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AUTHOR: 
 
 ARISTOTLE 
 
 TITLE: 
 
 RHETORIC OF 
 
 ARISTOTLE ... 
 
 PLACE: 
 
 LONDON, NEW YORK 
 
 DA TE : 
 
 1886 
 
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 Rhetorica. English •'^^ 
 
 /•«'%*« . » 9 
 
 Aristoteles . 
 
 The Rhetoric of Aristotle; translated with an 
 analysis and critical notes, by J. E. C. Welldon 
 • .. London and New York/ Hdacmillsui and oo., 1886 
 
 xlvii, 306 p. 19i«n^ 
 
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 O^ Z^^uiX-^ oA*^ 
 
 THE KHETOKIC OF AEISTOTLE 
 
THE EHETOKIC OF AEISTOTLE 
 
 TKANSLATED 
 
 WITH AN ANALYSIS AND CRITICAL NOTES 
 
 BY 
 
 J. K C. WELLDON, M.A. 
 
 FELLOW OF king's COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, AND 
 HEAD-MASTEB OP HABEOW SCHOOL. 
 
 Hon&on 
 
 MACMILLAN AND 
 
 AND NEW YOBK 
 1886 
 
 CO. 
 
 \Th£ Right of Translation is reserved.} 
 
 1 
 
GIFT OF 
 
 'CLh,M^ 
 
 :\ 
 
 V XX4 
 
 ©ambritJge : 
 
 PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AND SONS, 
 AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. 
 
 , 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 This Translation of the Rhetoric of Aristotle 
 is a companion volume to my Translation of 
 the Politics. But it differs from it in the 
 greater fulness of the notes ; for, as I have no 
 thought of publishing an edition of the Rhetomc, 
 it seems to me necessary to explain as well as 
 I can my interpretations of some difficult pas- 
 8a{;es and my reasons for them. It is well 
 known that Mr Cope published in his lifetime 
 an Introduction to Aristotle s Rhetoric and at 
 his death left an elaborate commentary, which 
 has since been edited with scrupulous care by 
 Dr Sandys. Nobody, who has not been led 
 to a close study of the Rhetoric, can appreciate 
 the extent and exactness of Mr Cope's labours. 
 Next to his works, but below them in judg- 
 ment, stands the critical commentary of Spen- 
 gel. There are many other books bearing upon 
 the Rhetoric, which a Translator is bound to 
 consult, as the British Museum Catalogue (s. v. 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 
 tm 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Aristotle) so fully shews ; but it is not worth 
 while to enumerate them. Among personal 
 helps it is a pleasure to remember that I owe 
 an especial debt of gratitude to my friend, 
 Mr W. T. Lendrum, who was one of my col- 
 leagues at Dulwich, for his kindness in reading 
 my proof-sheets and in giving me the benefit 
 of his opinion, to which his accurate scholar- 
 ship lends pecuhar value, upon several points 
 in the Translation. The science or, as Aristotle 
 would call it, the art of Rhetoric has had a 
 curious history. It was his creation ; and what- 
 ever has been best in it from this time to the 
 present is due to him. The definition of Rhetoric, 
 its relation to Psychology, the distinction of its 
 three kinds, the nature of its proofs, the use of 
 enthymeme and example, the special and common 
 topics, the style and arrangement of a speech, 
 all are his. Where the Latin writers, such as 
 Cicero and Quintilian, ampUfied the field of 
 Rhetoric, it is not unfair to say that they 
 amplified it in a direction which he had delibe- 
 rately lefb alone. Nor is there any rhetorical 
 work of a later age which can be placed in 
 comparison with his. Even so late a book as 
 Archbishop Whately's Elements of Rhetoric 
 is in its method essentially Aristotelian and 
 hardly goes beyond his statement of principles. 
 
 \ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Vll 
 
 The study of Rhetoric as an educational 
 instrument, although it formed a part of 
 Roman as well as of later Greek culture, 
 although in the middle ages it was one of 
 the subjects of the Trivium, although from 
 the era of the Revival of Learning it entered 
 into the curriculum of the Universities, has 
 at least in England been practically neglected 
 since the beginning of the eighteenth century. 
 There are several reasons for this neglect, and 
 they are valid; but it is not a gain without 
 a loss. It is possible that the time will come 
 again when the world will recognize that "it 
 is not enough to know what to say, but it is 
 necessary also to know how to say it " (ov yap 
 anoxpr) to cxeti/ a Set XeyetVy dkX' avdyio) kol 
 Tavra a5s Set elneiv). Then the RhetoHc of Aris- 
 totle will, I think, be widely read, as being 
 perhaps a solitary instance of a book which 
 not only begins a science but completes it. 
 
 It is one of my hopes in publishing this 
 Translation that I may bring the Rhetoric 
 within the reach, if I may so express it, of 
 the modern world. The office of a translator, 
 even if he is also in some sense an interpreter, 
 may not unfairly be regarded as a humble one. 
 But as knowledge broadens, and the mass of 
 men have less leisure for studying Greek 
 
 f 
 
^ 
 
 VUl 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 thought in the language of the Greeks, it 
 would seem to become more and more desir- 
 able that the links which unite the new civi- 
 lization with the old should be strengthened 
 and multiplied ; and of these links translation 
 is the chief. For, as Goethe says in one of 
 his letters to Carlyle, So ist jeder Uebersetzer 
 anzusehen, dass er sich als Vermittler dieses 
 allgemein geistigen Handels bemiiht, und den 
 Wechseltausch zu befordern sich zum Geschaft 
 macht. Denn was man auch von der Unzu- 
 langlichkeit des Uebersetzens sagen mag, so 
 ist und bleibt es doch eines der wichtigsten 
 und wurdigsten Geschafte in dem allgemeinen 
 Weltwesen. 
 
 Harrow School, 
 October 13, 1886. 
 
 KB. The text adopted is that of Bekker's octavo edi- 
 tion. The marginal references are to the pages of the 
 Translation, the references in the foot-notes to the pa<»es 
 and lines of Bekker's text. 
 
 As in the Politics, the words italicized, except in a few 
 self-evident instances, are inserted in order to make the 
 original fully intelligible. 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Rhetoric is a counterpart {dvTiaTpocjyos) of Dialectic. Both are 
 general in their application ; neither is limited to any definite 
 science. 
 
 At present Rhetoric, like Dialectic, is unmethodical; or its 
 method is purely empirical. Still it is possible to treat Rhetoric 
 systematically. 
 
 The artistic part of Rhetoric consists in the proofs (TrtWfiff) — 
 although this is a part of it which is neglected in rhetorical hand- 
 books {rixvai) — to excite the emotions of the audience i s to war p i.,- 
 their judgment. 
 
 (There are three reasons for preferring the authority of the 
 laws to the decisions of particular judges : 
 
 (1) It is easier to find a few competent legislators or judges 
 than a large number. 
 
 (2) Laws are the results of mature deliberation ; judicial 
 decisions are given on the spur of the moment. 
 
 (3) The legislator's decisions are general and prospective ; 
 the judge's decisions relate to the issues of the moment in which 
 his personal feelings may be and often are involved. 
 
 Still there are certain questions, such as questions of fact, 
 which are necessarily left to the decision of the judges.) 
 
 The reason why writers upon Rhetoric have generally confined 
 themselves to forensic Rhetoric is that it affords the most op- 
 portunity of "wa^elling out of the record," i.e. of introducing 
 other topics than strict proof 
 
 The only proper subjects then of artistic treatment are the 
 proofs. 
 
 i 
 
/ 
 
 : 
 
 * 
 
 |i 
 
 1 
 
 -^ ANALYSIS. 
 
 But proof (TTiWtff) is a species of demonstration (dnodfiiU rtr), 
 and the rhetorical form of demonstration is the enthymeme- ^' 
 
 Also the enthymeme is a species of syUogism ((rv\koyi<rfi6s ns). 
 It follows that to understand the construction of syllogisms is— 
 with certain limitations— to understand the construction of en- 
 thymemes also. 
 
 The four uses of Rhetoric : 
 
 (1) It is the means by which truth and justice maintain and 
 assert their natural superiority to falsehood and mjustice. 
 
 (2) It is the only method of persuasion suitable to un- 
 scientific audiences. 
 
 y"^^ (3) As it teaches us to see both sides of a case and to sustain 
 / either the one side or the other, so it enables us to see through 
 (^ur adversary's arguments, if they are unfair, and to refute them. 
 ^ N.B. This capacity of drawing opposite logical conclusions ' 
 (rdpavria avWoyiCtaBm) is pecuhar to Rhetoric and Dialectic ^> 
 among the arts. , ^^ 
 
 (4) It is a means of self-defence. J> ' r ^^ 'T 
 
 If it is urged that Rhetoric, when used unjustly, may do great 
 
 harm, the answer is that this objection holds good equally of all 
 
 good things, except virtue itself. 
 
 The functi on (€pyov)^f Rhetoric is not to persuade but t o dis- 
 
 cover the available niSns ot p e rsuasion in anv subieot (t,\ ;;t.7u 
 
 TO virapxovra iriBava ncpl fKaarop). 
 
 N.B. There are apparent or fallacious, as well as real, means 
 of persuasion ; but the discovery of both belongs to the same art. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Rhetoric may be defined as a " faculty of discovering all the 
 possible means of persuasion on any subject" (dvvafus ntpl tKatnov 
 Tov Beapfja-ai ro ivbfx6p,fvov nidavop). 
 
 Rhetorical proofs are of two kinds : 
 
 (1) inartistic (arfx^ot), which the rhetorician finds ready to 
 his hand, e.g. witnesses, tortures, contracts. 
 
 (2) artistic (evrf^vot), which he invents. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XI 
 
 
 \ 
 
 The artistic proofs are threefold, consisting in 
 
 (1) the manifestation of moral character {^6os) in the 
 saker, 
 
 (2) the production of a certain disposition in the audience, 
 
 (3) the argument of the speech itself. 
 
 Accordingly the complete rhetorician should possess 
 
 (1) the power of argumentative reasoning, 
 
 (2) a knowledge of character, 
 
 (3) a knowledge of the nature and quality of the emotions 
 (TrdBtf). 
 
 Hence it follows that Rhetoric is an offshoot of Dialectic on 
 the one hand and of Ethics on the other. 
 The proofs conveyed by the argument are 
 
 (1 ) the example {napdbfi.yyM^ corresponding to the induction 
 (cTraywyif) in Dialectic, 
 
 (2) the enthymeme, corresponding to the syllogism, 
 
 (3) the apparent enthymeme ((jyaivopevov ivBvfiTjfia) corre- 
 sponding to the apparent syllogism {<t)aiv6fx(Pos (rvXkoyt(rfi6s). 
 
 The enthymeme may be called a rhetorical syllogism, 
 
 The example a rhetorical induction. 
 
 Rhetoric then discovers the means of persuasion in any 
 subject. ' "" — _^ 
 
 But no art takes particular cases into consideration. Henc 
 Rhetoric will consider probability not in relation to an individual, 
 but in relation to a class of persons similarly constituted. 
 
 Also the materials of Rhetoric are the ordinary subjects of 
 human deliberation; and these are such subjects as admit of 
 two possibilities, or in other words human actions. .^^^ i 
 
 And further, the audience to which Rhetoric addresses itself 
 is a popular one, without the power of following lengthy j 
 arguments. J^ 
 
 The propositions of which enthymemes are constructed are 
 probabilities (f tVora) and signs {cnjfMfla) ; 
 
 and signs are either necessary and conclusive, being then 
 called demonstrations (TeKfiripia)^ 
 
 or not necessary, but only generally true. 
 
 
 .. _^ai^>.Ma 
 
 .tltj. 
 
xu 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 I 
 
 vi^ 
 
 iV 
 
 The example is an induction, where the example itself and 
 the thing exemplified both fall under the same general law, but 
 the example is the better known instance of it. 
 
 The materials of enthymemes are 
 
 {a) such as are common to many various arts and faculties ; 
 these are the "common topics" or "topics," as they are sometimes 
 called par excellence (koivoI tottoi or roVoi) ; 
 
 (&) such as are special to one art or faculty (rata, l8ioi rwrot, 
 €i8t)\ e.g. physical propositions to Physics, ethical to Ethics, and 
 so on. 
 
 • 
 
 ^ An over-skilful i i sfl of t hej^special topics" is not appropriate 
 _rhetorician; it leads him into the province of the special 
 art or faculty to which they belong. 
 
 Vv> 
 
 yi 
 
 \ 
 
 4 
 
 J 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 There are three kinds of audience, and corresponding to them 
 three kinds of Rhetoric, viz. 
 
 deliberative ((n;/i/3ovXfVTt#coi'), 
 forensic (^iKaviK6v\ 
 
 epideictic (eViSeixTticdi/), i.e. the Rhetoric of display. 
 They admit of the following classification : 
 
 
 
 Kind of 
 Rhetoric. 
 
 Deliberative 
 
 Forensic 
 
 \ Epideictic 
 
 V 
 
 Divisions. 
 
 Exhortation 
 Dissuasion 
 
 Accusation 
 Defence 
 
 Eulogy 
 Censure 
 
 } 
 } 
 } 
 
 Time. 
 Future 
 Past 
 Present 
 
 / 
 
 Ena (r€Xoff). 
 
 Expediency and 
 Inexpediency. 
 
 Justice and 
 Injustice. 
 
 Honour and Disgrace, 
 or Nobleness and 
 Shamefulness {jo 
 Kokov Kai TO aicr- 
 Xpov). \ 
 
 ANALYSIS. xiii 
 
 Hence the deliberative orator employs propositions (7rporaa««) 
 relating to expediency and inexpediency, 
 
 the forensic orator propositions relating to justice and 
 injustice, 
 
 the epideictic orator propositions relating to honour and 
 disgrace; 
 
 and these are the "special topics" of each kind of Rhetoric. 
 
 But they all employ propositions relating to possibility and 
 / impossibility, the occurrence or non-occurrence of events in the 
 I past and in the future, and magnitude both absolute and com- 
 I parative ; 
 
 /^these are the "common topics." 
 
 CHAPTERS IV— VIIL 
 Deliberative or political Rhetoric (r^ (rvfx^ovXtvTiKov fj 
 
 drjfiTjyopiKov y(Pos). 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 As the end (reXos) which deliberative Rhetoric regards is 
 expediency, its subjects are things good or bad^ i.e. expedient or 
 injurious, 
 
 but not all such things, 
 
 not such as do not admit of two possibilities, 
 
 nor such as depend on Nature {(fyvais) or chance (rvxrj). 
 
 The subjects of Rhetoric are all such things, being expedient 
 or injurious, as are possible matters of deliberation, i.e. such as 
 naturally depend upon our own action. 
 
 The most important of these are :— 
 
 (1) Finance. 
 
 (2) War and peace. 
 
 * M 
 
./ 
 
 X 
 
 Vr 
 
 J 
 
 \ 
 
 XIV 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 (3) Defence of the country. 
 
 (4) Imports and exports. 
 
 (5) Legislation. 
 Under (1) Finance, 
 
 comes a knowledge of the resources of the State and their 
 possible development and its channels of expenditure. 
 Under (2) War and Peace, 
 
 a knowledge of the actual and possible military force of the 
 State and of other States with which it has been or may be at war 
 and of their military history. 
 
 Under (3) Defence of the country, 
 
 a knowledge of its defensive force and the sites of its 
 fortresses. 
 
 Under (4) Imports and exports, 
 
 a knowledge of the relation of the State to other States 
 in respect of its necessary supplies. 
 
 Under (5) Legislation, 
 
 a knowledge of the different kinds of polities and their sources 
 of strength or weakness. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ^ As all men, both individually and collectively, aim at happiness 
 (€vSaifiovia\ it is upon happiness or the constituents of happiness 
 that exhortation and dissuasion turn. 
 
 Various definitions of happiness : 
 
 (a) prosperity conjoined with virtue. 
 
 (b) an independent state of existence. 
 
 (c) the pleasantest life conjoined with safety. 
 
 {d) an abundance of goods and slaves with the ability to 
 preserve them and to make a practical use of them. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 K 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 i\ 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XV 
 
 Happiness implies the possession of 
 
 (1) personal goods (ri cV avVw dya0d), whether of the soul 
 or of the body ; 
 
 (2) external goods (rA €'kt6s dyadd), such as nobility, riches, 
 honour. 
 
 The constituent parts of happiness are 
 
 (1) Nobility, which implies 
 
 in a State, that its citizens are indigenous or of high 
 antiquity or have won themselves fame. 
 
 in a family, the legitimacy of its members and their good 
 name or celebrity. 
 
 (2) The blessing of offspring, 
 
 whether of a numerous, stalwart and moral youth in 
 a State, 
 
 or of numerous and goodly children, both male and female, in 
 a family. 
 
 N.B. It is important to provide for the moral culture of the 
 women as well as of the men. 
 
 (3) Wealth, in money, lands, live stock and slaves ; not only 
 the productive kinds of wealth, but luxuries. The possession 
 of wealth should be both absolute and secure. 
 
 (4) Reputation, whether for personal character or for some 
 prized possession. 
 
 (6) Honour, which may assume a number of different forms 
 
 (6) Health. 
 
 (7) Beauty, which is different at different periods of life. 
 
 (8) Strength. 
 
 (9) Size, which should exceed the average size, i.e. height 
 stoutness and breadth, of men. ' 
 
 (10) Athletic excellence. 
 
 (11) A happy old age. 
 
 (12) The possession of many good friends. 
 
 (13) Good Fortune. 
 
 (14) Virtue. 
 
XVI 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 As the end of deliberative Rhetoric is expediency and what- 
 ever is expedient (a-vficpepov) is good {aya66v\ it is necessary 
 to apprehend the nature of Good. 
 
 Good may be defined as that which is desirable for its own sake 
 and for the sake of which we desire or choose something else, and 
 which is sought by all things or by all sentient or intelligent 
 things or would be sought by them, if they should acquire 
 intelligence. 
 
 The following then are goods : 
 
 (1) happiness. 
 
 (2) justice, courage, temperance {a-a(f)poavtn]\ magnanimity 
 (fi€yaXo'sln)xta), magnificence (jieydkoTrpineia) and other virtues 
 of the soul. 
 
 (3) health, beauty etc., as being physical virtues or graces. 
 
 (4) wealth. 
 
 (5) friendship. 
 
 (6) honour and reputation. 
 
 (7) rhetorical and practical ability. 
 
 (8) natural gifts, such as memory, sharpness of wit, etc. 
 
 (9) all sciences and arts. 
 
 (10) life itself, apart from the goods of life. 
 
 (11) justice. 
 
 These are admitted to be goods; but there are other goods of 
 a disputable kind, and in respect of them Aristotle suggests some 
 twenty topics which may be used in syllogisms to show that a 
 thing is a good. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Comparison of goods. 
 
 It often happens that two things are admitted to be expedient, 
 but the question arises, Which is the more expedient of the two ? 
 
 ■ r 
 
 1 
 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XVll 
 
 Hence it is necessary to consider the question of degree (rb fiSKXov 
 
 KOI ^TTOP). — ^_ , 
 
 Aristotle suggests a number of topics bearing upon the com- 
 parative greatness or goodness of things. 
 
 v.' 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 The principal means of persuasiveness in deliberative Rhetoric 
 is an acquaintance with the various forms of polity. 
 
 The character of a polity is determined by the character of its 
 supreme authority {t6 Kvpiov). 
 
 There are four pohties, viz. Democracy, Oligarchy, Aristocracy 
 Monarchy. ' 
 
 A Democracy is a poUty in which the ofllces of State are 
 distributed among the citizens by lot. 
 
 An Oligarchy, one in which they are distributed among 
 persons possessing a certain property qualification. 
 
 An Aristocracy, one in which they are distributed among the 
 educated class. 
 
 Monarchy, or the polity in which an individual is supreme, 
 may be 
 
 (1) constitutional Monarchy or Kingship (/Sao-tXfta), 
 
 (2) absolute Monarchy or Tyranny. 
 Of these polities each has its end {rikos). 
 
 The end of Democracy is liberty. 
 
 The end of Oligarchy is wealth. 
 
 The end of Aristocracy is education and legality. 
 I The end of Tyranny is self-preservation. 
 I The customs or institutions of a polity are relative to its end, 
 -Also polities have their characters; aristocratical sentiments 
 are suited to the character of an Aristocracy, democratical to 
 that of a Democracy, and so on. Hence it is necessary that 
 the deliberative orator should apprehend the characters of the 
 several polities. 
 
 W. R. yj j f/iO J 
 
 \) 
 
\^ 
 
 XVUl ANALYSIS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Epideictic Rhetoric {r6 iiribtixTiKov yeVoc ). 
 Its subjects are virtue and vice, or nobleness and shameful- 
 ness. 
 
 Definition of moral nobleness— A thing is noble if, while it is 
 desirable for its own sake, it is laudable, or if, while it is good, it 
 is pleasant in virtue of its goodness. 
 
 It follows that virtue is noble ; 
 
 and the elements of virtue are justice, valour, temperance, 
 magnificence, magnanimity, hberality, gentleness, sagacity {4>p6- 
 vrja-is) and speculative wisdom {<To<f>ia). 
 
 The greatest virtues are those which are in the highest degree 
 serviceable to others. 
 
 Taking this conception of virtue, Aristotle proceeds (1) to 
 analyse moral actions, (2) to compare them in respect of their 
 virtuousness. 
 
 N.B. Rhetorical artifices : 
 
 (1) To represent certain quaUties as identical with other 
 qualities which are closely allied to them, e.g. caution as subUety 
 foohshness as simplicity, extravagance as liberality. * 
 
 (2) To consider the qualities held in esteem by the audi- 
 ence. 
 
 (3) To display the moral purpose {npoaiptais) of the person 
 who IS the subject of the speech. 
 
 (Digression upon eulogy (cVatvoy), panegyric (e'yccoVtoi/), feUcita- 
 tion (jiaKapiafios), congratulation {(vdaifioviafMos) : 
 
 The subjects of eulogy are actions (Trpa^t j), those of panegyric 
 are accomplished results (^pya). 
 
 Felicitation and congratulation are synonymous terms, em- 
 bracmg eulogy and panegyric. 
 
 . The same topics, differently expressed, are suitable to euloirv 
 and deliberative Rhetoric.) 
 
 (4) To employ the means of exaggeration (aCir,<ns). 
 
 (5) To institute a favourable comparison between the person 
 who is the subject of the speech and other persons of aximitted 
 reputation. 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
 fX 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XIX 
 
 : ^ 
 
 These artifices belong especially to epideictic Rhetoric. 
 
 Jn general, exaggeration is^ecidiarly-apprQBnatfijtfl epideictic 
 Rhetoric, ^^ampleto^liberative Rhetoric, the enthymeme to 
 forensic Rhetoria " ^ 
 
 The materials of censure may be inferred from those of 
 eulogy. 
 
