of the, 71. 
 
 Wisdom, attended with pleasure, 
 78. 
 
 Wise, the, disposed to envy, 145. 
 
 Witnesses, one of the proofs neces- 
 sary in judicial oratory, 96, 97. 
 
 Wonderful, the, necessary in trage- 
 dy and epic, 461. 
 
 Words, on the proper and different 
 uses of, 209, 210, 215, 216, 456, 
 457; on the beauty of, 213; on 
 the invention, extension, conteac- 
 tion, and changes of, 453 ; on the 
 various kinds of, 454, 
 
 Wronged, the, objects of fear, 123. 
 
 Xenophanes, the orator, sayings of, 
 101, 186, 190, 465. 
 
 Youth, on the passions and habits 
 of, 149 et seq. 
 
 Z. 
 
 Zeuxis, his painting of Helen, 469, 
 
 JOHN CHILDS AND SON, BUNGAY.