 CHAPTERS X.— XIV. 
 Forensic Rhetoric (jo hiKaviKov ytvos). 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 In the treatment of forensic Rhetoric, which includes accusa- 
 tion and defence, there are three points to be ascertained, viz. 
 
 (I) the nature and number of the objects of crime. 
 
 (II) the dispositions of the criminals. 
 
 (Ill) the character and condition of the victims. 
 
 Definition of crime— Voluntary injury in defiance of the law. 
 But law is of two kinds: 
 
 (a) particular (idtof), i.e. the written law of any polity. 
 
 (6) universal (icoii/oj), le. the unwritten law which is always 
 and everywhere recognized. 
 
 The causes of a disposition to commit crime are vice and 
 incontinence. 
 
 (I) The objects of crime. 
 
 All human actions arise from one or more of seven causes, viz. 
 
 (1) chance 
 
 (2) nature r 
 
 (3) compulsion) or mvoluntary. 
 
 (4) habit \ 
 (6) reasoning [ such actions being due to ourselves, or 
 
 (6) passion j voluntary. 
 
 (7) desire j 
 
 62 
 
 such actions being not due to ourselves. 
 
 V. 
 
 \ 
 
 ^»*m 
 
 'mf 
 
"rr^"ri»"'»*f^»i 
 
 4 
 
 IH ^ 
 
 XX 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 Aristotle defines and explains these causes. 
 
 It appears then that all actions which are due to ourselves^ 
 i.e. all voluntary actions, are either good (or apparently good or 
 pleasant or apparently pleasant. 
 
 But the good or expedient has been already discussed under 
 the head of deliberative Rhetoric. 
 
 It remains then to consider the pleasant 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Definition of pleasure— A certain motion of the soul and a 
 sudden and sensible settling (KaTaaraa-is) of the soul into its 
 normal and natural state. 
 
 Such being the nature of pleasure, it follows that whatever 
 tends to promote the condition described is pleasant, and what- 
 ever tends to destroy it or produce a contrary condition is painful 
 
 Enumeration of things pleasant and (by implication) of things 
 painful, as being the opposites. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 (II) The conditions under which people commit crime. 
 
 The conditions are that they should believe the criminal action 
 to be possible in itself md possible to them, whether as expecting 
 to escape detection or, if detected, to escape punishment or, if 
 punished, to endure a punishment which is not equivalent to the 
 advantage gained by the crime. 
 
 Aristotle elaborately discusses these conditions. 
 
 (III) The victims of crime. 
 
 Aristotle describes the classes of persons upon whom crimes 
 are ordinarily committed. 
 
 There are certain circumstances which facilitate crime, as e.g. 
 if the articles stolen are easily concealed, or if it is a crime of such 
 a nature that the victim would be unwilling to publish it. 
 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XXI 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 Classification of actions just and unjust (biKaiafmra koi ddiKij- 
 fMTa), 
 
 They may be classified in two ways : 
 
 (1) relatively to the laws, 
 
 (2) relatively to the persons affected by them. 
 
 The law may be (a) particular, i.e. the law of a particular State. 
 
 (b) universal, i.e. the law of Nature. 
 The persons affected may be 
 
 (a) the community as a whole, 
 
 (b) some individual member or members of it. 
 
 Also crimes are committed 
 
 either ignorantly and involuntarily, 
 or knowingly and involuntarily ; 
 
 and, if the latter be the case, 
 
 either of deliberate purpose 
 
 or under the influence of emotion. 
 
 N.B. It often happens that a fact is admitted, but the de- 
 scription of it or the application of the description is denied. 
 Hence the necessity of clear definitions of crimes. 
 
 It is the purpose (Trpoaipcais) which constitutes vice or 
 criminality. 
 
 The matters which come within the province of unwritten 
 law are 
 
 (1) such as are instances of exalted virtue, eg. gratitude, 
 
 (2) such as are remedies for the deficiency of written law. 
 
 The justice which supplements the written law is equity (ro 
 
 This function of equity may be 
 
 (a) consistent with the intention of the legislator, e.g. if the 
 terns of the law are absolute, and yet it is not absolutely appli- 
 cable to all cases ; 
 
> 
 
 XXll 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 I I 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 (h) contrary to his intention, if it touches upon a point 
 which has escaped his notice. 
 
 Aristotle illustrates the province and nature of equity. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The magnitude of a crime is proportionate to the magnitude 
 of the injustice which prompts it. 
 
 Hence it is sometimes necessary to estimate the comparative 
 magnitude of crimes. 
 
 Application of the topic of degree to criminal actions. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ^ The inartistic proofs {artx^oi Triorcts), which are properly 
 limited to forensic Rhetoric. 
 
 They are five, viz. 
 
 (1) laws, 
 
 (2) witnesses, 
 
 (3) contracts, 
 
 (4) tortures, 
 t (6) the oath. 
 
 (1) Laws. 
 
 Topics suitable for upsetting the authority of a law, if it tells 
 against us, and for confirming it, if it makes in our favour. 
 
 (2) Witnesses may be 
 (a) ancient, 
 (&) contemporary; 
 
 and, if the latter, 
 
 either involved in the risk of the action at law or independent 
 of it 
 
 (a) Ancient witnesses are : 
 poets, who testify to facts of the past, 
 interpreters of oracles, who testify to facts of the future, 
 proverbs. 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XXlll 
 
 V 
 
 (6) Contemporary witnesses are : 
 
 living authorities, if they have pronounced judgment on 
 a particular point, 
 
 witnesses who appear in Court and give their evidence. 
 
 Ancient witnesses are more credible than contemporary. 
 Topics for confirming or invalidating the weight of testimony. 
 
 Testimony may have reference either to oneself or to one*8 
 adversary and either to fact or to character. 
 
 (3) Contracts. 
 
 Topics of exaggeration or depreciation in regard to con- 
 tracts. 
 
 (4) Torture. / J '^ 
 
 Topics in support or depreciation of torture, as a means of 
 arriving at the truth. 
 
 (5) Oaths. 
 
 Four possible cases : 
 
 (a) when a person both tenders and accepts the oath, 
 
 (b) when he does neither, 
 
 (c) when he tenders the oath without accepting it, 
 
 (d) when he accepts it without tendering it. 
 
 Also there may be combinations of two such cases. 
 
 Or there may be a further complication, if a person 
 his adversary has already taken the oath. 
 
 Aristotle suggests topics suitable to all these cases and 
 combinations of cases. 
 
 BOOK 11. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 As Rhetoric is intended to be judged, there are two things— 
 apart from direct proof— which should be the objects of the 
 rhetorician's endeavour : 
 
 /0/4 
 
 '■ - * . , 
 
II I 
 
 1 
 
 ¥ 
 
 XXIV 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 m <i 
 
 / 
 
 \^ 
 
 y 
 
 1 
 
 ^ (I) To produce a favourable impression of his own 
 character. 
 
 (2) To produce a favourable disposition in his audience. 
 
 Of these the former is particularly suited to deliberative, 
 the latter to forensic, Rhetoric. 
 
 , (1) The sources of personal credibility are threefold : 
 
 (a) sagacity, 
 
 (b) virtue, 
 
 (c) goodwill, i.e. goodwill towards the audience. 
 
 The means of getting credit for sagacity and virtue may 
 be ascertained from the analysis of the virtues in Book I. 
 
 Goodwill will be discussed under the head of the emotions 
 
 Definition of the emotions— Such states as are attended 
 by pain and pleasure and produce a chaoge or difference in 
 our attitude as judges. 
 
 It will be proper to consider the several emotions under three 
 
 "^ 
 
 .X 
 
 
 heads, viz. 
 
 II 
 
 \ 
 
 ^w/' 
 
 (1) the conditions under which people are liable to it, 
 
 (2) the persons who are usually the objects of it, 
 
 (3) the causes of it. 
 
 CHAPTERS II.— XI. 
 Analysis of the|emotions. ) 
 
 (1) Anger. | 
 
 (2) Placability (npaoTTjs). J 
 
 (3) Love. I 
 
 (4) Hatred or Enmity. J 
 (6) Fear. | 
 
 (6) Confidence. J 
 
 (7) Shame. 1 ' 
 
 (8) Shamelessness. J 
 
 (9) Benevolence (;(dpir). "| 
 Its opposite is selfishness (dxapt(rria). J 
 
 'I 
 
 •» 
 
 
 / 
 
 {/ 
 
 \ U^ 
 
 ANALYSIS. XXV 
 
 (10) Compassion. I 
 
 (11) Virtuous indignation (i/c/xeortff). J 
 
 (12) Envy. 
 
 (13) Emulation (C^Xoi). 1 
 
 (14) Contempt j 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 (1) Anger. 
 
 Definition — An impulse attended with pain to a con- 
 spicuous revenge on account of a conspicuous slight shown in 
 some offence against oneself or one of one's friends without any 
 natural reason for the slight. 
 
 It follows that anger is always directed against an in- 
 dividual, never agamst a class. 
 
 (There is a certain pleasure in anger, arising from the 
 imagination of future revenge.) 
 
 A slight (oXtywpia) may take three forms : 
 
 (a) contempt (icara^pow/o-ty), 
 
 (b) spitefulness {eTnjpcaa-fios)^ 
 
 (c) insolence (v/Spey). 
 
 (1) The conditions of anger— annoyance, disappointment, 
 unsatisfied desire, etc. 
 
 (2) The objects of auger— persons who sneer at us, who 
 disparage our accomplishments, who requite our services with 
 ingratitude, etc. 
 
 (3) The causes of anger may be regarded as comprised 
 under its objects and conditions. 
 
 It is the task of the rhetorician then to bring his audience into 
 a coildition^fJTgacibttrtj-aggmst his adversary. 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 (2) Placability. 
 
 Definition— The process of becoming placable may be defined 
 as a settling down or quieting of anger. 
 
 (1) The persons towards whom it is natural to be placable 
 are those who do not slight us or who slight us involuntarily or 
 
 f 
 
 
 «t 
 
 .^1 ■' 
 
 .^y^ 
 
 
1 
 li ' 
 
 XXVI 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 who if they offend against us, confess their fault and are sorry for 
 it, etc. "^ 
 
 (2) The conditions of placability are opposed to those of 
 anger, e.g. times of amusement, feasting, prosperity etc 
 
 The rhetorician will choose his topics in view 'of these 
 conditions. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 (3) Love. 
 
 Definition~To love a person is to wish him all such things as 
 you suppose to be good, not for your own sake but for his, and to 
 be ready so far as m you lies to effect them. 
 
 A friend is one who loves and is beloved in return (6 d>0<Su 
 Kai avTi<f)iXovfi€vos). 
 
 (1) Persons who are the objects of love-benefactors, 
 liberal, brave, just people, etc. 
 
 (2) Causes of love— favours conferred, especially if conferred 
 spontaneously and without ostentation. 
 
 N.B. Love or friendship admits of various forms, viz' 
 companionship (era*p./a), intimacy (o*\e*ar^.), relationship (crvy- 
 yevem), etc. ' 
 
 (4) Enmity or Hatred— the opposite of love. 
 The causes which produce it are (1) anger, 
 
 (2) spite, 
 
 (3) prejudice (dia/3oXi;). 
 (Distinction between anger and hatred. 
 
 Anger 
 (a) arises from personal wrongs, 
 
 (6) is always directed against 
 individuals, 
 
 (c) is curable by time, 
 
 (d) aims at causing pain, 
 
 (e) is accompanied by pain, 
 (/) admits of compassion, 
 
 V 
 
 \. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 \ 
 
 Hatred 
 
 is independent of personal 
 wrongs. 
 
 may be directed agamst 
 
 classes. ^ 
 
 is not curable by tima 
 aims at causing evil, 
 is not accompanied by pam. 
 precludes compassion.) 
 
 ^r 
 
 ANALYSIS. xxvil 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 (5) Fear. 
 
 Definition—A species of pain or disturbance arising from an 
 impression of impending evil which is destructive or painful in its 
 nature. 
 
 (1) It follows that all things are formidable or inspire fear 
 which appear to have a great power of destroying or of inflicting 
 such injury as tends to grievous pain. Such things are the enmity 
 or anger of powerful persons, a criminal disposition, if armed with 
 power, etc. 
 
 Persons too are formidable, if they are in a position to commit 
 crime or if they have been the victims of crime and are watching 
 for their revenge, etc. 
 
 (2) Conditions of fear.— In order to feel fear it is necessary 
 to regard oneself as capable- of suffering and of suffering at the 
 hands of particular people. 
 
 (6) Confidence— the opposite of fear. 
 
 Definition-hope accompanied by an impression of salutary 
 things as near at hand and of formidable things as non-existent 
 or remote. 
 
 The sources of confidence (rh OappaKia) are the remoteness of 
 danger, the possession of remedies or means of rectification, etc 
 
 The conditions of confidence are frequent successes in the 
 past, frequent escapes from danger, the consciousness of 
 innocence, etc. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 (7) Shame. 
 
 (8) Shamelessness. 
 
 Definition-Shame may be defined as a species of pain or 
 disturbance in regard to evil things, either past, present or future, 
 which have an appearance of tending to ignominy ; and shame- 
 lessness as a species of slight or indifference in regard to these 
 same things. 
 
 J » 
 
• • ■ 
 
 XXVUl 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 .) 
 
 (1) Instances of shameful action— throwing away one*8 
 shield in battle, refusing to restore a deposit, etc. 
 
 (2) Persons who inspire a feeling of shame. Those who 
 admire us, or whom we admire, or whose admiration we desire to 
 win, etc. 
 
 (3) Conditions of shame — When we are conscious of past 
 achievements or actions upon which we shall bring dishonour, 
 when we are likely to live in the presence of the witnesses of our 
 disgrace, etc. 
 
 The rule of contraries will supply topics in regard to shame- 
 lessness. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 (9) Benevolence. 
 
 Definition— It is benevolence in virtue of which the person in 
 whom it resides is said to render a service to anybody in the hour 
 of need, not in return for previous services or for any personal 
 benefit to him who renders it but for the benefit of the recipient 
 alone. 
 
 An act of benevolence may be enhanced by showing that 
 it was done at a critical moment or that it has never been 
 done before, etc. 
 
 But an act loses its benevolent character, if it is represented 
 as having been done for selfish motives, or done by accident 
 or under compulsion, etc. 
 
 The opposite of benevolence is selfishness. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 (10) Compassion. 
 
 Definition— A sort of pain at an evident evil of a destructive 
 or painful kind, in the case of somebody who does not deserve it, 
 the evil being one to which we may naturally expect ourselves or 
 someone of our friends to be liable, and this at a time when it 
 appears to be near at hand. 
 
 (1 ) The condition of compassion then is a capacity of similar 
 suffering. 
 
 pi: 
 
 
 ANALYSIS. xxix 
 
 It follows that people, who are absolutely ruined, or who 
 believe themselves to be supremely happy, are incapable of 
 compassion. 
 
 N.B. Compassion presupposes a belief in human virtue ; for 
 he who does not believe in anybody's virtue will consider that 
 everybody is deserving of evil. 
 
 (2) The causes of compassion are all such painful and 
 distressing things as are destructive and ruinous, and all the evila 
 of Fortune. 
 
 (3) The objects of compassion are familiar friends, equals in 
 age, character, etc. 
 
 Gestures, tones, habiliments, etc., are useful to the rhetorician 
 as means of exciting and enhancing compassion. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 (11) Virtuous indignation (vefiea-is)— the correlative of com- 
 passion but, like it, an honourable emotion. 
 
 Definition— A feeling of pam at such prosperity as is apparently 
 unmerited. 
 
 (Distinction between virtuous indignation and envy, ■ 
 Both are painful and perturbing emotions, 
 both relate to the prosperity of others ; 
 
 but the former relates to the prosperity of someone who is 
 undeserving, 
 
 the latter to that of someone who is like ourselves. 
 
 N.B. Virtuous indignation, envy and malice, although 
 different in themselves, are yet proper to the same character.) 
 
 (1) Causes of virtuous indignation— not all good things, as 
 e.g. justice or valour, but such good things, when possessed by the 
 bad, as seem to be rightly the possessions of the good, as e.g. 
 wealth, power, etc. 
 
 (2) Persons who are the objects of virtuous indignation, 
 such as the 7iouceaux riches and inferiors generally, if they 
 contend against their superiors. 
 
 II 
 
 1 1 
 
XXX 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 (3) Conditions of virtuous indignation. Whenever we 
 consider ourselves to be worthy of particular things, and others 
 to be unworthy of them. 
 
 Hence virtuous indignation is not an emotion of mean 
 natures. •-v^m* 
 
 r^nomng the means of exciting virtuous indignation, the 
 /rtetoncian knows the means of destroying compassion. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 (12) Envy. 
 
 • Definition-A species of pain felt at conspicuous prosperity on 
 the part of persons like ourselves in respect of certain goods, and 
 
 !!nl"Il '" ^' "^^ ^ ""^ P*"*""^ advantage but solely be- 
 cause they are prosperous. 
 
 eaJ^l .^""f """« »f envy-People are envious if they have 
 equals m family, age, or reputation, if they are ambitious, etc. 
 
 (2) Causes of envy-Achievements or possessions of which 
 we covet the reputation, the gifts of Fortune, etc. 
 
 (3) Objects of envy— our equals, rivals, etc. 
 Envy excludes the possibiUty of compassion. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 (13) Emulation. 
 
 Definition-A species of pain at the manifest presence of such 
 goods as are highly valued and also attainable V oZl^^ 
 persons who have a natural resemblance to us, and this not because 
 somebody else is m possession of them, but because we are not 
 equally m possession of them ourselves. 
 
 (Distinction between emulation and envy. 
 
 Emulation is a virtuous, envy a vicious emotion, for the object 
 of the emulous man is to acquire goods for himself, that of the 
 envious man to deprive his neighbour of them.) 
 
 (1) Conditions of emulation-People are emulous, if they 
 <;ons,der themselves entitled to g,KMis which they do not enjoy; 
 
 \ 
 
 xxxi 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 Zt^Z!" " '"""" """' " " '""'* "' ""*'* °' distinguished 
 e.g. th^virt^r "' ^'"'"''""<='' ^00^ - are held in honour, 
 
 (3) Objects of emulation-persons who possess these goods. 
 (14) Contempt is the opposite of emulation. 
 
 be !J!!!lrt " k" ^"^ '" " ""'"""<'» *» «""'l»t« others or to 
 be themselves the objects of emutetion are inclined to contemn 
 Uiose who are subject to such evils as are contrary to the g^ 
 which provoke emulation. * 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 of In?r? 1 "y"^"*^: tT"^ "P°" *« «'"°««»« (-<*/). habits 
 of mind (.i,,,), times of life (^A«i..), and accidents of Fortune 
 
 i e Ihr.T""'"'!'': ''"^*^' '^^'"■™' o*«- and the habit* of mind 
 ..e. the virtues and vices, have been already discussed. 
 
 The times of life are youth, the prime of Hfe and aga 
 Fortune includes birth, wealth, power, etc. 
 Anstotle elaborately describes the character of youth 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 The character of age. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The character of the prime of life, which is intermediate be- 
 tween the characters of youth and age. meaiate oe- 
 
 N.B. The time of physical prime is from 30 to 35 • that of 
 mental prime about 49. ' °' 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 The character of nobility. 
 
N 
 
 xxxu 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 The character of wealth. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The character of power. 
 The character of good Fortune. 
 
 The characters of poverty, powerlessness, etc. are evident from 
 a consideration of opposites. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Recapitulation. 
 Plan of the work. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 The four common topics {koivoI tottoi^ i.e. topics which are 
 common to the three kinds of Rhetoric : 
 
 (1) Possibility. 
 
 Topics tending to show the possibility or impossibility of a 
 thing. 
 
 (2) Fact past. 
 
 Topics tending to show that a thing either has or has not 
 occurred. 
 
 (3) Fact future. 
 
 Topics tending to show that a thing either will or will not 
 occur. 
 
 (4) Degree. 
 
 Topics tending to show the absolute and comparative greatness 
 or smallness of things. 
 
 \ 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XXXlll 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 The common proofs {koivqI iriarcn) are 
 
 (1) the example, 
 
 (2) the enthymeme. 
 
 KB. The maxim (ypco^rj) is part of the enthymeme. 
 
 (1) Examples are of two kinds, viz. ; 
 (a) historical parallels, 
 
 .. , « l\ inventions of the rhetorician, whether illustrations 
 
 \{7rapa^o\ac) or fables {X6yoi) such as the fables of ^sop. 
 Fables are suited to popular oratory, and, a^ compared with 
 historical parallels, are easy to find. 
 
 \ It is proper, in default of enthymemes to make use of examples 
 as logical proofs, but otherwise to make use of them as testimonies 
 in support of the enthymemes. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 The use of maxims (yvafioXoyla). 
 Definition of a maxim (yva,>v) : A declaration relating not to 
 particulars but to universals, and not to all universals but to such 
 as are the objects of human action and are to be chosen or 
 eschewed in that regard. 
 
 The enthymeme being the form of syllogism which is ap- 
 I)ropriate to these matters, if the syllogistic form is done away 
 the conclusion of an enthymeme or its major premiss is a maxim' 
 
 There are four kinds of maxims ; for maxims may either have 
 or not have a logical supplement (eV/Xoyor). 
 
 Maxims have no such supplement 
 
 (a) when the maxim is a generally axicepted opinion, 
 
 (b) when it is intelligible at a glance; 
 maxims which have it are 
 
 (a) parts of an enthymeme, 
 
 W.B. ^ 
 
(•' 
 
 III 
 
 f 
 
 xxxiv 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 (ft) not parts of an enthymeme, but enthymematic in their 
 character, where the reason of the maxim is contained in the words 
 of the maxim itself. 
 
 Where the maxim is disputable, obscure or paradoxical, the 
 addition of the supplement is indispensable. 
 
 Maxims are appropriate 
 (1) upon the lips of persons of years and experience, 
 (2} in contradiction of popular or proverbial sayings. 
 
 There are two important uses of maxims : 
 
 (1) That, as being general statements, they are pleasing to 
 a vulgar audience who find in them the generalization, or, as it 
 were, the consummation of their partial experience. 
 
 (2) That, as expressing moral predilections, they invest the 
 speech with an ethical character. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 Enthymemes. • • 
 
 , In the consideration of enthymemes it is necessary to consider 
 
 (1) the true method of looking for them, 
 
 (2) their topics. 
 
 The proper materials of enthymemes are not aU opinions in- 
 discriminately, but such opinions as commeiui themselves to the 
 .^audience. " ' -- 
 
 But it is necessary that the rhetorician should know all or 
 some at least of the special facts of the subject with which ho 
 deals, e.g. of military matters, if it is war, of justice, if it is a 
 judicial case, and so on. 
 
 There are two species of enthymemes, viz.: 
 
 (1) demonstrative (5ftn-«ci), which consist in drawing con- 
 elusions from admitted propositions, 
 
 (2) refutative (eXfym^a), which consist in drawing con- 
 clusions which are inconsistent with the conclusions of one'd 
 adversary. v^ 
 
 •N -^ J* 
 
 
 \i 
 
 
 1 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 The special topics of enthymemes will be derived from the 
 special facts of each particular subject. 
 
 But there are common topics belonging to all subjects. 
 
 CHAPTER XXin. 
 
 Aristotle gives a list of 28 topics of demonstrative and refuta- 
 tive enthymemes. 
 
 N.B. Refutative enthymemes are more popular than de- 
 monstrative, as they are conclusions of opposites in a small space. 
 
 But of all enthymemes none are so much applauded as those 
 which, although not being superficial, are immediately intelligible. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 As there are not only true syllogisms but syllogisms which are 
 apparent but not true, it follows that there are apparent as well 
 as true enthymemes. 
 
 Aristotle gives ten topics of apparent enthymemes. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Refutation (XvVtr). 
 
 There are two methods of refutation, viz. : 
 
 (1) by countersyllogism, 
 
 (2) by objection {eparaa-is). 
 
 The topics of countersyllogisms are clearly identical with those 
 of syllogisms. 
 
 Objections are of four kinds, being derivable 
 
 (a) from the enthymeme of one's adversary, 
 
 (b) from antithesis, 
 
 (c) from analogy, 
 
 (d) from a previous decision. 
 
 
 
 L ■- 
 
 i 
 
 -1 
 
 
 \:y 
 
 
 
 
 •^■■■Hki 
 
'f 
 
 ^ y 
 
 \ 
 
 XXXVl 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 Aristotle iUustrates these four kinds of objection. 
 The materials of enthymemes being fourfold 
 viz. probabilities, 
 examples, 
 
 demonstrations (re/e/iifpia), 
 and signs (oTy/icIa), 
 
 enthymemes constructed from probabilities may invariably be 
 refuted by an objection ; but the objection must be more geuerallv 
 true than the fact objected to. 
 
 enthymemes constructed from signs or examples are liable to 
 refutation, although they may be probable. 
 
 It is enthymemes constructed from demonstrations which are 
 irrefutable, unless indeed the fact alleged as a demonstration can 
 1)0 disproved. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 Correction of two possible errors : 
 
 (1) Exaggeration and depreciation (rh a^uv Ka\ finovv) are 
 not elements (crroc^ela) or topics of enthymemes but actual 
 enthymemes tending to show the greatness or smallness of 
 things. 
 
 (2) Refutative enthymemes do not form a species distinct 
 from constructive. 
 
 For refutation must consist either in urging positive proof or 
 m adducing an objection ; 
 
 and in the former case it is proving the opposite of an ad- 
 versary's conclusion, 
 
 and in the latter it is bringing forward an opinion to show 
 tliat the adversary's reasoning is inconclusive or that there is 
 something false in his assumptions. 
 
 The inventive part of Rhetoric may be now said to have 
 received adequate consideration. 
 
 It remains to consider style (Ac|*y) and arrangement (rdf«) 
 
 k. 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 XXXVII 
 
 BOOK III 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 Style. 
 
 It is not enough to know what to say ; it is necessary also to 
 know how to say it. 
 
 The subject admits of three divisions : 
 
 {a) the sources of persuasiveness in facts, 
 {h) the disposition of the facts, 
 {c) declamation (uTro/cpto-t?) ; 
 
 and declamation includes 
 
 (1) the use of the voice, 
 
 (2) the use of the accents or tones {t6vol) 
 
 (3) the use of rhythms. 
 
 Upon declamation no scientific treatise exists. 
 
 The consideration of it is necessary, if only because of the de- 
 praved character of the audience. 
 
 The capacity for declamation is a natural gift, and on its 
 histrionic side is hardly susceptible of artistic treatment. But 
 on its rhetorical side it may be reduced to an art. 
 
 Declamation originated among the poets, who were generally 
 the declaimers of their own tragedies. The consequence wa^ 
 that a poetical style was originally adopted and admired in prose. 
 But the styles of prose and poetry are distinct. 
 
 We confine ourselves therefore to rhetorical style. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 The principal virtues or graces {dp^Tat) of style are 
 
 (1) perspicuity, 
 
 (2) propriety. 
 
 KB. A certain dignity is imparted to style by the use of 
 words which are a Uttle out of the common. Yet upon the whole 
 
 
<iil 
 
 XXXVlll 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 naturalness is persuasive, and artificiality of style is the reverse. 
 Hence the use of rare or foreign words, compound words (dtirXa 
 oi/o/xara), etc. should be sparing. 
 
 Prose admits in general only (1) the proper or ordinary names 
 of things, (2) metaphors. 
 
 Metaphor has been discussed at length in the Poetic. But 
 the use of metaphor is more important to prose than to poetry ; 
 us prose depends for its effect on a smaller number of artistic 
 means. Also metaphors are sources of perspicuity, pleasure and 
 novelty. 
 
 Metaphors, like epithets, must be appropriate ; i.e. they must 
 be (1) proportionate, (2) homogeneous, (3) not farfetched, (4) 
 beautiful in themselves. 
 
 N.B. Good metaphors may be derived from well-constructed 
 
 enigmas. 
 
 The sources of metaphors are such things as are beautiful in 
 sound or suggestiveness or vividness of representation. 
 
 Epithets may be taken either from the lower or from the 
 higher aspect of the things which they describe. Not unlike them 
 in effect are diminutives {viroKopia-fioi). But epithets and diminu- 
 tives must be used with due care. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Faults of taste may occur in four points of style, viz. 
 
 (1) in the use of compound words, 
 
 (2) in the use of rare words, 
 
 (3) in the use of epithets, if they are long or unseasonable 
 or very numerous, 
 
 (4) in the use of metaphors, if they are inappropriate or 
 obscura 
 
 Aristotle quotes instances. 
 
 N.B. Compound words are suited to dithyrambic poetry. 
 Rare words „ „ epic „ 
 
 Metaphors „ „ tragic „ 
 
 ANALYSIS. XXXIX 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The simile is a metaphor with a slight difference. 
 
 Homer's expression " He rushed on like a lion" is a simile. 
 But " He rushed on a very lion," is a metaphor. 
 
 Aristotle quotes instances of simile. 
 
 Metaphors are always convertible into similes, and vice versa. 
 
 N.B. The proportional metaphor must be reciprocally trans- 
 ferable ; if e.g. the goblet is the shield of Dionysus, then the shield 
 may be called the goblet of Ares. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The basis of style is purity of language. 
 
 But purity of language comprises five points, viz. 
 
 (1) the right use of connecting words or clauses ((nJi/Sea/xot), 
 
 (2) the use of proper or special names for things (idta 
 opo^ara) rather than class-names, 
 
 (3) the avoidance of ambiguous terms (dfi(f)i^o\a), 
 
 (4) the observance of the genders of nouns, 
 
 (5) the correct expression of number. 
 
 The composition should be easy to read and — which is the 
 same thing — easy to deliver. Hence it is necessary to avoid (1) 
 obscurity of punctuation, (2) zeugma, (3) parenthesis. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 Dignity of style. 
 
 Aristotle mentions seven contributing causes, viz. 
 
 (1) to employ a definition instead of the simple name of a 
 thing, 
 
 (2) to avoid any foulness of expression by substituting the 
 name for the definition or vice versa, 
 
I1 
 
 I ! 
 
 !l 
 
 \ 
 
 li 
 
 ^ ANALYSIS. 
 
 (3) to use metaphors and epithets as means of elucidaUne 
 the subject, 
 
 (4) to put the Plural for the Singular, 
 
 instead of nyy rjfierfpas ywaiKos, 
 
 (6) to use connecting particles ((ruVSctr/xot), 
 
 (7) to describe a thing by negation. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Propriety. 
 
 The conditions of propriety are 
 
 (1) that the style should be emotional, 
 
 (2) that it should be ethical, 
 
 (3) that it should be proportionate to the subject. 
 
 Appropriateness of language is one means of giving an air of 
 probability to the case. 
 
 It will be emotional (rraOnrcK^) if it is angry, indignant, enthu- 
 siastic, etc according to the subject, and, being so, it will command 
 the sympathy of the audience. 
 
 It will be ethical (rjOiK^) if it is adapted to the character of a 
 particular class or moral state {($ts). 
 
 It will be proportionate, if it is elevated, when the subject is 
 elevated, humble, when it is humble, and so on. 
 ^ Opportuneness (rh .CKatpou) in the use of any rhetorical device 
 13 a riUe belonging equally to all the kinds of Rhetoric. 
 
 The multiplication of compound words or epithets and the use 
 of strange words are most appropriate to the emotional Rhetoric. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The structure of the style should be neither metrical, as it 
 
 s^^ini^n^tr ^^'''^' ^^^ ^^^'^**-^-^^ - '' -^^ ^^- 
 A prose composition should have rhythm, but not metre. 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 Xli 
 
 Of the various possible rhythms ; 
 
 the heroic is too dignified, and it lacks conversational harmony, 
 the iambic is deficient in dignity and impressiveness, 
 the trochaic approximates too much to broad comedy. 
 There remains the paean, which has been used by prose writers 
 from Thrasymachus downwards. But the paean is of two kinds 
 which are respectively suitable to the beginning and the end 
 of sentences. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 The style must be 
 
 (1) either "jointed"' («>m/.^) i.e. a style in which the con- 
 necting particles (aMeafioi) form the only links of the sentence; 
 
 Such is the style of Herodotus ; 
 
 (2) or " compact" (Karea-Tpafifi^vr)) i.e. periodic. 
 
 A period (TTfpiodos) is a sentence which has a beginning and an 
 end m itself and such a magnitude as can be easily comprehended 
 at a glance. 
 
 A periodic style has two advantages, as being (1) agreeable, 
 (2) easily learnt. ' 
 
 But the period should be marked by the completion of the 
 sense as well as of the rh)i;hm. 
 Periods may be 
 
 (1) divided into members or clauses (fV /coJXotr), 
 
 (2) simple (a^eXelj), i.e. consisting of a single member or 
 clause. 
 
 The periods and the members of which they are composed, 
 should be neither too short nor too lono' 
 
 A further division of the periodic style may be made according 
 as Its clauses are (1) simply separate, 
 
 (2) antithetical 
 Aristotle gives several instances of antithetical clauses 
 The agreeableness of an antithetical style lies in its emphatic 
 and syllogistic character. 
 
li. 
 
 xlii 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 xliii 
 
 I!/ 
 
 
 h 
 
 Parisosis is equality of members or clauses. 
 
 Paromoiosis is similarity of extremities, whether the beginnings 
 or the ends of sentences. 
 
 The same sentence may combine Tarious points, e.g. antithesis, 
 parisosis, etc. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Clever sayings (ra darfla). 
 
 Learning without trouble is agreeable to everybody. 
 
 Metaphors and similes, but especially metaphors, are instruc- 
 tive. 
 
 The test of a cleverly constructed enthymeme is its power of 
 conveying rapid instruction. 
 
 Enthymemes are popular 
 
 (1) if their structure is antithetical, 
 
 (2) if their words contain a metaphor which is neither 
 superficial nor far-fetched, 
 
 (3) if they vividly represent the subject to the eye. 
 
 In a word there are three objects to be kept in view, viz. 
 metaphor, antithesis and vividness of representation. 
 
 Metaphors are of four kinds, proportional metaphors being 
 the most popular. 
 
 Aristotle gives various instances of metaphor. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Vividness of representation shows a thing in a state of activity. 
 It may be illustrated by Homer's treatment of inanimate objects 
 as animate. 
 
 Metaphors should be derived from objects which are closely 
 related to the thing itself, but which are not immediately obvious. 
 
 Another instrument of clever sayings is surprise or deception 
 {irapa Trpoa-BoKiau), as it gives people the sense of having learnt 
 something. Hence too the pleasure of good apophthegms, riddles, 
 and puns. 
 
 A proper enunciation is requisite in all such sayings. But 
 their chief merit is their appropriateness to the things described. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 Metaphor, especially proportional metaphor, antithesis, pari- 
 sosis and vividness are all means of giving point to a sentence ; 
 and the larger the number of these means, the more cleverly 
 pointed the sentence appears. 
 
 Similes, as has been said, are always in a sense popular meta- 
 phors. 
 
 Proverbs are metaphors from one species to another. 
 Hyperboles of an approved kind are also metaphors.— There is 
 however a character of juvenility in hyperboles. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 Every kind of Rhetoric has its own appropriate style. 
 
 There is a difference between the literary {ypacfiiKij) and contro- 
 versial (ayayviariKij) styles and in the controversial style between 
 the political {drffirjyopiKij) and forensic {8iKaviKrj). But the 
 rhetorician should be familiar with both. 
 
 It is the literary style which is the most finished and the con- 
 troversial which is the best suited to declamation. 
 
 Controversial oratory is (1) ethical, (2) emotional. 
 
 Hence such artifices as the use of asyndeton and the repetition 
 of the same word, although alien from the literary style, are 
 favourites among controversial orators. 
 
 The style of political oratory resembles scene-painting, for as 
 the view is more distant, where the crowd is greater, a finished 
 style becomes inappropriate. 
 
 The style of forensic oratory, especially when addressed to a 
 single judge, is most finished. 
 
 The epideictic style is best suited to literary purposes. 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 A speech has two parts. It is necessary first to state the case 
 and then to prove it. 
 
 The exposition of the case and the proof— these are the only 
 indispensable parts of a speech. But if more parts are added, 
 they must not exceed four, viz. exordium, exposition, proof and 
 peroration. 
 
xliv 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 The exordium {npooiynov). 
 
 The exordium of a speech corresponds to a prologue in poetry 
 and to a prelude m a musical performance. 
 
 The sources of exordia in epideictie speeches are eulo-y 
 censure, exhortation, dissuasion and appeals to the au.lience 
 ^ihe exordia of forensic speeches resemble the proems of epic 
 
 The exordia of epideictie speeches resemble the proems of 
 dithyrambic poetry. 
 
 The essential function of the exordium is to explain the end 
 or object of tlie speech itself. ' 
 
 Exordia of other kinds, whether derived from the speaker 
 hunself or from the audience or from the subject or from Urn 
 adversary, are merely the means of remedying certain defecU in 
 
 !orrui.f "''' ' ""'^'^ ""' ^ "^''' '^ "'^ '">'1'«'«='= »'=™ not 
 
 nf Jl'Tf "^ T'""^ ''"''''"°" '^''"'8« «^"»"y t» a" tho parts 
 of a speech, perhaps to other parts rather than to the exordium. 
 
 m^!.» f *"•!' "PP^-'P™'" t» «'e exordium may all bo used as 
 means^of oxcfng attention. Ko means however is so effective as 
 
 In the exordia of epideictie speeches the audience should bo 
 led to fancy themselves participators. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Calumny or prejudice (8ia/3oX,{). 
 
 create.'!,!.' 1*°""'^*"' '^^ "'^'' "''•* '^« "^'f"' as means of 
 creatmg or dissipating prejudice. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Narrative (S.ijy^ff.t). 
 
 (1) In epideictie speeches the narrative should bo not con- 
 tinuous but fnigmentary. But if the facU are notorio; U U 
 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 xl 
 
 proper merely to recall them to the memory of the audience ; 
 there is no need to dwell upon them. 
 
 (2) In regard to forensic speeches it is absurd to lay down 
 the rule that the narratire should always be rapid. Here too it is 
 proper to observe the rule of the mean. 
 
 The orator may slip into his narrative anything which tends 
 either to prove his own virtue or to gratify the jury. 
 
 On the side of the defence the narrative part of the speech 
 may be abbreviated, as the facts upon which it turns are already 
 known. 
 
 But the narrative should be ethical ; and it will be ethical 
 (a) if it indicates a moral purpose, 
 
 {b) if it contains such characteristic marks as accompany 
 particular characters, 
 
 (c) if it seems to proceed not from policy but from the 
 heart 
 
 It is possible to derive topics from emotional signs by de- 
 scribing the familiar features of emotion. 
 
 N.B. The narrative should be distributed over the speech. 
 (3) In political speeches, as referring to the future, there 
 is the least room for narration. It can be introduced only because 
 a knowledge of the paat facilitates a judgment of the future. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 Proofs (Tr/oTf if). 
 
 The proofs should be demonstrative {anoheiKriKai). 
 
 In forensic speeches, as there are four points on which the issue 
 may turn, viz. the fact, the injury, the magnitude of the injury or 
 the criminality the proof should be directed to the particular 
 point at issue. 
 
 In epideictie speeches the facts must be generally taken on 
 trust, and amplification {av^rja-is) used to emphasize their moral or 
 utilitarian character. 
 
 In political speeches it must be urged that the policy of one's 
 adversary is impossible or unjust or inexpedient or that it will 
 not have the important results which he anticipates. 
 
xlvi 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 * 
 
 Examples are especially appropriate to political Rhetoric. 
 
 Enthy memos are especially appropriate to forensic Rhetoric. 
 
 The enthymemes, which should be chosen with discrimination, 
 should not be put forward in a continuous series, but intermingled 
 with various other topics. 
 
 Enthymemes are out of place in the pathetic or ethical 
 passages of a speech. 
 
 Maxims, as possessing an ethical character, should be used 
 both in narrative and in proof. 
 
 Pohtical Rhetoric is more diflBcult than forensic, as it relates 
 to the future, and the future cannot be known; nor does it 
 equally allow of digressions or appeals to the emotions. 
 
 In epideictic speeches eulogies should be introduced by way 
 of episodes. 
 
 In default of proofs the speech should be both ethical and 
 demonstrative ; in default of enthymemes it should be exclusively 
 ethical. 
 
 Refutative enthymemes are more popular than demonstrative. 
 
 The reply to the adversary is not a separate branch of the 
 speech. 
 
 The arrangement of the speech will vary according to circum- 
 stances. In deliberative and forensic Rhetoric, if you speak first, 
 you should begin with a statement of your own proofs and then 
 meet the arguments on the other side. (But if the case on the 
 other side is of a varied character, you should begin by meeting 
 the opposing arguments and then make your own statement.) 
 If you speak last, you should begin with the answer to the argu- 
 ments on the other side. 
 
 As to character, things which would be invidious or tedious, 
 if you said them of yourself, or which would be calunmious or 
 coarse, if you said them of others, may be conveniently put into 
 the mouth of a third person. 
 
 Enthymemes should sometimes, by a change of form, be 
 expressed as maxims. 
 
 ANALYSIS. 
 
 xlvii 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 (1) Interrogation (epaJnyo-ty). 
 
 The interrogation of one's adversary is a device which may be 
 opportunely used as a means of landing him in an absurdity or 
 contradiction. 
 
 (2) Reply {djroKpia-is). 
 
 In replying to ambiguous questions it is proper to proceed by 
 distinction or definition, and not to use too concise a mode of 
 expression. Where the adversary's conclusion is put in the form 
 of a question, the reply to the question should be made at once. 
 
 (3) Jokes {to yeXoia). 
 
 It is necessary that they should be such as are suited to 
 gentlemen. 
 
 N.B. Irony (elpapfla) is more gentlemanly (iXevdepKorepov) 
 than buffoonery (/Sw/ioXox/a), as the former is used simply for its 
 \)\m sake and the latter for some ulterior object. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The peroration (cViXoyoy). 
 
 There are four elements of the peroration, viz. 
 
 (1) to inspire the audience with a favourable opinion of 
 oneself and an unfavourable opinion of one's adversary, 
 
 (2) to amplify or depreciate the subject, 
 
 (3) to excite the emotions of the audience, 
 
 (4) to recall the facts to their memory. 
 
 In the recapitulation it is a good rule to repeat the points 
 several times for the sake of intelligibility. 
 
 Comparison, irony, interrogation are all suitable elements 
 of recapitulation. 
 
 An asyndeton forms an appropriate conclusion. 
 
 ■\ 
 
i^a-sUju 
 
 ^y C^jyv-w^ . 
 
 336 -330 r? c . 
 
 THE EHETOEIC OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 Dialectic. 
 
 I 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 dL"\/ Tiir Tp o^ OS 
 
 Rhetoric is a counterpart of Dialectic. For both ch.p i 
 
 wkhrtT™ ''"'' ^"""^ '''''•'""*' ^ ''^» '» ^ sense lES^' 
 within the cognizance of all men, and neither is "'"'""- 
 
 limited to any definite science. Accordingly we are 
 
 g;iH±J§S§&^lialectimaaaudaiMoS 
 
 body essays up to a certain point the criticism and 1 
 
 support of a thesis, defence and accusation. It is ) 
 
 ITk ^^\ T* f ''P'^ ^"^ *•»>« ^'*her without any 
 ^^itt^ f *''■ ^y ^ familiarity which is the result 
 
 these wavstf/,f ^"''''f'' "' ''''^''''^^ '» ^^^h ''--'^ 
 systematized ./'^ '. """"^^ *^"* ^'^^ ^'"^"^ ^^ ^ ^^^ 
 
 «^use8 of such success as is attained by familiarity 
 or at random, and such an investigation will be uni- 
 versally admitted to be essentiaUy rfonction of an 
 3«rt« 
 
 'Aristotle's conception of a W^,^ or art is clearly expressed 
 
 ij 7 
 
 W. R. 
 
 1 
 
 9Sl^- 
 
 I X 
 
 A-*-w C^^^yy\^ - / 
 
 
 C^ 
 
 LA 
 
 <-ptv^t-^' 
 
 / 
 
 r 
 
Criticism of 
 existing 
 rhetorical 
 handbooks. 
 
 V 
 
 >v 
 
 1/ 
 
 ^ 
 
 2 THE RHETORIC [}' 
 
 As it is, the coaipilers of our "'arts" or rhetorical 
 handbooks have supplied but a fragment of an art. 
 For while it is the proofs alone which form the proper 
 subjects of artistic treatment, and everything except 
 the proofs is a mere accessory, they omit all mention of 
 enthymemes^which are the soul of proof, and occupy 
 themselves almost exclusively with such things as lie 
 outside the actual issue. For 'prejudice, compassion, 
 anger and such emotions of the soul have no bearing 
 upon the point at issue; they merely affect the 
 minds of the jury. Our rhetoricians then would not 
 have a word to say, if the practice in all trials were 
 the same as at this moment exists in some few States, 
 especially States which are well ordered ; for it is 
 universally allowed that there ought to be, even if 
 there is not actually, a provision in the laws by which 
 a veto is set upon " travelling out of the record," as 
 e.g. in the Court of Areopagus. There is reason in 
 this practice ; for it is improper to waq> the judg- 
 
 1 The connexion between rex^v and al Hx^ai' rau Xoyav can 
 hardly be preserved in translation. It is well known that tc'xvi; 
 in the language of the rhetoricians came to mean (1) Rhetoric, as 
 the supreme art, (2) a rhetorical treatise or handbook. (Dr 
 Thompson's Gorgias of Plato, Introduction, p. v.) The Latin 
 writers ITse ars in much the same sense, e.g. Juvenal Sat. vii. 177, 
 artem scindes Theodori, where see Prof. Mayor's note. 
 
 2 Nothing can be clearer than that dia^okjj is here in Aristotle's 
 view a irdeos rrjs ylrvxvs. When Spengel says dia^oKri " non est 
 quidem nddos sed efficit ndBos" he separates it generically from 
 TKfos (compassion) and ofyyij (anger) with which it is joined. 
 Perhaps it has the sense not of 8ia^ak\(iv but of dia^oXXecr^at, 
 and means a " prejudice" or " preconceived hostility." Cp. p. 64, 
 L 6, where opyiy, cTn^pcac/ioff, dia^Xij are described as iroirjfTiKl 
 
 txBpO'i* 
 
 *• -»-.-, 
 
 ~'f- 
 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 3 
 
 ment of a juror by exciting him to anger or jealousy 
 or compassion, as this is like making the rule, which 
 one is going to use, crooked. It is evident too that 
 one who is a party to a l^gal suit has nothing to do 
 except to show that the feet alleged is or is not so, 
 or hW or has not occurred, and that its magnitude 
 or triviality, its justice or injustice, except in cases 
 where the legislator has determined this, is a 
 point which the juror should presumably decide for 
 himself and not learn from the statements of the 
 parties. 
 
 It is best, we may observe, where the laws Reasons for 
 
 , , preferring 
 
 are enacted upon right principles, that everything the autho- 
 should, as far as possible, be determined absolutely laws to the 
 by the laws, and as little as possible left to the dis- particular 
 cretion of the judges. For in the first place it is 
 easier to find an individual or a few than a number 
 of people who are sensible and capable of exercising 
 legislative and judicial functions ; and secondly, while • 
 legislative enactments are the results of mature de- 
 liberation, judicial decisions are given on the spur of 
 the moment, so that it is difficult for the judges in 
 particular cases duly to deliver such a sentence as is 
 just and expedient. But the point of principal im- 
 portance is this ; that, while the legislator's decision 
 is not particular but prospective and universal, the 
 members of the Public Assembly or the Court of 
 Law from the nature of the case decide upon actual 
 definite issues, in which feelings of afiection or ill- 
 will and private interests are necessarily often 4n- 
 
 ^ Reading a-vvrjpTrfTcu,^ which has the support of the Vetusta 
 Translatio (ad quos...annexa sunt) and agrees better than avvrjpi]- 
 
 1—2 
 
7 
 
 f 
 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [t 
 
 yolved, so that they lose the power of adequately 
 studying the truth, and their judgment is clouded 
 by a consideration of their personal pleasure or pain. 
 It is then, as we say, a general rule that we 
 should limit as far as possible the authority of the 
 judge. But such questions as whether a feet has~or 
 /has not occurred in the past, or will or will not be so 
 / m the future or is or is not so at present, are neces- 
 sarily left to the decision of the judges, as they lie 
 y beyond the prescience of the legislator. This Tieing 
 -the case, it is clear that to lay down definite rules, a» 
 IS sometimes done, upon a number of other points, 
 e.g. upon the proper contents of the exordium, tiie 
 narrative or any other part of a speech, is to make an 
 art of things which are foreign to the issue ; for the 
 authors of such rules have no other object than to 
 produce a certain disposition in the judge, while they 
 give no explanation of the 'artistic proofs, which are 
 the materials of all enthymematic reasoning. 
 . Ae Hence it is that, although the same mode of treat- 
 Jubler" ment is applicable to the oratory of public life and to 
 p^ that of the Law Courts, and the study of political 
 i«u.db«oks. oratory is more elevated and statesmanlike than a 
 study which limits itself to the ordinary dealings of 
 man with man, they disregard political oratory alto- 
 gether and set themselves with one consent to make 
 
 ra. with Aristotle's usage. (See the Indeu; Arutotelicm of Bonite 
 
 8. V. (rvvaprav,) 
 
 ^ ' Aristotle is scarcely justified in using the expressions at 
 ^PTfXPoi TTtcTTf iff and €uev^ir)t,aTiK6s, as if they would be intelligible 
 at this point of his treatise. It is not until the second chapter that 
 he defines them. 
 
 p. 11. 
 
 p. 13. 
 
 Forensic 
 rhetoric the 
 
 »._ 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 an art of pleading in Court, because it does not 
 pay so well to " travel out of the record " in political 
 questions, and political oratory, as 'involving wider 
 interests, offers fewer opportunities of chicanery. For 
 while in politics, where the judges are personally in- 
 t^reste d in the questio ns whiclTcoinenSeforelhem, all 
 "njaTtlglMlQcaje^ j ^cer^^ do h t o 
 
 d emonstrate that the^cts are as heane^s Tlg^fer^ 
 ensic cases such a procedurels insufficient,"anariri8 
 worth while to conciliate the audience. For as they 
 have no personal interest in the decision, they con- 
 sider their own gratification and, as they do not listen 
 to the case impartially, are carried away by the parties 
 instead of judging between them. The result is that 
 there are many places, as we said before, where the p. 2. 
 law forbids all "travelling out of the record." In 
 political matters however the judges themselves look 
 to this sharply enough. 
 
 Itjs^clearjhe n that iho only pro per subjects of Riet* 
 artistic, treatment are proofs. But proof is a species 
 oFdemonstration ' (for we regard a demonstration as 
 the highest form of proof), and a rhetorical demon- 
 
 * It seems clear from the following words {ivravBa fiev yap 
 o KpiTTii 7r€p\ olKfloiv Kpivfi) that KoivoTepov Tefcrs to the personal 
 interest of the audience collectively in the subjects of political 
 debate. The jury, who would be the audience in a legal case, 
 would not be personally interested in its result. But it is to be 
 noticed that the iKKXrja-uKrrai as well as the biKaaral are called 
 Kpirai or judges of the arguments addressed to them. 
 
 2 The alleged reason is in fact little more than another way of 
 saying ij maris dnodei^is ris ; but it would be more natural to 
 argue that demonsti-ation is a species of proof than that proof is a 
 species of demonstration. 
 
 ^ma* 
 
 mAm 
 
 I'l "il^ 
 
; , .V 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I. 
 
 ^ 
 
 m^i 
 
 stration takes the form of an enthymeme, which may 
 be^broadlyjleg cribed as the most powerfiiT form of 
 The^enthy. rhetorical^proSr-A^nvffirenlfiynreTiie-ts a species 
 j of syllogism, and it falls within the province of Dia- 
 lectic, either as a whole or in some one of its branches, 
 to make a complete examination of the syllogism in 
 all Its forms. 'From all this it appears that the 
 most competent judge of the materials and con- 
 structive principles of a syllogism will also be the 
 most complete master of enthymemes, if only he is 
 further acquainted with the proper subjects of enthy- 
 
 II no n 1^1 '"T.f ^^^ '''^^ ^^^ differences between enthymemes 
 " \t^,J^'^'<'%^nd logical syllogisms. For as it is the same faculty 
 
 which discerns what is true and what resembles truth 
 and as men have a sufficient natural aptitude for 
 truth and m a majority of instances attain it, it 
 tollows that the most sagacious judge of truth will 
 be at the same time the most sagacious judge of 
 .probabilities. 
 
 Although it is clear then that the matters, which 
 all other writers upon Rhetoric reduce to an art, are 
 irrelevant to the issue, and it is clear why they have 
 inchned by preference to forensic oratory, still Rhe- 
 toric IS not without its value. It is vcdiuible,JirsUy 
 because truth and justice possess a natural superiority 
 
 ' The Msa reading ^\ou &' Sn may be retained, if the »i 
 .8 regarded as apodotic. It is in Aristotle's manner to build up 
 
 ^Kfon * '"""'^'' "^ "''"^'' ""' "" ^'*"*''^ "'fl"enciDg the 
 ' The Xoy«ir <r«XXoy.o-^<5f, which is complete in all its parts is 
 here opposed to the .Vd)v„^„, which is an imperfect or rhetorical 
 syllogism. 
 
 The four 
 uses of 
 Rhetoric, 
 
 i 
 
 ( 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 7 
 
 to their opposites, and therefore, if judgments are 
 not given as they should be, it must be the speakers 
 themselves who are responsible for the defeat; and 
 this is itself a state of things which is reprehen- 
 sible. Secondly, there are audiences which, even if 
 we possess the most exact scientific knowledge, it 
 is not easy to persuade by scientific arguments. 
 For scientific argument implies instruction; but it 
 is impossible to instruct such people as we are 
 supposing, and we necessarily find the instruments 
 of our proofs and arguments in the generally ac- 
 cepted notions of mankind, as we remarked in the 
 * TojjicSy in discussing the ^method of dealing with 
 ordinary people. Again, in Rhetoric no less than 
 in syllogistic reasoning i tJis^- dglit^ to be capabl e of 
 arguing on both sides of a case, not for the sake 
 of doing both (arwe Iiave no right to argue in favour 
 of anything that is wrong), but that the true state 
 of the case may not escape us and that, iranotTier, 
 party makes an unfair use of his arguments, we 
 may be able in our turn to refute them. There is 
 
 ^ Aristotle uses "instruction" {didaa-KaXia) in a special sense, 
 as implying exact or syllogistic proof. See the passage quoted by 
 Mr Cope in his Introduction, p. 75, ntpi a-ocfyiaTiK^v iktyxoav, 
 p. 165 Agg — Bj, where after dividing ol eV roJ Sidkcyea-dai Xoyoi 
 into four classes, Sidaa-KaXiKol koi BiakfKTLKol Kol TTHpaa-TiKol Koi 
 €pi(rTiKoiy Aristotle adds 8iBa(rKaXiKoi fifv oi €K rav oIk€lcdp dp^av 
 fKaoTov pjxBripxtTos kclI €K tcoi/ tov aTTOKpivopevov do^av crvWoyt- 
 
 ^6fl€VOl. 
 
 2 ToTTlKa i. Ch. 2, p. 101, A3o_34. 
 
 3 €VTfv^is passes from the sense of "intercourse" in general 
 to "specially dialectical or argumentative intercourse," as the 
 passages quoted by Mr Cope seem to show. 
 
/ 
 
 
 8 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 / 
 
 The func- 
 tion Of 
 Rhetoric. 
 
 I 
 
 [I- 
 
 no art, it may be observed, w hich p ossesses this cha- 
 rg^rM€_ji/Ubca;s^^ conclusions 
 
 mlth equal ease, except Dialectic and Rhetoric, 
 which are both equally ready to take opposite sides. 
 Still it is not the fact that the subject-matter is 
 indifferent to them; on the contrary whatever 
 is jrue or expedient may: be said ^engrajly to be 
 al ^sTn its nature more easily sus ceptible of proof 
 and more persuasive. Lastly, it would be a paradox" 
 that theii^^sh ould-lje-TOmething jis gr aceful in the 
 inabilitylorHefend oneself by bodily strength, and 
 ^IJtiirthe-MmbiKty to defend oneself by speech, when 
 speech is more characteristic of man than the use 
 of the body. And if it is urged that the unjust use 
 of this rhetorical faculty would be exceedingly mis- 
 chievous to the worid, this is a charge which may 
 be brought against all good things, save virtue only, 
 and most of all against the things of highest utility] 
 such as strength, health, riches and military skiU, 
 which may all prove the greatest blessings in the 
 hands of one who uses them with justice, and the 
 greatest curses in the hs^nds of one who uses them 
 unjustly. 
 
 'It is evident then that Rhetoric is not limited 
 to a particular definite class of subjects, but like 
 Dialectic is universally applicable, and that it has 
 certain uses whi^^h liave already been described, *It^ 
 
 ^ Of the three points which are here said to be "evident," 
 the first and second have been already made good ; the third 
 is new. 
 
 2 Aristotle is glancing at the passage in Plato's Gorgias, where 
 Socrates says to Gorgias c? r* .V« oruwV*, Xeyc*. on nuBov, 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 
 ■•] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 i s evident a lso t hat its function is not to persuad 
 bu^jo_disco ver the available means of persua^i 
 in any subject ^jd^m^thisr^^ 
 ^j^^^^^er^arte. iFis^nJoTflielunc ^^ 
 if ^^ojjestore^^ but only- _ 
 
 >»gjHml toas high ^ jpoiiiTonh ealth as possible] 
 for even people who can never possibly recover their 
 health may still be scientifically treated. Further, it 
 is evident that it falls within the scope of the same 
 art to di8cenLihe_j:eaLand^^ 
 means of persuasion, as in Dialectic the real and the 
 apparent syllogism. For it is not the faculty but 
 the moral purpose which constitutes the sophistical 
 character. But there is this 'difference between Rhe- 
 torw and Dialectk, that, while in the former the 
 name "rhetorician" is descriptive either of the science 
 or of the moral purpose, there is in the latter the 
 name "sophist" to describe the moral purpose, and 
 '* dialectician" to describe not the purpose but the 
 faculty. 
 
 But it is now time to endeavour to state the 
 actual system, or in other words the means and 
 materials which will enable us to attain the objects 
 
 aiy/xioi;py(59 eWti/ ij piyroptK,,', Ka\ ^ Trpayfiareia airfjs ^rraaa Ka\ t6 
 K€<l>dKaiop «V roCro r«Xfura, p. 453 A. But the definition of 
 Rhetonc as ncidovs 8rjfiiovpy6s is said not to have been Plato's 
 own, but to have descended from Corax and Tisias or Isocrates 
 (Dr Thompson's note ad loc.). 
 
 1 The point, which is somewhat obscurely put, seems to be 
 this: There are sophistical rhetoricians as well as sophistical 
 dialecticians ; but while the latter are called by the special name 
 of " sophists," the former, having no special name, are simply called 
 ** rhetoricians." 
 
 The 
 
 fallacious 
 branch of 
 Rhetoric. 
 
10 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 illi 
 
 , I 
 
 proposed. Let us start afresh then, as it were, and 
 before we proceed, define the actual nature of Rhe- 
 toric itself. 
 
 iS^r.io" rC^-^*''"*' "^y ^ ^®*"«<* ^ a faculty of discovering 
 ,«{ Ehetori^l the possible means of persuasion in any subje^. 
 >«f this IS exclusively the function of Rhetoric iii 
 p r. every other art, 'whether instructive or persuasive 
 
 deals with a subject-matter peculiar to itself, Medi- 
 cine e.g. with the conditions of health and disease, 
 Geometry with the properties of magnitudes, Arith- 
 metic with number, and so on through the list of 
 arts and sciences. Rhetoric on the other hand may 
 ^ be said to possess the faculty of discovering the 
 
 means of persuasion in any given subject ; and ac- 
 cordingly we hold that the rules of the rhetorical 
 art arc not limited in their application to a certain 
 jspecial definite class of subjects. 
 
 Rhetorical proofs are either artistic or inartistic 
 By "inartistic proofs" I mean all such as are SoT 
 provided by our own skill but existed before and 
 independently, e.g. witnesses, tortures, contracts and 
 the like; by "artistic," such as admit of being con- 
 structed systematically and by our own skill- in 
 fine the former we have^only to apply and the latter 
 we have to invent 
 
 "The proofs provided through the instrumentality 
 
 ' The distinction between arts as "instructive" or "persuasive " 
 i.e. in other words as exact or inexact, depends upon the special 
 sense in which Aristotle uses " instruction." See note on ch i 
 
 Cp. Plato Gorgim, p. 455 a, o^' Spa &«a«aX«« 6 p^T,op .Vri 
 a«<.<TT,p<o,y, Kac T&v SKK^v SxX<o„ d,Kai,ov « «>. Kal dSU,ou, aXXA 
 
 n€l<TTlKOS fiOVOV. 
 
 
 Rhetorical 
 proofs. 
 (1) inar- 
 tistic. 
 
 (2) artistic. 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 //■^^ 
 
 / 
 
 *v,^ 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 11 
 
 pf the spee ch are of three kinds, conskting either 
 in the morar character o f th e speaker or m the pr<> 
 Suction of a certain disposition in the audience or 
 
 J- 
 
 / 
 
 •^ i n the speecli itseit by mea ns of real or apparen t 
 demonstration. The instrument of proof is the moral 
 character, when the delivery of the speech is such \i^ 
 as to produce an impression of the speaker's credi- 
 bility; for we yield a more complete and ready 
 credence to persons of high character not only ordi- 
 narily and in a genei*al way, but in such matters as 
 do not admit of absolute certainty but necessarily 
 leave room for difference of opinion, without any 
 qualification whatever. (It Js_i2quisitehoweyer_^^ 
 this result should itself be attalnednBy^neans of the 
 speecITand not of any antecedent conception of the 
 speaker's character.) For so far from following the 
 example of some authors of rhetorical handbooks, 
 who in their "art" of Rhetoric regard the high 
 character of the speaker as not being itself in any 
 sense contributory to his persuasiveness, we may 
 practically lay it down as a geneml rule that-there 
 is no proof so effectiveasjthat of the ch aract^er. 
 Secondty, proof may be conveyed through the au- 
 dience, when it is worked up by the speech to an 
 emotional state. For there is a wide difference in our 
 manner of pronouncing decisions, according as we 
 feel pleasure or pain, affection or hatred ; and indeed 
 
 thev^3j:^ii^--4^f.JiSm]^^!}^ W^*^ ^^^ ^'motiom is, as we p 2 
 assert, the one end oF object to which our present 
 professors of the rhetorical art endeavour to direct 
 their studies. This is a part of the subject which 
 will be elucidated in detail, when we come to discuss 
 
// 
 
 f> 
 
 \ 
 
 12 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 y the emotions. Lastly, Hhe instrument of proof is 
 
 /I the speech itself, when we have proved a truth or 
 
 M an * apparent truth from such means of persuasion 
 
 1 as are appropriate to a particular subject 
 
 quaiifica- Such being then the channels of rhetorical proofs, 
 
 rhetorician, it is evident that no one can make himself master 
 
 of airtliree, unless he is competent to reason logically, 
 
 to^^flJlEuman^characters and virtues, and thirdly to 
 
 study the natureancTquality of the several emotions, 
 
 the sourcesTrom which th^~8pring and the metliods 
 
 Relation of of cxcitiug them. It follows that Rhetoric is, so to 
 
 Rhetonc to ^ o -r^* ^ * i » 
 
 SidE^iT say, an oiishoot of Dialectic on the otie hand and 
 ^ ' on the other of the study of Ethics ^ which may 
 
 fairly be described as political. Hence it is that 
 Rhetoric and its professors assume the mask of 
 Politics, whether from ignorance or imposture or 
 any other human infirmity. For it is really a branch 
 or copy of Dialectic, as we said at the outset, neither 
 being a science which deals with the constitution 
 of any definite subject-matter, but both being mere 
 faculties of supplying arguments. 
 
 Enough has perhaps been said as to the faculty 
 and mutual relations of Rhetoric and Dialectic. 
 But taking the proofs conveyed by real or ap- 
 parent demonstration, we find that^ as in Dia- 
 
 * Omitting marfvovaiv. 
 
 ^ There is no need to insert dXrjdfi after (f>aiv6n€voif as in 
 Bekker's text ; see e.g. p. 25, 1. 22 dyae6v ^ fniCovy p. 37, 1. 13 rau 
 Xxmrjpav r) (f)aivo^€P(ov. 
 
 3 The view of Politics as the architectonic science, embracing 
 Ethics as a subordinate or ancillary science, is expomided in 
 Nicom. Eth. i. ch. 1. 
 
 p. 1. 
 
 ) 
 
 
 I-J 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 13 
 
 lectics there are three modes of proof, viz. induction, 
 syllogism and apparent syllogism, so in Rhetoric 
 there is the example corresponding to induction, the Example 
 enthymeme to syllogism and the apparent enthymeme meme. 
 to apparent syllogism. I call an enthymeme a rhe- 
 torical syllogism and an example a rhetorical in- 
 duction. Thejiniv£i:sal4tteaQa..o£^iemon strative proof 
 in Rliet oric are examples or enthymem es, and there 
 is no other; hence if it is assumed tolBe absolutely 
 necessary that ^ whatever is proved should be proved 
 either by syllogism or by induction — and this we see 
 clearly from the * Analytics — it is a necessary con- 
 clusion that the enthymeme and example are respec- 
 tively identical with the syllogism and induction. 
 The difference between example and enthymeme on 
 tJie one hand and induction and syllogism on the 
 other is clear from the ^Topics, For as syllogism 
 and induction have been already discussed, it is clear 
 
 ^ The words fj otn-ivovv are rightly omitted in Bekker after 
 oTiovv ; they are at best, I think, nothing more than a marginal 
 note, showing that either onovv or ovrivovv would make good 
 sense. 
 
 2 There are several passages of the Analyticft which may have 
 been in Aristotle's mind, as Mr Cope says (Introduction, p. 153) ; 
 perhaps the clearest is Analyt. Pri. ii. ch. 23, p. 68 Bg_i4. 
 
 3 The meaning, as Mr Cope saw, should be not so much that 
 tlie difference is stated in the ToniKo. as that it may be inferred 
 from the definitions of syllogism and induction given in the Toitlko. 
 A syllogism is there defined as Xoyo? h a r^divrav nvav erepov 
 Ti rav K€ifX€va}if €^ avayKTjs (rvfi^aivfi 8ia rav K(tn€va>v, Bk i. ch. 1, 
 p. 100 A25; an induction as »; dn6 tu)V Kaff eKaarov eVi ra KadoKov 
 €<f>oiosy Bk i. ch. 12, p. 105 a^^. But the passage remains obscure, 
 unless €Kfi is altered to (ntl, and <j>avfp6v supplied before ort to 
 fA€v eVt iroWav koi ofioitov deiKwadai on ovras tx€i. 
 
 -«M* 
 
- ^ — i, . 
 
 14 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I. 
 
 that the proving of a rule in a number of similar 
 instances is an induction in Dialectic and an example 
 m Rhetoric, while the conclusion from certain pre- 
 misses that something else which is different from 
 them results as a consequence of them by reason 
 of their being what they are, whether universally 
 or generally, is caUed a syllogism in Dialectic and 
 an enthymeme in Rhetoric. It is clear that there 
 IS an advantage in either kind of Rhetoria For the 
 remark which has been made in the 'Methodics is 
 not less applicable here ; there are some rhetorical 
 efforts in which the example and others in which 
 the enthymeme predominates, and rhetoricians are 
 similarly distinguishable by a predilection for the 
 one or the other. It may be added that speeches 
 which make use of examples are fully as persuasive 
 as the others, but enthymematic speeches are more 
 applauded. The sources of examples and enthy- 
 memes and the proper uses of them both w^T^^" 
 stateniereafter. Let us now however define more 
 explicitly these logical processes themselves. 
 
 'Persuasiveness then is a relative conception, and 
 
 a fact 18 persuasive and credible either immediately 
 
 and in its own strength or as seeming to be proved 
 
 Theiimita- by facts which are persuasive and credible. But no • 
 
 Rhetoric, art takcs particular cases into consideration. Thus 
 
 ' A logical treatise of Aristotle, now lost. 
 
 M have broken up the long protasis of the sentence : for the 
 conck8.on oiiij fi^op^ rt, .aff «a<^„. |.8„|,, e..f,^.,. follows 
 not from all the three preceding clauses, but, as Mr Cope says, 
 from the third only, or perhaps more accurately from the first and 
 third. 
 
 D- 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 15 
 
 Medicine does not consider what is wholesome to 
 Socrates or Callias as individuals but what is whole- 
 some to a person or persons of a certain constitution ; 
 for it is this generalization which is characteristic of 
 an art, whereas particulars are infinite in number and 
 cannot be known. Similarly Rhetoric will not in- 
 vestigate what is probable to each individual, as e.g. 
 to Socrates or Hippias, but what is probable to 
 persons of a certain character ; and the same is true of 
 Dialectic. Both are pra^ticcdly limited in respect of 
 tJie subjects with ivhich they deal. For Dialectic no 
 less than Rhetoric does not employ any and all opinions 
 indiscriminately as materials of syllogisms (for even 
 people who are out of their minds have certain 
 fancies) ; but the materials of Dialectic are such sub- 
 jects as need discussion, and those of Rhe toric are 
 the ordinary and recognized subjects of deliberation. 
 The function of Rhetoric is limited to matters about 
 which we deliberate *and do not possess artistic rules 
 for our guidance in determining them, and the 
 audience to which it addresses itself consists of per- 1' 
 sons wlio are nnaVJp fn pnmpvAhArifi a uumbcr or 
 arguments in asin gle view or to follow ou t a long] 
 ^ain of reaioningr Now the proper subjects of de- 
 liberation are such as appear to admit of two possi- 
 bilities; for if things cannot possibly either have 
 happened or happen or be otherwise than in one par- 
 ticidar way, nobody deliberates about them, at least 
 upon that supposition, i,e, so long as he regards them 
 as absolutely certain; for what would be the advan- 
 
 ^ The rules of medicine, e.g., would not be the proper subjects 
 ^ of rhetorical argument. - — — . ' ^ 
 
 i» *1L — — ^ / - 
 
 % 
 
 
 *- V v_^ 'C- VJS. 
 
 ._ V-A^'V,^^ ' V—- •~" ■" ^~>* 
 
 — 0^ cy-iA - '^«-trl 
 
 '*~.#.~^' 
 
I. 
 
 
 16 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 tage of deliberation ? (But the materials of syllogistic 
 and inferential reasoning may be either the actual 
 conclusions of previous syllogisms or propositions 
 which have not been syllogistically proved and at 
 the same time need such proof, as lacking probability. 
 \o ^ Syllogisms of the first class will be necessarily diflScult 
 to follow from their length, as the judge is assumed 
 to be a simple sort of person ; and those of the second 
 class will fail to carry conviction, as the premisses 
 on which they rest are neither practically admitted 
 Inor intrinsically probable.) *We conclude then that 
 the enthymeme and example are necessarily applied 
 to such things as are in general indeterminate; the 
 T^eenthy- example being an induction and the enthymeme 
 a syllogism, with its constituent parts only few 
 and generally fewer than those of the * primary or 
 normal syllogism ; for if one of them is well known, 
 it need not be stated, as the audience supplies it 
 of its own accord. If we wish e.g. to prove that 
 Dorieus has been victorious in a contest in which 
 the prize of victory is a crown, it is enough to say 
 that he has won an Olympic victory ; there is no need 
 to add that the prize of an Olympic contest is a 
 crown, as the fact is universally known. 
 
 * The conclusion is not justified by the sentences which im- 
 mediately precede it, but follows as a natural consequence from 
 11« 4 — 6, ^vXevofifOa de ntpi rav <f>aivofi€v<ov ivbixtadai dficfxyrtpm^ 
 (X^iv K.T.X. Accordingly I regard the intervening sentences as 
 parenthetical, and should put a full stop, instead of a comma, 
 after h86^a)v. 
 
 2 For the primary syllogism, or syllogism of the first figure, 
 see Analyt. PrL L ch. 4, or Crete's Aristotle^ vol. i. pp. 213 
 —221. 
 
 1 1 
 
 !•] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 17 
 
 *The propositions then which are the materials The mate- 
 of rhetorical syllogisms are seldom necessary. The thymemes. 
 ordinary subjects of our judgments and investi- 
 gations are indeterminate ; for it is human action 
 which is the sphere of deliberation and inquiry ; and 
 all such action is of an indeterminate character, it 
 may be said to be practically never necessary. 
 Further, the premisses of such conclusions as are 
 generally true or only possible must themselves be 
 general and possible, and those of necessary con- 
 clusions necessary, as in fact we saw in the ^Ana- 
 lytics, It is evident then from these considerations 
 that the propositions which form the materials of 
 enthymemes, although sometimes they are necessary, 
 are for the most part only generally true. For the 
 materials of enthymematic reasonmg are probabilities Probabiu- 
 and signs ; and *it follows that these are respectively and demon- 
 identical with the propositions which are generally 
 and necessarily true. A probability is something 
 that usually happens, although the definition must 
 
 ^ This is another case in which there is no strict conclusion 
 from the protasis ; the conclusion is in fact only a re-statement of 
 part of the protasis. 
 
 ^ The reference is to Analyt. Pri. i. ch. 8, p. 29 829-35. 
 
 • This clause, if I rightly understand it, is somewhat incorrectly 
 expressed. It is true that the materials of enthymemes may be 
 described either as signs (oTy/xeta) and probabilities (fi/cora), or as 
 propositions which are sometimes necessarily and sometimes only 
 generally true. But the inference that the signs are the necessary, 
 and the probabilities the generally true propositions is an unsound 
 one. For although the probabilities are never necessary, the signs 
 may be either necessary {rfKfiijpia) or not. 
 
 As to fiKosy a-rififlov and TCKfirfpiov^ see Mr Cope's Introd. pp. 
 160—163 and Analyt. Pri. ii. ch. 27. 
 
 W. R. 2 
 
 / 
 
 k 
 
i 
 
 ( 
 
 \\ 
 
 18 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 not be stated, as it sometimes is, without qualifica- 
 tion, but something that usually happens in such 
 matters as are indeterminate ; and it stands to the 
 thing which is to be proved in the relation of the 
 universal to the particular. A sign on the other 
 hand bears to the thing which is to he proved the 
 relation either of an individual to the universal or 
 of an universal to the particular. Such signs as are 
 necessary or conclusive are called 'demonstrations ; 
 the others have no distinctive name. By " necessary 
 signs " I mean the propositions of which a syllogism 
 in its strict seme is composed. Hence a sign of this 
 kind is called a demonstration ; for it is when we 
 suppose the statement we make to be irrefutable that 
 we think we adduce a demonstration, meaning that 
 it has been logically proved and concluded, as 
 demonstration and conclusion are in old parlance 
 identical It would be a case of a sign standing to 
 the thing ivhlch is to he proved in the relation of 
 the individual to the universal, if one were to urge 
 e. g. as a sign that the wise are just, " Socrates was 
 wise and just." This is a sign, but it may be refuted, 
 even if the fact alleged is true ; for it is incapable 
 of expression in the form of a syllogism. But such 
 a statement as " A person is feverish ; therefore 
 he is ill," or "A woman is giving milk; therefore 
 
 1 The Greek word is rcK/xiipta, which is rendered "infallible 
 proofs," as is well known, in Acts of the Apostles i. 3. 
 
 '^ It is difficult in translation to preserve the point that rUtiap 
 or, as it is in Homer, rUynop (which is here identified with 
 T€Kfiijpiov) means (1) a limit or conclusion, (2) a demonstrative sign 
 or demonstration. 
 
 
 \ 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 19 
 
 she has lately become a mother," is an instance of 
 a necessary sign. This is the only kind of sign which 
 is a demonstration, as it is the only one which, if 
 true, is irrefutable. As an instance of a sign which 
 stands to the thing to he proved in the relation of 
 the universal to the particular, one may say, "It 
 is a sign that so-and-so has a fever ; his breathing 
 is hard." This again however admits of refutation, 
 even if it is true ; for a person may breathe heavily 
 without having a fever. 
 
 The nature of a probability, a sign and a demon- 
 stration, and the difference between them have been 
 here stated ; but a more explicit description of them 
 and of the reason why some of them can and others 
 cannot be expressed in the form of syllogisms will 
 be found in the ^Analytics. 
 
 As to the example, we have stated that it is an Example. 
 induction and have described the character of the p is- 
 subjects with which it deals. Tt stands to the thing 
 which is to he proved in the relation not of pai-t 
 to whole nor of whole to part nor of whole to whole, 
 but of part to part, of similar to similar, and is 
 employed when both the example and the thing ex- 
 emplified fall under the same general head, but the 
 one is more familiar than the other. Thus, if we 
 are arguhig that Dionysius in asking for his body- 
 guard has a design of attempting to gain tyrannical 
 power, tve may urge that Pisistratus once asked for 
 a bodyguard with this design and, as soon as he had 
 obtained it, made himself tyrant, and that the same 
 was true of Theagenes at Megara ; in fact every other 
 
 ^ Analyt. Pri. ii. ch. 27. 
 
 2—2 
 
20 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 case with which we are acquainted constitutes an 
 example applicable to Dionysius, whose object in 
 making this request is not yet known to us. All these 
 are instances falling under the same universal rule, 
 viz. that a person who aspires to tyrannical power 
 asks for a bodyguard. 
 
 So much then for the materials of the proofs 
 which are commonly regarded as demonstrative. But 
 in the case of enthymemes there is a most important 
 distinction, which is equally true of the dialectical 
 system of syllogisms, although it has been practically 
 almost entirely overlooked. It is that some enthy- 
 memes are proper to Rhetoric, *as some syllogisms to 
 Dialectic, and othei*s to other arts and faculties, whether 
 actually existing or not yet established. Accordingly 
 Rhetoricians ignore this distinction and, in proportion 
 as they handle subjects in the manner of specialists, 
 over-step the province of Rhetoric or Dialectic. But 
 the point will be clearer, if I express it at greater 
 Topics, length. I mean that the proper subjects of dialectical 
 
 general and j i . . , ,i . i . 
 
 special. auQ Hietorical syllogisms are the topics, as we call them 
 par excellence^ i.e. such as are equally suitable to 
 questions of justice, physics or politics, and to many 
 questions of many different kinds. Such is e.g. the 
 topic of "the more or less," or of degree^ which will 
 serve equally well to construct a syllogism or enthy- 
 meme about justice, physics or anything else, although 
 these are subjects differing in kind. Special topics on 
 the other hand are such as spring from the propositions 
 appropriate to a particular species or class of subjects. 
 
 ^ Omitting ^tOohov ra>v a-vWoyiafiav. 
 2 Omitting tovs uKpoaras. 
 
 r 
 
 i 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 21 
 
 Thus there are propositions in physics from which 
 it is impossible to form an enthymeme or syllogism 
 upon ethics, ethical propositions again from which 
 it is impossible to form an enthymeme or syllogism 
 upon physics, and so on through the whole range 
 of subjects. The general topics, as having no special 
 subject-matter, will not convey a practical knowledge 
 of any class of subjects. But in regard to the special 
 topics it may be remarked tJud, in proportion as a 
 rhetorician is specially skilful in the choice of his 
 propositions, he will imperceptibly construct a science 
 different from Dialectic and Rhetoric ; for if he lights 
 upon first principles, i,e, the principles or axioms of 
 the special seienceSy it will cease to be Dialectic or 
 Rhetoric and will be the science to which the prin- 
 ciples in question belong. The materials of enthy- 
 memes however are in the great majority of cases the 
 particular and private topics, comparatively seldom 
 the common ones. Accordingly here as well as in 
 the Topics it is necessary to draw a distinction be- 
 tween the special and general topics from which 
 enthymemes may be derived. I mean by special 
 topics such propositions as are proper to a particular 
 class of subjects, and by general topics such as are 
 common to all alike. We will begin then with a 
 discussion of the special topics. But let us first 
 ascertain the different kinds of Rhetoric, that after 
 determining their number we may ascertain the 
 * elements and propositions of each separately. 
 
 * What is meant by an "element" {(rroixfiov) of Rhetoric is 
 clear from il ch. 22, where Aristotle says (rroixelov Se Xcyw koi 
 
 ^■* 
 
1/ 
 
 \ 
 
 Chap. III. 
 
 The three 
 kinds of 
 Rhetoric. 
 
 The subdi- 
 visions of 
 each. 
 
 22 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 There are three kinds of Rhetoric, corresponding 
 to the three kinds of audience to which speeches are 
 naturally addressed. For a speech is composed of 
 three ele ments, viz. tlTe^ speaker ^ic a ub iect of the 
 sp PecIPa n d the persons ad 4feaaed^_aB d the end or 
 
 hject oL lhe speech is det ermined by the last, viz. 
 
 the audience. Audiences"^afe~Tiecessarily either 
 
 [cities or judges ; and if the latter, they may be judges 
 
 ^f things lying either in the past or in the future, 
 member of the Public Assembly may be taken 
 
 LS an instance of a judge of the future, a member of 
 the Courts of Law as an instance of a judge of the 
 
 )ast; while one who judges merely of the ability 
 
 lisplayed in a speech is the critic. It follows that 
 there must necessarily be three kinds of rhetorical 
 speeches, the deliberative, the forensic and the *epi- 
 deictic. 
 
 Deliberative Rhetoric is partly hortatory and partly 
 dissuasive ; for people who counsel their friends delibe- 
 ratively on private affairs and people who address 
 popular meetings on matters of State are alike in 
 this, that they always exhort or dissuade. Forensic 
 Rhetoric may be divided into accusation and defence ; 
 for the parties to any legal action necessarily adopt 
 either one or other of these lines. To the epideictic 
 
 Torrou €vBvfjii^^jLaTos rb avro, p. 95, 1. 26. The term itself is discussed 
 
 by Mr Cope, Introd. pp. 127, 128. 
 
 ^ The difference, as appears in the next sentence, is that the 
 
 "critic" regards a speech merely as an intellectual effort, the 
 
 " j^&® " *^ ^" argument in which he is personally interested. 
 / 2 As (TTidfi^is is a set rhetorical display, so epideictic oratory 
 ( is the oratory of display. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 23 
 
 orator belong eulogy and censure. Again, there are Their times. 
 times belonging to the several kinds of Rhetoric ; 
 to deliberative Rhetoric the future, as deliberative 
 counsel, whether hortatory or dissuasive, has reference 
 to things which lie in the future; to forensic Rhetoric 
 the past, as the subject of accusation or defence is 
 always something which has been already done ; and 
 to epideictic Rhetoric most properly the present, as 
 it is always existing facts which form the grounds 
 of eulogy or censure, although epideictic orators often 
 amplj^L-lheir Resources , by appe aling to the past 
 in the way of reminiscence and to the future in the 
 wsL^ of anticipation. There are three ends too appro- Their ends. 
 priate respectively to the three kinds of Rhetoric. 
 The end which the deliberative orator has in view is 
 expediency or injury ; for iTTie exhorts to a parti - 
 ^cular line of action, he recommends it as being better, 
 i.e, more advantageous, iFhe dissuades from it, he 
 does^soonlihe ground that it is worse, and every 
 other consideratipu^-whetlier justice or injustice, 
 honour or disgrace, he embraces merely as something 
 secondary and subservient to this. The end of the 
 parties to a legal action or in otlier words of forensic 
 oro^org is justice and injustice ; an djf they too intro- 
 duce other considerations, it is always as subordinate 
 to these. Orators of the panegyrical and depreciatory 
 style take honour andT^disgraceas their end and again 
 refer all other considerations to these. As a sign 
 that the end of Rh c torio is ig each case such as we 
 have stated, it may be noticed that an orator will 
 sometimes forbear to argue any point in the case 
 except this one. Thus a person who is a party to 
 
MiXHU II 
 
 [ 
 
 I r 
 
 24 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 a legal suit will sometimes not care to contend that 
 the action with which he is charged has not occurred 
 or that it did no damage ; but the injustice or 
 criminality of the action he will never for a moment 
 allow, as, if he did, there would be no need of a suit 
 at all. Similarly deliberative speakers, while they 
 frequently abandon every other point, will never 
 admit that the course which they recommend is 
 inexpedient or that the course from which they dis- 
 suade is advantageous ; but the injustice of reducing 
 their neighbours, even if absolutely unoifending, to 
 slavery is often a point about which they do not 
 trouble themselves in the least. So too in eulogy 
 or depreciation the speakers, instead of considering 
 the expediency or hurtfulness of a person's actions, 
 often go so far as to reckon it meritorious that he 
 did some noble deed at the sacrifice of his own 
 interest, as when they eulogize Achilles for having 
 avenged his friend Patroclus, although he knew he 
 must perish and he might have saved his life, if 
 he had chosen. But in this case, although it was 
 more honourable so to die, yet his personal interest 
 was to live. 
 
 The propo- The remarks we have made clearly show that these, 
 
 sitions in- . j • • • » 
 
 dispensable VIZ, expediency, justice, honour and their opjwsites, 
 
 to a rhe- . , i • i i 1.1 
 
 torician. are the subjects about which propositions are primarily 
 indispensable to the rhetorician. By rh etorical pro- 
 positions I ^ nean demonstra tio ns^ p rogggTTfjpfl^^^l 
 ^^signs. For a syllogism consists of proposition^TanJ 
 the"^nthymeme is a syllogism composed of the pro- 
 positions described, viz. demonstrations, prohahiUties 
 and signs. Again, as things which are impossible 
 
 f . 
 
 4 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 25 
 
 cannot have been done in the past or be done in 
 the future, and tilings which have not occurred or 
 will not occur cannot have been done or be done 
 hereafter, it is indispensable that the rhetorician, 
 whether deliberative, forensic or epideictic, should 
 be master of certain propositions as to possibility 
 and impossibility and as to the occurrence or non- 
 occuiTcnce of events in the past or in the future. And 
 further, as all speakers, whether in eulogy or depre- 
 ciation, exhortation or dissuasion, accusation or de- 
 fence, are not contented with trying to prove the 
 points I have mentioned, but try also to prove the 
 greatness or smallness of the good or evil, the honour 
 or disgrace, the justice or injustice which is the 
 sid)ject of their speech, either absolutely or in com- 
 parison with something else, it will clearly be necessary 
 to be supplied with propositions respecting greatness 
 and smallness both absolute and comparative, whether 
 universally or in reference to particular cases, as 
 e.g. to the greater or less of two good things or of 
 two actions either just or unjust ; and the same is 
 tine of every other subject. 
 
 So much then for the subjects in regard to which 
 it is right that the rhetorician should acquire his 
 propositions. We must now proceed to distinguish 
 them individually, ije. to distinguish the proper sub- 
 jects of deliberative, of epideictic, and in the third 
 place of legal oratory. 
 
 The first step is to ascertain the character of the f chap, rv!" 
 good or bad things in regard to which the delibe- t??e^5i 
 rative orator gives his counsel. For he does not xltuVe of 
 concern himself with all things which are good qj. ^^^ ^^^^J®*'*^ 
 
 ( 
 
1/ 
 
 26 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 I, 
 
 " ■«•' 
 
 p. 12. 
 
 [I- 
 
 bad, but only with such as either may or may not 
 come to pass; whereas, if a thing either is or will 
 be necessarily or cannot possibly be or come to 
 pass, it is not a proper subject of deliberative 
 counsel. Nor again does he concern himself with 
 all things which either may or may not come to pass ; 
 for there are some good things of the kind which are 
 the gifts of Nature or the results of chance, and 
 about these it is entirely useless to offer counsel. It 
 is clear that his subjects are all such things as are 
 possible matters of deliberation, i.e. all things which 
 are naturally referred to our own agency and * whose 
 production depends in the fii-st instance on our own 
 will. For we always carry back our investigations 
 to the point of discovering whether the act in question 
 is or is not within our power. 
 
 Now any attempt at an exact and particular enu- 
 meration and classification of the ordinary subjects of 
 public business and at an accurate definition of them, 
 so far as such is possible, would be inappropriate 
 on the present occasion ; for such a task belongs not 
 so much to the rhetorical art as to an art of a more 
 intellectual and authentic character, and a gi-eat 
 deal more has already 'been assigned to Rhetoric 
 than its own proper subjects of investigation. For 
 
 1 For the meaning of the phrase ^ dpx^ r^s ycveVf wf c'<^* ^f^lp 
 eWtV, see Metaphysics vi. ch. 8, p. 1033 A24 eVfi bt <>n6 rti^dy tc 
 yiyvtrai, to yiyv6fi€i;ov (roOro Sf Xtyta odtv )) dpxri rrjs y€V€a((ag 
 eVrt) K,r.\. 
 
 2 Aristotle is alluding to the practice of preceding writers on 
 Rhetoric. See marginal reference. As Rhetoric is there said to 
 be an oflfshoot of Dialectic and Ethics, it is clear that " the analy- 
 tical science " must be Dialectic. See Mr Cope's note ad loc. 
 
 ► ♦ 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 27 
 
 the truth is, as indeed we have already remarked, 
 that Rlu^tauc-is_compQsed_of the analytical science 
 and of the ethical brancholTolitics and bears a 
 certain resemblance to Dialectic on the one hand 
 an'd'to'the sophistical arguments on the other. But 
 the— more one attenapt* to set either Dialectic or 
 Rhetoric on the footing of sciences rather than of 
 simple faculties, the more will one imperceptibly ob- 
 literate their nature Jjy tmnsgressing their jyroper 
 limits in the reconstructive process and passing from 
 a science of mere words to sciences of certain definite 
 subject-matters. Still so far as an analysis of tJie 
 subjects of public business has a practical value mid 
 is 2)ossihle without encroachment upon the studies 
 proper to political science, it is one upon which we 
 may now proceed to enter. 
 
 The most important subjects of general delibe- The five 
 ration and deliberative oi*atory are practically five, subjects of 
 
 . _ _ 1 , o « , deiiberar 
 
 VIZ. finance, war and peace, the defence of the country, tion. 
 imports and exports, and legislation. Thus to speak (i) Finance. 
 in the first instance of finance: one who aspires to 
 be a deliberative or political speaker will need to 
 be acquainted with the nature and number of the 
 resources of the State, so that anv resource which 
 is neglected may be added to them and any which 
 is defective may be increased, as well as with all 
 the items of the public expenditure, so that what- 
 ever is superfluous may be abolished and whatever 
 is excessive may be cut down ; for it is possible to en- 
 rich a State not only by adding to its resources but 
 also by curtailing its expenses. But it is not only 
 from experience at home that a comprehensive view 
 
 -J-* 
 
(2) War 
 and peace. 
 
 '*] 
 
 li 
 
 / 
 
 I I 
 
 li 
 
 28 THE KHETORIC [l. 
 
 of these questions maybe derived; it is indispensable, 
 if one is to deliberate and advise respecting them, 
 that he should be equally familiar with the discoveries 
 made in other lands. Under the head of war and 
 peace he must know the strength and character 
 of the existing military force in the State and of 
 the force which can be called into existence, also 
 the wars in which the State has been engaged 
 and its success or failure in them. Nor must 
 his knowledge of these points be limited to his own 
 State ; it must extend to neighbouring countries ^ or 
 even to all covntrles with which there is a prospect of 
 war, his object being to conclude a peace with the 
 superior powers and to have the option of fighting or 
 not with the inferior. He must know too whether 
 the forces of the States are similar or dissimilar, as 
 this is a point in which one may have an advantage or 
 disadvantage as compared with the other. With the 
 same view it is necessary that he should have studied 
 the issues of the wars not only of his own State but of 
 other States as well; for similar causes naturally 
 (8) Means producc similar results. Nor again should he be 
 ^^nce. jg^Qj^^^^ ^f ^Y^Q means of defence possessed by his 
 
 country ; he should know the strength and character 
 of its defensive force and the sites of its fortresses 
 (which is impossible without a practical knowledge 
 of the country) in order to strengthen the force, 
 if it is inadequate, or to abolish any part of it, if 
 superfluous, and to concentrate the attention of the 
 
 ^ It seems best to place only a comma after ftSfvai, so that 
 the sentence, if fully expressed, would run r«i/ o/xopcav ravra 
 dvayKoiov flbevaij fj koi itavnov npbs ovs eirido^ov nokffulv. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 29 
 
 citizens upon the most favourable localities. In re- 
 gard to the question of supplies, the deliberative (*) sup- 
 orator ought to understand the total expenditure 
 which is adequate for the State, the nature of the 
 supplies produced at home and imported from abroad 
 and the requisite exports and imports, with the view 
 of making conventions and commercial treaties with 
 the exporting and importing countries. For there are 
 two classes of persons in regard to whom it is neces- 
 sary that the citizens should always be kept clear of 
 offence, viz. those who are superior in military strength 
 and those who control the supplies. But while it is 
 necessary, as a means of safety, that our orator 
 should be a competent observer of all the points 
 we have described, it is especially necessary that he 
 should understand legislation. For as the safety of (s) Legisia- 
 the State depends upon its laws, he must know all 
 the different kinds of polities, the nature of the 
 measures beneficial to each and the natural causes 
 of its destruction whether inherent in the polity 
 itself or antagonistic to it 
 
 *When I speak of the destruction of a polity by 
 causes which are inherent in itself I mean that all 
 polities, except the ideally best polity, are liable 
 to destruction either by relaxation or by intensi- 
 fication ; a democracy e.g. is not only enfeebled by 
 relaxation so as to issue actually in an oligarchy but 
 may he destroyed also by a marked intensification, 
 
 ^ There is a passage of the Politics so closely resembling this, 
 even in the illustration drawn from the characteristics of the 
 nose, that the two should be read side by side. It is viii(v) 
 ch. 9, and will be found on pp. 377 — 379 of my Translation. 
 
} 
 
 b 
 
 \ 
 
 Chap. V. 
 
 The object 
 of human 
 actions. 
 
 1! 
 
 30 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 in the same way as not only does the aquiline or snub 
 character of a nose become regular by relaxation, but, 
 if the nose becomes excessively aquiline or snub, 
 it acquires such a shape that it ceases to look like 
 a nose at all. It is useful too for legislative purposes 
 not only to understand the nature of the proper 
 polity by a study of the past but to be familiar 
 with the polities of other countries and to know 
 the particular polities suitable to particular peoples. 
 It is clear then that fi'om a legislative point of view 
 there is a value in the accounts of travels round the 
 world, as from them we may learn the laws and 
 customs of foreign nations, and from the point of 
 view of political counsel there is a value in historical 
 compositions, although all this is the province of 
 Politics rather than of Rhetoric. 
 
 These then are all the principal topics which the 
 deliberative or political orator should ' understand. 
 But the proper materials of exhortation or dissuasion 
 upon these or upon any other topics remain to be 
 discussed ; and the discussion of them will be a fresh 
 branch of our inquiry ^ 
 
 It may be said that all men both individually 
 and collectively have a certain object at which they 
 
 1 I can hardly believe in the absolute use of exciy, without an 
 object or with ras TrpoTao-ets to be mentally supplied. Nor does 
 Spengel's Xiyav commend itself as an emendation. Is it possible 
 that the true reading is Trcpi Stv \i.kv ow vovv tx^'-^ ^*^ "^^^ y.fK\ovTa 
 <rufi^ov\€v(iu i Cp. Plato Republic^ p. 534 B. 
 
 2 It is perhaps worth while to quote M. St Hilaire's remark 
 upon this chapter : II est fait pour etonner beaucoup ceux qui 
 croient non-seulement k notre superiorite mais en outre k une 
 difference radicale entre nous et les Grecs. 
 
 t i 
 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 31 
 
 aim in all that they choose and in all that they avoid. 
 This object may be summarily defined as happiness 
 and the constituents of happiness. Let us then by Happiness. 
 way of illustration ascertain what is in general 
 terms the nature of happiness and what are the 
 elements of its constituent parts, as it is upon hap- 
 piness and all that is conducive or prejudicial to 
 happiness that exhortations and dissuasions always 
 turn. For whatever procures or augments happiness 
 or one of its constituents is a thing to be done, and 
 whatever destroys or impedes happiness or creates 
 its opposite is a thing to be left undone. 
 
 Happiness then may be defined as prosperity its definu 
 conjoined with virtue, or as an independent state of ^'°''' 
 existence, or as the pleasantest life conjoined with 
 safety, or as an abundance of goods and slaves with 
 the ability to preserve them and make a practical 
 use of them ; for it would be pretty generally ad- 
 mitted that happiness is one or more of these 
 things. 
 
 Such then being the definition of happiness, it its constitu- 
 follows that its constituent parts are nobility, the"'"*^*'*"* 
 possession of many and excellent friends, wealth, 
 a goodly and numerous family and a happy old age ; 
 also such physical excellences as health, beauty, 
 strength, stature, and athletic power, and finally 
 fame, honour, good fortune and virtue \ For the 
 
 1 After apfrriv most M8S. contain the words fj Koi ra fifprj avrrjsf 
 <f>poin](riv avhpLav SiKaioavvrjv <T(o(^pocrvvqv. But not tO say that 
 
 such an analysis of dperj; is, as Si^engel says, rather Platonic than 
 Aristotelian, it is clear from the concluding words of this chapter 
 that a specification of the ^* constituents" of aperri would here be 
 
 s 
 
\ ! 
 
 32 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 only way to be absolutely indepeudent is to possess 
 both personal and external goods, as there are no 
 other kinds of goods than these. Personal goods 
 are those of the soul or of the body ; nobility, 
 friends, riches and honour are external goods. We 
 hold that resources too and fortune should not be 
 wanting, if the life is to be perfectly secure. Let 
 us ascertain then in the same way as before 
 the nature of these several constituents of hap- 
 piness. 
 
 (1) Nobility. Nobility in the case of a nation or a State implies 
 that its members are indigenous or of high antiquity, 
 that its first rulers were illustrious persons and that 
 many of its sons have been illustrious on the score 
 of qualities which excite admiration. The nobility 
 of a private family on the other hand may be derived 
 either from the male or the female side ; it implies 
 legitimacy on both sides and, as in the case of a 
 State, the distinction of its founders for virtue or 
 wealth or something else which is held in honour 
 among men and the celebrity of many members of 
 the family, men and women, young and old. 
 
 (2)0flbpring. What is meant by the blessing of a goodly and 
 numerous race is not at all difficult to understand. 
 ^It implies in a community a large and sterling body 
 of youth, sterling physically, i.e. in stature, beauty, 
 strength and athletic powers, as well as in regard 
 to the virtues of the soul, which in a young man 
 are temperance and courage. It implies in an indi- 
 
 premature. What Aristotle understands by these " constituents" 
 appears from p. 29, 11. 28 — 30. 
 1 Omitting (vrfKvia. 
 
 I.j OF ARISTOTLE. 33 
 
 vidual that his own children, both sons and daughters, 
 are numerous and goodly. It may he observed that 
 in a woman the excellences or graces of the body 
 are beauty and stature, those of the soul are self- 
 command and an industry which never degenemtes 
 into vulgarity. Nor is it less our duty as members 
 of a State than as individuals to try to ensure these 
 vii^tues among women as well as among men ; for 
 where the condition of the women is vicious as at 
 Laceda3mon, it may be said that there is no hap- 
 piness in half the State. 
 
 The constituents of wealth are plenty of money, (3) wealth. 
 the possession of landed pro^^erty and estates and 
 also of chattels, live-stock and slaves of exceptional 
 number, size and beauty ; all these are safe, ^ gentle- 
 manly and useful kinds of property. But, while it 
 is the productive kinds of property which are the 
 more useful, it is the means of luxury which are the 
 more gentlemanly ; I mean by " productive kinds " 
 the ordinary sources of income, and by "luxuries" 
 such kinds as produce nothing worth speaking of 
 beyond the actual enjoyment of them. The criterion 
 of security in the com of property is the possession 
 of it iu such a place and in such a manner that you 
 enjoy the power of using it as you like ; that of 
 ownership or the reverse is your power of aliena- 
 
 * When Aristotle speaks of certain kinds of property as "liberal" 
 or " gentlemanly," his words are intelligible, if it is borne in mind 
 that the Greeks looked upon trade and all the property which 
 conies of trade as being essentially unnatural and illiberal. This 
 view is familiar to every reader of Plato's Laics or Aristotle's 
 Politics. See Mr Cope's note. 
 
 W. R. 3 
 
, 
 
 l( 
 
 34 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 tion, i.e. of giving it away or selling it It is indeed 
 the general rule that wealth consists not so much in 
 possession as in use ; for it is the active exercise or 
 use of such things as have been mentioned which 
 constitutes wealth. 
 
 (4) Reputa- To havc a high reputation is to be regarded by 
 
 everybody as a man of honour or to be the possessor 
 of something which is an object of desire to all or 
 most people or to the good or the wise. 
 
 (5) Honour. Houour is a sign of a reputation for beneficence. 
 
 It is especially paid, as indeed is right, to past bene- 
 factors, although it is sometimes paid too to persons 
 capable of beneficent action. Such action may affect 
 either personal safety and the various causes which 
 conduce to existence or wealth or some other good 
 which is difficult of acquisition either universally or 
 at a particidar place or time ; for it often happens 
 that people receive honour for services of an ap- 
 parently insignificant kind, but the explanation lies 
 in the places or seasons at which they were rendered. 
 The elements of honour are sacrifices, memorials in 
 verse and prose, special distinctions, allotments of 
 land, the foremost seats on i)ublic occasions, sepul- 
 chral monuments, statues, maintenance at the public 
 charge, barbaric compliments, as e.g. the prostrating 
 oneself before a person or giving him place, and such 
 presents as are valued in the particular country where 
 they are made. For the present, as being a gift of 
 property and a sign of honour, is equally an object of 
 desire to the avaricious and the ambitious. For to 
 both it offers something that they need, as on the 
 one hand it is a property, which is the desire of the 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 35 
 
 avaricious, and on the other hand it confers honour, 
 which is the desire of the ambitious. 
 
 Of the physical excellences one is health ; and by (6) Health. 
 this I mean that a person is free from disease and 
 has the use of his bodily faculties ; for there are 
 many persons who keep themselves in health in such 
 a manner as is attributed to 'Herodicus and who 
 woidd not be congratulated by anybody upon their 
 health, as they deny themselves all or nearly all 
 human pleasures. 
 
 Beauty varies with the different periods of life, o Beauty. 
 A young man is beautiful, if his body is adapted to 
 exercises of speed and strength, and if he is a pleasant 
 and delightful object to look upon. This is the 
 reason why ^pentathletes are most beautiful; they 
 are equally ready for feats of strength and of speed. 
 A man in the prime of life ^is beautiful, if his body 
 is adapted to military exercises and if his appear- 
 
 1 The best account of Herodicus will be found in Plato, RepuUic 
 iii. p. 406, where it is said that he was a training-master (7704^0- 
 Tpl^r)^) who fell into ill-health and invented such a compound 
 regime of gymnastics and medicine as to worry himself and a 
 great many other people to deatli. 
 
 2 The itivraQXov, as its name implies, comprised five exercises, 
 
 oKy^a, 7ro8a)K€iriv, 8iaKov, aKovra, TToKriv, 
 but it is not certain whether the successful pentatlilete was 
 necessarily victorious in all or only in three of the exercises. 
 
 ^ Victorius is probably right in saying that the elliptical sen- 
 tence would, if fully expressed, be clk^clCovtos U kuXKos to npos 
 /xeV novovs tovs TToXf/xKov? xPV^f-y^ov fx^iv to a-afia k.t.X. 
 
 It should be remembered that the a/c/xt) or "prime" of physical 
 life was, according to Aristotle, attained at the age of 37 or there- 
 abouts. See Politics iv (vii), ch. 16 (p. 213 of my Translation). 
 
 3—2 
 
I 
 
 (S)Strength, 
 
 (9) Size. 
 
 il 
 
 (10) Athletic 
 excellence. 
 
 36 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 ance combines grace with sternness; an old man, 
 Mf his body is equal to such exertions as are inevit- 
 able and if it is not repulsive, as having none of the 
 disfigurements of age. 
 
 Strength is a power of moving somebody else at 
 Avill; and as a person must be moved either by 
 pulling or pushing or lifting or pressing or com- 
 pressing, it follows that a strong man is strong either 
 in all or in some of these respects. 
 
 In respect of size excellence consists in superiority 
 to ordinary people in height, stoutness and breadth, 
 although not to such an extent that the movements 
 are retarded in consequence of the excess. 
 
 Athletic excellence is composed of size, strength 
 and speed"^; for a man who can move his legs about 
 and take long rapid strides is a good runner, one 
 who can pound an adversary and hold him down a 
 good wrestler, one who can drive him from his ground 
 by his blows a good boxer, one who is a master both 
 of wrestling and of boxing a ^pancratiast, and one who 
 is a master of * all the exercises a pentathlete. 
 
 ^ In full : yepovTos de koXXos to rrpos fiep nopovs tovs dvayKaiovs 
 iKavov €X^^^ "^^ <Tafia k.t.X. 
 
 2 I cannot help thinking that the clause Koi yap 6 raxvs laxvpos 
 toTiv is spurious, having been introduced by a copyist who noticed 
 that, while ayavia-TiKrj dp€Tjj consists of three elements, size, 
 strength and speed, the first two only have been described, but 
 not the third. 
 
 ^ The irayKpdriov comprised wrestling and boxing. 
 
 * There is some little diflSculty in ndai^ as boxing was not 
 a part of the nivTaffkovy and quoit- thro wing, javelin-hurling and 
 (possibly) leaping, which were included in the ndvraffXov, have not 
 been mentioned in this sentence. But probably the word ndai 
 
 iitll 
 
 I.J OF ARISTOTLE. 37 
 
 A happy old age is one which approaches gradu- ODAhappy 
 aUy and without pain; for if its approach is rapid, ""^^ ^*^^" 
 or painful although slow, it is not a happy old 
 age. It is dependent too on physical excellences 
 and on fortune ; for a person will not be exempt 
 from suffering, unless he is healthy and strong, nor 
 will he enjoy a painless and protracted life, 'unless 
 he is fortunate. It is true that there is such a thing 
 as a faculty of long life even without health and 
 strength, for many people are long-lived who have 
 no physical excellences ; but a precise consideration 
 of this subject would not be serviceable to our 
 present purpose. 
 
 What it is to possess numerous friends and good (12) Friend- 
 friends is evident at once from the definition of a ''^^' 
 friend as one who, if he considers anything to be good 
 for another, is ready to do it for the other's sake. 
 Thus one who has many such persons about him 
 has a number of friends, and one who has worthy 
 persons has good friends. 
 
 Good fortune implies the acquisition and posses- (i3)Fortune. 
 sion of either all or nearly all or the most important 
 of the good gifts which Fortune bestows. But while 
 there are some of Fortune's gifts which are equally 
 the gifts of various arts, there are many too which are 
 independent of art, e.g. the various gifts of Nature- 
 "(although Fortune's gifts may also be unnatural); 
 
 would convey to a Greek the idea of an "all-round" athlete, 
 without any special reference to the exercises named in the 
 context. 
 
 ^ Omitting oCt before dp€v Tvx'/f. 
 The clause €i/d«^erat di koi napa (fiva-ip €ipai is strictly paren- 
 
 .^' 
 
 \ 
 
 ■li 
 
I 
 
 1; 
 
 38 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 for health may be a product of art, but beauty 
 and stature can only be gifts of Nature. It is a 
 general rule that all such blessings as excite env)^ 
 are gifts of Fortune. Fortune again is the author 
 of exceptional blessings, as e.g. if all your brothers 
 are ugly and you are handsome, or if everybody else 
 failed to perceive a particular treasure and you dis- 
 covered it, or if a shot hit your neiglibour instead 
 of youi-self, or if although you were always in the 
 habit of going to a partmdar spot you were one day 
 the only pei-son who did not go to it, and other 
 people, although it was the only time that they ever 
 went there, were killed. All such cases may be re- 
 garded as instances of good Fortune. 
 (14) Virtue. We havc still to speak of virtue; but as the most 
 convenient place to discuss it will be when we come 
 to treat of panegyrical Rhetoric, we will postpone the 
 definition until then*. 
 
 It is evident then what are the points to be kept 
 in view, *as being consequent or as already existing, 
 
 theticaL The gifts of Fortune (says Aristotle) are sometimes such 
 as art or science can produce, e.g. health, and sometimes such as 
 Nature bestows, e.g. beauty. But it then occurs to him that the 
 gifts of Fortune may also be unnatural or abnormal ; hence the 
 parenthetical words. If he were speaking here exactly, he would 
 not call anything unnatural or abnormal a gift of Fortune (rv'x*?), 
 orav yap y{vryrai ri napa <f>v(Tiv, rare ovk dnb Tvxrjs dWa fiaWov 
 diro TavTOfidrov yeyov€vai (t)afjL(Vy {<jivaiKr} aKpoaa-is, U. p. 197 B24). 
 But compare p. 36, 1. 25. 
 
 ^ See ch. 9. 
 
 2 Although it is true that the future is in Aristotle's new the 
 "time" which especially belongs to deliberative Rhetoric (p. 11, 
 1. 23), yet an appeal to present or existing facts will not be out of 
 
 Chap. VI. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 39 
 
 in a hortatory and on the other hand in a dissuasive 
 speech; for the latter are the opposites of the former. 
 'But as in deliberative Rhetoric it is expediency 
 which is the end proposed, the subject of delibei-ation 
 being not the end but the means to the end or in 
 other words whatever is expedient in actions, and 
 as what is expedient is good, it is necessary to ap- 
 prehend certain elementary propositions respecting 
 what is good or expedient in general. 
 
 Good then may be defined as that which is de- Description 
 sirable for its own sake and for the sake of which we ^ 
 desire or choose something else, and which is sought 
 by all things or by all sentient or intelligent things or 
 ivould be sought by them, if they should acquire intel- 
 ligence. Again, whatever intelligence would assign to 
 each individual or the intelligence of each individual 
 assigns to himself, this is good relatively to him. Or 
 again, that which by its presence produces a good 
 condition and a state of independence, or indepen- 
 dence in the ahstracty or that which is productive 
 or preservative of such things, or that upon which 
 they are consequent, or that which tends to hinder 
 or destroy their opposites is also a good, ^ Conse- 
 
 place. His exhortation may e.g. assume the form "Show your- 
 selves men, or you will lose the blessings you have," as well as 
 "Show yourselves men, and you will gain greater blessings." 
 
 ^ This is another sentence which is logically irregular. The 
 
 clause ^ov\€vovrai. Se ov irtpX rov ri\ovi (caret raff Trpd^ds has no 
 
 bearing upon the conclusion and should be regarded as virtually 
 parenthetical. 
 
 - The supreme or Divine Intelligence. 
 
 3 This and the next sentence form a sort of explanatory note 
 which slightly interrupts the sequence of the argument. 
 
 C^^ 
 
 \ 
 
* \ 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 40 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 queiice however may be either subsequent or simul- 
 taneous ; knowledge e.g. is consequent upon learning 
 subsequently but life upon healthiness simultaneously. 
 Also a cause may be productive in three senses ; as 
 'healthiness e.g. is productive of health in one sense, 
 food is productive of it in another and gymnastic 
 exercise, as generally producing health, in a third. 
 
 These principles being laid down, it necessarily 
 follows that any acquisition of what is good and any 
 rejection of what is evil is good, as the enjoyment 
 of the good is consequent upon the former subse- 
 quently and the deliverance from the evil upon the 
 latter simultaneously. So also is the reception of a 
 greater good in lieu of a less and of a less evil in 
 lieu of a greater; for the excess of the greater over 
 the less is in effect the measure of the good received 
 or of the evil rejected. The virtues too necessarily 
 constitute a good, as it is in respect of them that the 
 virtuous are in a good case, and they are productive 
 of what is good and also ^practical. But the nature 
 
 ^ It is curious that Aristotle speaks here of to vytaivtLv as 
 producing vyUia and in Nicom. Eth. x. ch. 4, p. 1 174 B^^ of vyUux as 
 producing to vyiaivuv. Perhaps his meaning is the same in both 
 passages, although his language is practically inverted. A healthy 
 condition of body (he seems to say) is productive of health as a^ 
 visible objective fact. 
 
 2 The distinction between TrotjyrtKoy and npaKrtKos, which is 
 necessary to the understanding of this passage, is nowhere per- 
 haps more clearly expressed than in Politics i. ch. 4, to fiip ovv 
 Xfyo^fpa opyava noirjTiKa opyava <Wt, to hi KTr^ia npOKTiKov' arro 
 fifv yap TTJi KfpKidos (which is an opyavov) €Tep6if ti yiyvfrcu napa 
 Tr)v XPW^v avTTji^ ano b( Trji (o-efJTos kqi ttj^ xXtw/f (which are 
 KTi]p.aTa) 1/ XP7^*y fiouov. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 41 
 
 and character of the several virtues deserve a separate 
 discussion. Pleasure again must be a good, as all 
 living things natumlly desire it; and if so, all that 
 is pleasant or noble must be good, as what is pleasant 
 is productive of pleasure, and what is noble is either 
 pleasant or intrinsically desirable. But, to parti- Goods, 
 cularize, it results /rom tJie definition that the follow- 
 ing are goods. Happiness, as being something intrin- 
 sically desirable and independent and for the sake of 
 which we choose many things. Also justice, courage, 
 temperance, magnanimity, 'magnificence and other 
 such habits, as being virtues of the soul. Health, 
 beauty and the like, as being virtues or graces of the 
 body and as being productive of many things tvhich 
 are good ; for health e.g. produces pleasure as well as 
 life and is therefore in the popular view the best 
 of blessings, as being the source of the two things 
 most highly esteemed in the world, viz. pleasure and 
 life. Wealth again is a good, as being ^a virtue or 
 successful residt of acquisition and as something which 
 is productive of many good things. Also a friend and 
 friendship ; for not only is a friend intrinsically desir- 
 able, but he is productive in a number of ways. 
 Honour and reputation again, as being pleasant, 
 variously productive and generally attended by the 
 actual possession of the qualities which are the 
 
 ^ The virtue which is called by Aristotle p^yaXonpiir^ia is dis- 
 cussed in Nicom. Eth. iv. ch 4, where o tifyaXonpfnrjs is defined 
 as one who is able daTravfjaai peyoKa €pp€\6is. Cp. p. 30, 1. 12, 
 pfyaXonpfTTtia 5c dp€T^ iv dajravrjpaa-i ptyedovs ttoitjtiktJ. 
 
 2 It is rather, I should say, the accumulation of wealth than 
 wealth itself which would be strictly called an dptrfi Krrja-fas. 
 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 42 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 grounds of the honour so paid. Rhetorical and prac- 
 tical ability are good, as these and all 9>\im\^v faculties 
 are productive of good. Natural gifts again, * memory, 
 aptness to learn, sharpness of wit and the like, all 
 these faculties being productive of what is good. 
 Similarly, all sciences and arts and life itself; for 
 life if unattended by any other good is yet intrin- 
 sically desirable. And lastly, justice as tending to 
 promote the interest of the community at large. 
 
 This is a fairly exhaustive catalogue of such 
 things as are generally admitted to be good. There 
 are other goods of a disputable kind, and in regard 
 to these the materials of syllogism will be as fol- 
 lows. A thing is good if its opposite is evil. Or 
 if its opposite is advantageous to our enemies ; as 
 if it is of high advantage to our enemies that we 
 should be cowards, it is clear that valour is highly 
 beneficial to our country. It is in fact a general rule 
 that, whatever our enemies desire or rejoice at, tlie 
 opposite of this is clearly beneficial to ourselves. 
 Hence the point of the lines 
 
 "Sure ''Priam would rejoice," &c. 
 
 But this is only a general and not an invariable 
 rule ; for there is no absolute reason why our own 
 interest should not in some instances coincide with 
 
 ^ Reading fiw;'^?;, with Spengel. 
 
 2 The passage referred to is the beginning of the speech in 
 which Nestor tries to reconcile Achilles and Agamemnon. Iliad, 
 i. 255 sqq. 
 
 T) K€v yrjdfjo'ai npta/ioy, Upiafxoio re Trat^fff, 
 aXXoi re TpcScf fJieya k€v Kf)(apoiaTo Bvyiuty 
 (I (T<f>(oiv rabf irdvra nvdoiaro ytapvayitvouv. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 43 
 
 
 that of our enemies. Hence the saying "Misery 
 acquaints a man with strange bedfellows," when the 
 same danger threatens two people. Again, 'if a thing 
 is not in excess, it is a good ; but if there is more 
 than tlie proper amount of it, it is an evil. It is a 
 good too, if it is a thing for which a great deal of 
 trouble or expense has been incurred ; for it is proved 
 thereby to be an apparent good, and an apparent 
 good is assumed to be an end and not only so but 
 an end of various actions, and an end is ex hyx)othesi 
 a good. Hence ^ the lines heginning 
 
 "Yea, after Priam's heart" 
 
 and 
 
 "'Twere shame to tarry long" 
 
 and Hhe proverb "to break the pitcher at the door." 
 
 ^ It seems from the coiTespondence of the clauses ov prj itrriv 
 virfp^oXij and o 8* av ^ fi^iC^v ff dtl that the former means not 
 "that which does not admit of excess" but rather "that which is 
 not in excess," 
 
 2 Both quotations are from the Second Book of the Iliady 
 w. 176 and 298. The point lies not in the mere words quoted 
 but in the context. In the first passage Athene is speaking of 
 the noble lives sacrificed for Helen's sake. 
 
 Ka8 Se K€V cv)^a)\rjp Tlpiafico Kai Tpoxri XiTroire 
 ^Apyeirjv 'EXfvrjVj ijs (IvtKa ttoXXoi *A;^aio3i/ 
 fv Tpoirj airokovTOy (fyiXrjs dno TrarpiBos atijs. 
 
 In the second it is Odysseus who speaks 
 
 Tjfiiv d eivaros eari nepiTporrdoyp iviavroi 
 (vOdbf p.ip.v6vT€(r<Ti' Tw ov vefieal^ofi *Axaiovs 
 .aaxoXaav napa vrjvcrl Kopaviaiv' dWa koX €p.TrT]S 
 m<T)(p6v TOi drjpov re fieveiv, Kfpeop Tf pifo-Oai. 
 
 2 The pitcher broken at the door after so much trouble in 
 carrying it was a proverbial instance of labour thrown away. 
 
 i i 
 
 \ 
 
44 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 Again, that which is an object of general desire or 
 that which is clearly an object of contention is a 
 good, for we defined a good as an object of universal 
 desire, and the general opinion is regarded as virtu- 
 all f/ uniyers^l That which is an object of pmise 
 too is a good, as nobody praises anything which he 
 does not regard as a good. Or again that which is 
 praised by our enemies \ for it is an universal admis- 
 sion that a thing is a good, if it is admitted even by 
 those who are the sufferers by it. For 'it may be 
 argued that, if they admit it, the reason must be that 
 It is indisputable, as it map be equally argued ex 
 contrario that people must be vicious, if their ene- 
 mies praise them. It was thus that the Corinthians 
 considered themselves to have been insulted by 
 Simonides in the line 
 
 " The men of Corinth Ilium blameth not." 
 
 Again, a thing is a good, if it has been preferred 
 by some sagacious or good man or woman, as 
 Odysseus by Athene, Helen by Theseus, Alexander 
 by the goddesses and Achilles by Homer. The 
 objects of deliberate choice in general are good, 
 these being such things as have been already de- 
 scribed or such as are injurious to our enemies or 
 good for our friends or such as are practicable. But 
 what is practicable may be either just ''possible or 
 easily done, i.e. done either without trouble or in 
 
 ^ Omitting Koi oi 0aCXot. 
 
 2 Upon the whole it seems best to follow Spengel in omitting 
 
 the words ots oi 0tXot yfrfyovai koI aya^oi. 
 
 3 The ^p should certainly be retained in the text. It is clear 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 45 
 
 I.] 
 
 a short time ; for the difficulty of a thing is deter- 
 mined either by the trouble it gives or by the length 
 of time it takes. Again, things are good, if they 
 happen in accordance with our desires ; for the 
 object of our desire is either not an evil at all or 
 is an evil which is more than compensated by the good 
 which follows front it, as e.g. if the consequent 
 penalty is either imperceptible or insignificant. They 
 are good too, if they are special or unique or pre- 
 eminent gifts, as in such case they are held in 
 greater honour. Or if they are appropriate to 
 ourselves, i.e. suitable in regard to our birth or 
 influence. Or if they are things of which we feel 
 the deficiency, even though in themselves they are 
 insignificant ; for it is none the less our deliberate 
 choice to attain them. Or if they are things which 
 are easy of accomplishment ; for if they are easy, 
 a fortiori they are possible — I mean things in which 
 all or most men or our own equals or inferiors have 
 been successful. Or things by wliich we shall gmtify 
 our friends or annoy our enemies. Or things which 
 persons whom we respect deliberately choose as 
 objects to be attained. Or things for which we are 
 fitted by nature or experience, as then we anticipate 
 that success will be the easier. Or things which 
 are unattainable by any bad person, as such things 
 are more loudly applauded. Or such things as are 
 in fact the objects of our desire ; for these are in our 
 eyes not only pleasant but actually better. And 
 
 that the distinction is between such things as may conditionally 
 and so by implication rarely come to pass and such as are easy or 
 ordinar}' occurrences. 
 
 
46 
 
 THE RHETOKIC 
 
 [I. 
 
 It 
 
 Chap. VII. 
 
 1/ 'v 
 
 w 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 Jlnalli/, whatever it is upon which we are especially 
 bent, it is this that we regard especially as a 
 good, e.g. victory, if we are bent upon victory, 
 honour, if upon honour, money, if upon money, and 
 so on. 
 
 In regard then to what is good and expedient 
 these are the sources from which it is proper to de- 
 rive our proofs. But as it often happens that people 
 while they admit two things both to be expedient^ 
 differ as to the more expedient of the two, it will be 
 ofToSdr^ P^^P^^' as our next point, to consider the greater 
 good or the more expedient of two things which are 
 both admittedly good or expedient 
 
 A thing which exceeds another may be defined as 
 so much and something more ; a thing which is ex- 
 ceeded by another as something included in the 
 other. Also while the terms "greater" and "more" 
 have always a reference to something less "great" 
 and "small," "much" and "little" are relative to the 
 average size of things, that which is called "great" 
 being in excess of this average, that which faUs short 
 of it being called "small"; and similarly the words 
 "much "and "little." 
 
 :N^ow^ by a good we mean that which is desirable 
 for its own sake and not for the sake of something 
 
 1 It is necessary in considering the Greek of this sentence 
 to observe that here, as often in Aristotle, the conclusion does not 
 follow from the clauses of the protasis. The aviyKrj, p 23 L 17 
 has nothing to do with the statements that "a good is something 
 desirable for its own sake," &c. which are only the definitions 
 given at the beginning of the last chapter; but it is a result of the 
 new definition eVro, br, vn.pi^ov ^i. roaovrou Ka\ cVc, Uepey6f..uou 
 d€ TO €inmapxov, although it is not grammatically connected with it 
 
 p. 39. 
 
 I 
 
 !•] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 47 
 
 else and that which is sought by all things or which 
 wouW be choseii by all things, if they should acquire 
 intelligence and sagacity, and that which is produc- 
 
 f hi A^T' U-' °^ '""•' ^^''^ «»• •« attended by 
 them. Also the object of things is their end, and the 
 
 end 18 the object of everything else, and the absolute 
 
 good ,s that which is an end and object u> itself 
 
 It fo lows then that the lai^er number of things is a 
 
 greater good than a single thing or than the smaller 
 
 mimber be reckoned as part of the larger ; for then 
 tAe larger number is in excess of tfJsrrUlerXd 
 that which IS included in the larger is exceeded by 
 
 exc^J'J'h'Jf''^ 'T'* T"^^' ''^''''' ^^'^ «/«*%« 
 exceeds the largest member of another, then the firet 
 
 :^"::o:,"" rr = ^"^^ '^'^^^-'^^' '^ --^ 
 
 exceeds another, the largest member of the fii-st ex- 
 ceeds the largest member of the second. Thus if the 
 tallest man is taller than the tallest woman so are 
 men generally taller than women, and if me^ 're 
 
 taller than the tallest woman ; for the excess of one 
 dass over another is proportional to the excess of the 
 greatest member of the one over the greatest member 
 
 B isTJ "• ^f "' '' ^ '^ ^«"«^"-t -Po» B bu 
 tluL A T~t consequent upon A, B is greater 
 tlmn A, whether the consequence is simultaneous or 
 subsequent or potential'; for then the use of the 
 consequent A is involved in the use of B. (Life 
 
 tione,r;. 2«Tr'" " * "''^' "'^ "' ^""^^<i"^"-' -' -»- 
 
 
; 
 
 p. 39. 
 
 I M 
 
 48 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 it may be said, is consequent upon health shnul- 
 taneously, although the converse is not true, know- 
 ledge upon learning subsequently, and cheating upon 
 sacrilege potentially, as a man who was guilty of 
 sacrilege would not hesitate at cheating.) Again, if 
 there are two things hi excess of a third, the one 
 which exceeds it by the greater amount is the 
 greater, 'as it is necessarily in excess of the greater 
 as well as of the less of the other two things. Things 
 too which are productive of a greater good are 
 greater; for' this is involved, as we have seen, in 
 the conception that a thing is productive of some- 
 thing greater. Similarly, if that which is productive 
 of a thing is greater, the thing itself is greater; thus 
 if what is wholesome is more desirable and a gi^eater 
 good than what is pleasant, so is health greater than 
 pleasure. Again, a thing which is more desirable in 
 itself is a greater good than a thing which is not de- 
 sirable in itself, as e. g. physical strength than whole- 
 some food ; for strength is, and food is not, desirable 
 for its own sake, and this is our definition of a good. 
 Or again, if one of two things is an end, and the 
 other is not, the f(yrmer is the greater good, as being 
 
 1 If this is the meaning of the clause avayicr] yap vntpix^iv koI 
 Tov /ift'Coi/off, the reason alleged is hardly more than a re-statement 
 of the point to be proved, and there is an obscurity in tov n€i(ovos 
 denoting "the greater of the other two things" viz. of ro xm^pt- 
 x6p.€vov and of the less of rh. vntpixovra. Is it possible that the 
 words Ka\ TOV fxeiCovos should be omitted, as being a repetition of 
 
 Ka\ TO. fieiCovosl 
 
 2 The argument, which is a little obscure, is that, if to noirjTiKov 
 ayaeov is dyae6v, as appears from p. 23, L 14, to ttoitjtikov fi€iCovos 
 dyaOov must be fict^oi/ dyadov. 
 
 I 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 49 
 
 desirable for its own sake and not for the sake of 
 something else, like gymnastic exercise for the sake 
 of a good condition of body. Or if there is one thing 
 which stands less in need of external help than some 
 other thing or things, it is a greater good, as being 
 more independent; and this is the case, when its 
 needs are fewer or more easily supplied. Or if A 
 does not exist or cannot come into being without B, 
 but the converse is not true, B is tJien the greater 
 good, the thing which does not require something 
 else being more independent and therefore, as is 
 clear, a greater good. The same is true, if B is an 
 * originating principle and A is not, or if ^ is a cause 
 and A is not, for the same reason, as without a 
 cause or a principle it is impossible that anything 
 should exist or come into being. Again, if there are 
 two such principles or causes, the result of the greater 
 principle or cause is greater ; and conversely, if there 
 are two results, the principle or cause of the gi-eater 
 result is greater. It is clear then from what has 
 been sjiid that a thing may be shoimi to be greater 
 than something else in either of two ways ; for it will 
 appear greater, if it is an originating principle and 
 the other is not, and again, if it is not an originating 
 principle and the other is, as the end of anything is 
 greater and is not an originating principle. It was 
 thus that Leodamas in his accusation of Callistratus 
 argued that he who advised a conspiracy was a greater 
 criminal than he who executed it, on the ground that 
 
 ^ The Aristotelian word dpxri is discussed at considerable 
 length in Mr Cope's note. The classical passage relating to it in 
 Aristotle himself is Metaphysics^ iv. ch. i. 
 
 W. R. 4 
 
50 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [■• 
 
 L> 
 
 \ 
 
 it would never have been executed, if he had not de- 
 vised it, whereas in his accusation of Chabrias he 
 argued that he who executed it was a greater crimi- 
 nal than he who advised it, on the ground that it 
 would never have taken eflFect without somebody to 
 execute it, as it is the execution which is the object 
 of any conspiracy. Again, that which is rarer is 
 greater or more valuable than that which is plen- 
 teous, e.g. gold than iron, although it is not so use- 
 ful ; for the acquisition of it, as being more difficidt 
 is something greater. But there is another sense in 
 which what is plenteous is greater than what is rare 
 as being more abundantly useful ; for frequency of 
 use is superior to rarity, whence the saying '"The best 
 of things is water." It is in fact a general rule that 
 the more difficult of two things, as being the rarer, is 
 gi-eater than the easier, although in another sense the 
 easier, as gratifying our Avishes, may be said to be 
 greater than the more difficult. Again, a thing is 
 greater, if its opposite is greater, or if the depriva- 
 tion of it is greater. ^ virtue is greater than non- 
 virtue, vice than non-vice; for virtue and vice are, and 
 the others are not, ends or complete states. Again if 
 the functions of things are nobler or baser, they are 
 themselves greater. Or if the >ices and virtues of 
 things are greater, so are their functions, as results 
 
 1 Pindar, Olympians, i. 1. 
 
 '^Rhetoric, as Aristotle says, p. 4, 1. 13, r^vavria avW^i^rai, 
 and the supcnonty of virtue to non-virtue or of vice to non-vice 
 i.e. of the positive or complete state to the negative or incomplete 
 IS only, as it were, a rhetorical thesis in which the moral point of 
 view IS disregarded. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 51 
 
 f 
 
 ■■] 
 
 correspond with their causes or originating principles 
 and vixie versa. Things are greater too, if superiority 
 in them is more desirable or nobler ; and 'conversely, 
 if tilings are themselves better and nobler, the ex- 
 cesses of them are also better and nobler. Thus keen- 
 ness of sight is more desirable than keenness of smell, as 
 sight itself is more desirable than smell ; and as it is 
 nobler to be excessively fond of friends than to be ex- 
 cessively fond of money, the love of friends is itself 
 nobler than that of money. Again, the objects of the 
 nobler or better desires are nobler or better ; for the 
 greater impulses are directed to greater ends. So too 
 the desires of nobler and better objects are for the 
 same reason themselves nobler and better. Or if the 
 science which deals with particular subjects is nobler 
 and more moral, so are the subjects ; for as is the sci- 
 ence, so is the truth at tvhlch it airas, and every science 
 is supreme in its own province. Similarly the higher 
 and more moral the subjects, the sciences which deal 
 with them are proportionately more moral and nobler 
 for the same reason. Again, that which would be 
 decided or has been decided by sagacious people, 
 whether by all or almost all or the majority or the 
 ablest of them, to be a good or tlie greater of two 
 goods, must necessarily be such, either absolutely or 
 in so far as their decision was the result of their 
 sagacity. This is a rule which is applicable to every- 
 thing else as well as to goods ; for the nature, quantity 
 and quality of things are always such as science and 
 sagacity would pronounce. But it is only in respect 
 
 * I cannot doubt that the words Koi aim.K€iixiv(os hi...<a\\iovs 
 should be transposed so as to precede the illustrations. 
 
 4—2 
 
 .^.^ t . 
 
52 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 of goods that we have laid it down ; for a good has 
 been defined to be that which would be desired or 
 chosen by each individual thing, if it should acquire 
 sagacity. It is clear then that a thing is a greater 
 good, if it is more strongly pronounced to be so by 
 sagacity, or if it is the property of a superior class 
 either * absolutely or in so far as the class is superior, 
 as e.g. valour is a greater good than strength, or 
 again if it is that which woidd be desired by a su- 
 perior either absolutely or in so far as he is superior, 
 as e.g. to suffer wrong rather than to commit wrong, 
 this being the part which the juster person would 
 choose. Again, that which is pleasanter is a greater 
 good than that which is less pleasant, as all things 
 pursue pleasure and covet it for its own sake, and 
 these are the criteria of the good or the end. But 
 of two pleasant things the pleasanter is that which 
 is the less accompanied by pain and the more per- 
 manent. Again, that which is nobler is a greater 
 good than the less noble ; for what is noble is either 
 what is pleasant or what is intrinsically desirable. 
 Anything which we are particularly anxious to effect 
 for oureelves or our friends is a greater good, as 
 anything which we are least anxious to effect is a 
 greater evil. Also whatever is more permanent or 
 secure is a greater good than what is less so ; for if 
 
 1 Perhaps Aristotle's meaning will be explained by an illustra- 
 tion. If man is superior to the other animals, then it will be 
 true either absolutely that the qualities of a man are higher than 
 those of an animal or in particular that any especial quality which 
 contributes to his superiority, such as valour, will be higher 
 than one, such as strength, which he shares with the animals. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 53 
 
 1.1 
 
 a thing is more permanent, it is longer ours to enjoy, 
 and if it is more secure, it is more an object of desire, 
 as the desire of a thing implies an expectation that 
 the enjoyment of it will be comparatively secure. 
 * Further, in accordance with the rule of co-ordinates 
 or of inflexions of the same roots, what is true of any 
 one such word is true of all. Thus if the term " vali- 
 antly" is nobler and more desirable than the tenn 
 *' temperately," so is "valour" more desirable than 
 " temperance " and " to be valiant " than " to be tem- 
 perate." The object of universal choice is a gi-eater 
 good than the object of a choice which is not uni- 
 versal. The object of the choice of the majority is a 
 greater good than that of the choice of the minority ; 
 for we defined a good as the object of universal 
 desire, and it follows that the object of greater uni- 
 versal desire is a greater good. A thing is a greater 
 good also, if it is judged to be so by our rivals or 
 enemies or by connoisseurs or by a jury selected by 
 connoisseurs ; for in the one case there is a recog- 
 nition which is virtually universal and in the other 
 the recognition of authorities and specialists. It 
 sometimes happens that that which all men possess 
 alike is a greater good, as there is a certain disgrace 
 in not possessing it, and at other times that that 
 which is possessed by nobody or by a few only is a 
 greater good, as being mrer. Again, the objects of 
 
 1 The meaning is made plain by the illustrations given here 
 and p. 96, 11. 25—29. See Mr Cope's notes. It is to be noticed 
 that although ra a-varoixa and at ofioiat nTwaeis are virtually 
 identical expressions, the former refers to the logical conception, 
 the latter to the grammatical form. 
 
54 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 higher praise, as being nobler, are greater goods. So 
 too are all things of which the honours are greater ; 
 for the honour paid to a thing may be regarded as 
 being in some sense its valuation. Things for which 
 the penalties are greater are themselves greater. The 
 same is true of things which are greater than other 
 things confessedly or apparently great Again, the 
 same things may be made to look greater by being 
 divided into their parts; for then 'the points of su- 
 periority seem to be multiplied. Accordingly Hhe 
 poet makes Meleager's wife induce him to arise by 
 reciting : 
 
 ** The ills of men whose city has been ta'en, 
 Their townsfolk perishing, fire-wasted homes 
 And children carried far to servitude." 
 
 Accumulation too and climax, of which Epichar- 
 mus was a master, are means of magnifying a subject, 
 partly for the same reason as division — for the ac- 
 cumulation shows great superiority — and partlg be- 
 cause the subject thus assumes the appearance of being 
 an originating principle and cause of gi-eat results. 
 And as a thing is greater in proportion to its difficulty 
 and its rarity, the greatness may be due to particidar 
 seasons, ages, jilaces, times and faculties. For if an 
 
 ^ Grammatically, nXdovav is, 1 think, governed by virepix^iv. 
 The result of the division into parts is that instead of one virtpox^ 
 there is, so to say, a succession of vTrcpo^at, and the eflfect of the 
 "superiority" is increased. 
 
 2 Homer, Iliad, ix. 588 sqq.; but the quotation does not cor- 
 respond with the ordinary text. Probably the reading here 
 should be o ttoitjttjs <f)r}(ri nelaat t^v yvifoiKa rou MtXtaypou 
 avaoTTJvai X4yov(Tav. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 55 
 
 
 action exceeds a person's faculty, age or stature, or 
 is performed in a particular manner or at a particular 
 place or time, it will acquire a high degi^ee of noble- 
 ness, goodness, justice or the contrary. Hence the 
 epigram on the Olympian victor 
 
 "Once on my back I bore a heavy yoke 
 And carried fish to Tegea from Argos." 
 
 * Iphicrates too was wont to eulogize himself by de- 
 scribing from what he had risen to his present po- 
 sition. Again, a natural talent is a greater good than 
 an acquired accomplishment, as being more difficult. 
 Hence Hhe poet's lines 
 
 " Self-taught am I, &c." 
 
 A thing is magnified too, if it is the greatest part 
 of something great, as when Pericles ' in his funeral 
 oration said that the cutting off of the youth from the 
 State was like taking the spring out of the year. 
 
 1 TO Tov *l(t)iKpdTovs e| olav fls oh, is quoted p. 32, 1. 22. It is 
 said that Iphicrates was the son of a cobbler. 
 
 2 Homer, Odyssey, xxii. 347. It is Phemius who speaks to 
 Odysseus; but the point of the quotation lies not so much in 
 the words quoted as in their context 
 
 dfos 5c fjLOi €V <l>pea\v olp.ai 
 iravToias cVe^vo-fi/' eoi/ca Be roi Trapafideiv 
 woTf ^fw" Tw fxi; /i€ XiXaifo bfiporofifjaai. 
 
 3 It is well known that this famous simile, which is quoted 
 again p. 127, 1. 22, is not found in the funeral oration which 
 Thucydides (Bk. ii. ch. 35-46) has put into the mouth of Pericles. 
 Some commentators, e.g. Gottling and Westermann, think that it 
 is taken from the funeral oration delivered by Pericles after the 
 Samian War, b.c. 440. There are other references, which cannot 
 now be verified, to passages in the speeches of Pericles, p. 118, 
 11. 15 sqq., p. 128,1. 1, p. 146, L 2. 
 
 I 
 
I 
 
 56 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 The same is true of such things as are useful when 
 the necessity is greater, e.g. such things as are useful 
 in old age or in times of sickness. Again, of two 
 things that which is nearer to the end is the greater. 
 That which is good * relatively to the individual as 
 well as absolutely is greaUr than that which is good 
 only in one of these senses. Possibilities are greater 
 goods than impossibilities, as the possible is good 
 relatively to the individual, and the impossible is 
 not. Such things as are inherent or implied in the 
 end of life are greater goods; for all that approxi- 
 mates to the end is in a liigher degree participant 
 in the character of the end. Genuineness of any 
 kind is a greater good than pretence, the test of 
 pretence being that a person would not choose the 
 thing, if there were no chance of his being known to 
 have it. And from this it would seem that it is more 
 desirable to receive benefits than to confer them, as 
 one would choose to receive benefits, even if they 
 were quite unknown, but would probably not choose 
 to confer benefits without getting credit for them. 
 Again, anything of which the reality is preferable 
 to the appearance is a greater good, as being more 
 genuine. This is the reason why justice itself in the 
 eyes of some people is a poor thing, because it is 
 
 ^ Spengel's interpretation, which I have accepted, lays the 
 stress upon the Kai in the phrase r6 avT<a (lavra) koI dTrXwr, the 
 good which is useful both absolutely and relatively to the individual 
 being preferred to the good which is useful either absolutely or 
 relatively to the individual. But if this is the meaning, it would 
 more naturally be expressed by some such words as koi to koX 
 
 avrfp Kai ottXcjs tov rj avT^ rj airX^s. 
 
 !•] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 57 
 
 more desirable to appear just than to be so, whereas 
 the contrary is the case with health. A thing is a 
 greater good, if it is more conducive to various ends, 
 e.g. to life, excellence of life, pleasure and the per- 
 formance of noble deeds. Accordingly wealth and 
 health are esteemed so highly important, because 
 they fulfil all these conditions. So too if a thing 
 involves comparatively little pain and afibrds plea- 
 sure, it is a greater good, as there is a double advan- 
 tage in the attainment of two goods, viz. pleasure and 
 the absence of pain. Again, if we take any two things, 
 the greater is that which by addition to the same 
 thing makes the total greater. Things are greater, 
 if their presence cannot be concealed than if it can ; 
 for in this case they have more the character of 
 reality. Accordingly wealth, Mf it is apparent, must 
 be clearly a greater good. So too is any gift, if it is 
 dearly prized or if it is our all, while our neighbours 
 have other gifts as well. Hence the punishment is 
 greater for destroying the eye of a one-eyed man 
 than of a man who has two eyes, as the one-eyed 
 man is deprived of something which he dearly prizes. 
 
 The proper sources of proofs in exhortation and chap.viii. 
 dissuasion have been now pretty exhaustively de- 
 scribed. But the greatest and most authoritative of 
 all, as a means of persuasion and good counsel, is 
 an acquaintance with all the various forms of polity 
 and an analysis of their several customs, institutions 
 and interests. For it is self-interest which is the 
 dominant force in the world, and whatever is preser- 
 
 1 Reading t<5 Bok^Iu, unless it is permissible to alter /xcICov to 
 fiflov. 
 
58 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 vative of a particular polity is its interest. Further, 
 it is the ^expressed will of the supreme authority 
 which is supreme in any State, and the supreme 
 authorities are different in the different polities, being 
 ciassifica- as numcrous as the polities themselves. "There are 
 pouties. four polities, viz., Democracy, Oligarchy, Aristocracy 
 and Monarchy; consequently the supreme or decisive 
 authority in each case is either some particular part 
 of these polities or the whole. 
 
 A Democracy is a polity in which the offices of 
 State are distributed among the citizens by lot, an 
 Oligarchy one in which they are distributed among 
 the persons who possess a certain property quali- 
 fication, an Aristocracy one in which they are dis- 
 tributed among the educated class, hi sjyeaking 
 of the educated class, I mean such education as is 
 prescribed by the law of the land; for it is such 
 persons as have been ever faithful to their institutions 
 who constitute the official class in an Aristocracy. Such 
 persons will necessarily appear the best {apiaroc) ; 
 hence * Aristocracy' or the government of tJie best 
 is the name which has been given to this polity. 
 Monarchy, as its name implies, is the polity in which 
 an individual is universally supreme ; but it may be 
 (1) constitutional Monarchy or Kingship, or (2) abso- 
 lute Monarchy or Tyranny. 
 The ends or It is espcciallv uecessarv to be acquainted with 
 
 objects of I./. 1 1 1. 
 
 the pouties. the end or object of each several polity, as it is the 
 means conducive to this end which are the objects 
 
 ^ Reading d7r6<l>av<Tis. 
 
 ^ This rapid classification of polities may be compared with 
 Politics, iii. ch. 7. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 59 
 
 I.] 
 
 of the citizens' choice. Tlie end of Democracy 
 is liberty, that of Oligarchy wealth, that of Aris- 
 tocracy the means of education and the institutions 
 of the State, that of Tyranny self-preservation. It is 
 clearly necessary then to distinguish such customs, 
 institutions and interests as are appropriate to the 
 end of each polity, as it is to these that the choice 
 of the citizens has reference. But as ethical no 
 less than demonstrative Rhetoric is an instrument 
 by which proofs are conveyed— for we believe a 
 speaker in virtue of his appearing to possess a certain 
 character, i.e. if he appears to be good or well dis- 
 posed to us or both— it will^be proper that we should 
 apprehend the character of each particular polity, 
 as the character of each will necessarily be the most 
 potent instrument of persuasion in dealing with it. 
 The characters of the several polities will be ascer- 
 tained by the same means as those of individucds; 
 for characters are displayed in the moml pui-pose, 
 and the moral purpose is relative to the end. 
 
 The objects then, whether future, or actually 
 existing, at which we should aim in Rhetoric of a 
 hortatory kind, the sources from which we should 
 derive our proofs in regard to expediency, and lastly 
 the means and method of acquiring ample materials 
 in regard to the characters and institutions of the 
 different polities have been described, so far as was 
 appropriate to the present occasion ; a full and exact 
 discussion of them will be found in the Politics \ 
 
 We have next to discuss virtue and vice, or what chap. ix. 
 is noble and shameful, as these are the objects of RKltoric^*' 
 
 ^ The reference is to the 3rd and 4th Books of the Politics. 
 
 SiTi 
 
60 
 
 k- 
 
 c^ 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 •^>^ 
 
 [1. 
 
 / eulogy and censure. For the discussion of them will 
 ' incidentally serve to indicate the means by which 
 1 we shall ourselves be regarded as persons of a certain 
 p. 11. ^ moral character, (which, as we saw, is a second 
 species of proof), since the same means will enable 
 us to represent both ourselves and others as de- 
 serving of confidence in respect of virtue. And 
 further, as eulogy is often jocular as well as serious, 
 its subjects being not only men or gods but even 
 inanimate things or any animals however insignifi- 
 cant, it is right to provide ourselves in the sanae 
 manner with other propositions respecting these. 
 Let us then treat of them too sufficiently for the 
 purpose of illustration. 
 
 A thing is noble if, while it is desirable for its 
 1 sake, it is laudable, or if, whi 
 is pleasant in virtue of its goodness. 
 Virtue. This being the definition of nobleness, it follows 
 
 that virtue is noble ; for, while it is good, it is also 
 laudable \ By virtue is meant according to the 
 popular idea a faculty of providing and preserving 
 good things and a faculty of conferring many great 
 benefits and indeed benefits of all kinds on all 
 occasions. The elements of virtue are justice, valour, 
 temperance, magnificence, magnanimity, liberality, 
 gentleness, sagacity and speculative wisdom. 
 
 Assuming then that virtue is a faculty of bene- 
 
 Definitioii 
 
 nobielSss. owu sakc, it is laudable, or if, while it is good, it 
 
 The several 
 virtues. 
 
 ^ It is only necessary to compare this off-hand definition of 
 virtue with the definition given in Nicom. Eth. vi. ch. 10 and the 
 discussion of particular virtues which follows it, to see how 
 unphilosophical is Aristotle's treatment of ethical questions in a 
 popular work like the RJietoric. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 61 
 
 I.] 
 
 ficence, we conclude at once that the greatest virtues 
 are those which are in the highest degree serviceable 
 to others. Accordingly none are so highly esteemed 
 as valour and justice, the former being serviceable 
 to others in war, and the latter both in war and 
 in peace. Libemlity comes next, as libeml people 
 are always lavish and never contend with their 
 neighbours in the race for wealth, which is the prin- 
 cipal object of other men's desire. Justice is the 
 virtue to which it is due that individuals possess 
 their own property and possess it in accordance with 
 the law, whereas to injustice it is due that they 
 possess the property of others illegally. Valour is the 
 virtue which inspires people to perfonn noble deeds 
 and such as the law enjoins in the face of perils ; 
 its opposite is cowardice. Temperance or continence 
 is the virtue which leads them to regard all bodily 
 pleasures in the spirit enjoined by the law ; and its 
 opposite is licentiousness or intemperance. Libe- 
 rality is the virtue of the beneficent use of money 
 and is opposed to illiberality. Magnanimity is the 
 virtue which inspires beneficent actions on a large 
 scale', magnificence the virtue which produces 
 grandeur in matters of expenditure, their opposites 
 being pusillanimity and meanness. Lastly, sagacity 
 is an intellectual virtue, rendering people capable 
 judges of the things good and evil which I have 
 described in their relation to happiness. 
 
 Virtue and vice in their general character and Elements of 
 their constituents have now been discussed suf- nobleness 
 ficiently for our present purpose. Nor is it difficult 
 
 ^ Omitting fiiKpoyfrvx^o. 8e rovvavriov. 
 
62 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 
 in the remaining cases to see the truth. It is clear 
 that whatever is productive of virtue, as tending 
 in a virtuous direction, and whatever results from 
 virtue must itself be noble ; and by these I mean 
 the signs of virtue and its effects. And as the signs 
 and all such things as are the effects of good, ' whether 
 active or passive, are noble, it follows that any effect 
 or sign of valour or any deed valiantly done must 
 be noble, and that just deeds and active effects of 
 justice must be noble too, not its passive effects 
 however : for justice is unlike all other virtues in 
 this, that the adverb "justly" has not always a noble 
 sense, but in the case of punishment inflicted it is 
 more disgraceful to be punished justly than unjustly. 
 It follows also that the same is true of the other 
 virtues. Again, a thing is noble, if its prize is 
 honour ; or if its prize is honour rather than money ; 
 or if it is a desirable thing and yet is not done from 
 selfish motives ; or if it is good absolutely, like 'a 
 deed done for one's country without regard to one- 
 self It Is noble too, if it is in its nature good, or 
 
 1 Aristotle illustrates his owii meaning by the examples 
 which follow. To inflict punishment justly would be an tpyov 
 dp€T9js or "active effect of virtue"; to suffer it justly would be a 
 TrdBos dpcTfjs or "passive effect of virtue." 
 
 * Reading virep rrji narpidos. The passage, as it stands, can 
 only be regarded as a striking example of the Greek way of 
 looking upon the individual as properly and absolutely a part of 
 his State. But it mav be doubted whether services rendered to 
 the State should not constitute a special class of moral actions. 
 The true text ought then to be kqI o<ra vrrcp ttjs Trarpibos ns 
 (TTolr](T€, napiduv to avTov. koi rd dnXas dya6d. kql ra rg (f>v(T€L 
 dyadd, k.t.X. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 63 
 
 if it is not good only in relation to the individual, 
 as individual interests are always selfish. Or again 
 if it is soniething capable of enjoyment after death 
 rather than in life ; for there is more of selfishness 
 in the enjoyments of life. Or if it is any work un- 
 dertaken for the sake of others, as being less selfish. 
 Or any service rendered to one's neighbours and 
 not to oneself Or a service rendered to one's bene- 
 factors, as being a just return. Or any beneficent 
 action, as being unselfish in its object. Or the op- 
 posite of anything of which one is ashamed ; for we 
 are ashamed of saying or doing or intending to say or 
 do anything shameful, as may be illustrated by the 
 lines of Sappho in reply to the confession of Alcaeus 
 that he would " fiiin speak, but shame forbade." 
 
 " ^ If thou would'st say aught good or wise 
 Nor meditate to speak some ill, 
 Shame should not sit upon thine eyes 
 But thou should'st rightly say thy will." 
 
 Or again anything about which we distress our- 
 selves although without a sense of fear ; for this 
 is our natural attitude in regard to all such good 
 things as conduce to reputation. The virtues and fc^^P^J^f " 
 functions of the class which is naturally higher in 
 the moral scale are themselves nobler, those of a| 
 man e.g. than those of a woman. The virtues whicl 
 
 ^ The reading of this Fragment, as given by Bergk, seems to 
 be best. 
 
 at 5' ^X*^ ea-Xcdv Tp.€pov fj KaXtov, 
 Koi p.rj Tt Feirrrjv yXa>(r(r €KVKa kukov, 
 ai8<os K€ (T ov KLxavfv o/x/xar 
 aXX* eXcycf Trepl rcu diKaiois, 
 
 
64 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [■• 
 
 I 
 
 
 V 
 
 y 
 
 Rhetorical 
 artifices. 
 
 afford gratification to our neighbours rather than 
 to ourselves me the nobler; hence the nobleness 
 of just conduct and of justice in the abstract. It 
 / is nobler too to avenge ourselves upon our enemies 
 / instead of making up our quarrels with them, partly 
 because retaliation is just and just conduct is noble, 
 and partly because a brave man should never be 
 beaten. Victory and honour may both be reckoned 
 as noble ; for they are desirable in spite of their 
 unproductiveness and are evidences of superiority in 
 virtue. Such things too as are memorable are noble, 
 and the nobler in proportion as they are more 
 memorable. 'Such things as survive one's death, 
 or such as are attended by honour, or such as are 
 exceptional are also rwble. Things of which one 
 is the sole possessor are nobler, as being more easily 
 remembered. So are all unproductive properties, 
 as being more gentlemanly. Again, a thing is noble 
 if it is a speciality of a certain class, or if it is an 
 /indication of something admired among a particular 
 / people as e.g. the practice of wearing the hair long 
 I at Lacedaemon, as a sign of gentility ; for if a pei-son 
 has long hair, he cannot easily do any menial work. 
 It is noble to abstain from all mechanical arts, as 
 gentility is incompatible with dependence upon 
 another. It is a good plan, if a person is in pos- 
 session of certain qualities, to represent the qualities 
 which are nearly allied to these as being identical 
 with them, whether the object we have m view is 
 
 1 These are not the same things as are mentioned, p. 30, 1. 34, 
 but rather things, as e.g. glory, which, although they may be 
 enjoyed during life, are yet not terminated by deatlu 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 65 
 
 eulogy or censure, e.g. to represent a cautious person 
 as cold and designing, a simpleton as a good worthy 
 fellow, and a phlegmatic person as easy-tempered. 
 *In fact, in every case we may take the nearest 
 qualities and on the strength of them represent a 
 person in the best light; if he is passionate e.g. or 
 furious, calling him an honest fellow, if he is churlish, 
 'proud and dignified, and so on. One who has any 
 quality in excess may be represented as having the 
 corresponding virtue, a foolhardy person e.g. as 
 courageous, or a spendthrift as liberal ; for the state- 
 ment will commend itself to ordinary minds and will 
 at the same time lead to a fallacy by confusion of 
 motives, since if a person shews a venturesome spirit 
 without necessity, it will seem that he will do so 
 it fortiori where his honour is concerned, and, if he 
 is lavish in his dealings with strangers, it will seem 
 that he will be still mmx lavish in his dealings with 
 friends, as it is an excess of virtue to be everybody's 
 benefactor. 
 
 Another point is to consider the audience in a 
 panegyrical speech, for, as ^Socmtes said, it is easy 
 enough to be the panegyrist of the Athenians 
 
 ^ Although it is convenient to begin a fresh sentence here, 
 the construction is unbroken, and there should perhaps be a 
 comma, instead of a full stop, after npaov. 
 
 * Mr Cope naturally wishes for yLfya\6^\tvxov here, in place of 
 /xfyoXoTTpfTpJ. Still Aristotle's definition of fieydkoyjrvxia, p. 30, 
 1. 10, would not suit the present passage. In the Platonic opoi 
 fi€yaXo7rp€7r€ia is defined as d^iaxrn Kara Xoyiafiov opBov rou 
 o-f/ivoToroi/, and /ic-yoXo^vxta itself as /ieyaXoTrperrcta yj/'vxfjs ftrra 
 Xdyou. 
 
 ^ Plato, Menexenus, p. 235 D. 
 
 W. R. 5 
 
66 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 1 I 
 
 » 
 
 at Athens. It is proper to attribute to the subject 
 of the speech such qualities as are held in honour 
 among the particular people to whom it is addressed, 
 whether they are Scythians or Lacedaemonians or 
 philosophers. It is a good general rule to invest 
 the qualities so held in honour with a character 
 of moral nobleness, as what is honourable and what 
 is noble seem to be closely allied. 
 
 A deed is noble, if it accords with expectation, 
 e.g. if it is worthy of a person's lineage and ante- 
 cedents, as there is a source of happiness and an 
 element of nobleness in the acquisition of additional 
 honour. It is the same if it exceeds expectation 
 by attaining to a higher standard of goodness or 
 nobleness, as when a person behaves with moderation 
 in prosperity or preserves his elevation of mind in 
 adversity or is better and more conciliatory as he 
 increases in importance. Witness the saying of 
 Iphicrates : 
 
 '• How low I was ! how great am I become ! '* 
 or the epigram upon the Olympian victor, 
 
 1 " Once on my back I bore a heavy yoke," 
 
 or Hhat of Simonides upon the lady, 
 
 "Whose father, husband, brethren all were kings." 
 
 1 It may be doubted from this passage whether Aristotle 
 would have agreed with some ancient authorities in attributing 
 this epigram to Simonides. 
 
 2 The epigram is given in full by Thucydides, vi. 59. Archedise, 
 who is the subject of it, was one who had preserved her moderation 
 in prosperity, 
 
 Tj irarpoi T€ koi dpbpos ad(\<l>6iv t ovaa Tvpdwav 
 7raiba>p r ovk rjpO^ ^'ovv €S draaOaXiriv. 
 
 •^.^sy^^^jL^ \^^tXju<^Jt^ ojl 
 
 \J^-^ 
 
 t^ 
 
 V rfX.>>-'^ 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. ^7 
 
 Again, as the subjects of eulogy are actions and 
 it is characteristic of a virtuous person that he acts 
 in accordance with a moral purpose, we must make 
 it our endeavour to prove that the hero of our 
 speech has a moral purpose in his actions. To this 
 end it is useful that he should be shewn to have j 
 frequently acted in the same way. Accordingly mere / 
 coincidences and happy accidents should be repre-J 
 sented as actions of deliberate purpose ; for if a 
 large number of similar actions are alleged, there 
 will seem to be here a sign of virtue and moral 
 purpose. 
 
 , Eulogy is speech setting forth magnitude of Definition 
 ^virtue. It is the business then of an orator in etdogy pistinction 
 to demonstrate that the actions of his hero are eulogy and 
 
 panegyric. 
 
 virtuous. But a paneg}Tic has reference to accom- 
 plished results, and the attendant circumstances, , 
 such as rank and education, are merely confirmatory 
 from the natural presumption that the children of 
 virtuous parents will be virtuous, and that the re- 
 cipient of a good education will be good. * Hence 
 when we pronounce a panegyric upon anyone, we 
 pronounce it for something that he has already done. 
 But the accom]>lished results are praised as being 
 indications of the moral state ; for we should eulo- 
 gize a person even without his actual performance 
 of the deeds, if we believed him to be capable of 
 performing them. Felicitation and congratulation, Felicitation 
 it may be observed, although themselves identical, gratuiation. 
 are not identical with eulogy and panegyric ; still, 
 
 ^ The hio follows from the words to S* iyKutpnov tu>v tpya>v 
 eariv, the intervening words being unnecessary to the conclusion. 
 
 5—2 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 Means of 
 exaggera- 
 tion. 
 
 68 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 as virtue is included in happiness, so are these in- 
 eluded in congratulation. 
 
 There is a community in kind however between eu- 
 .ogy and counsel, inasmuch as the suggestions which 
 you would make in giving counsel may by a change 
 of expression be rendered panegyrical. Thus as we 
 have ascertained the points of good conduct and 
 character, it is only necessary to change and shift 
 the form of expression in order to put them forward 
 as suggestions. Let us take as an 'example the 
 sentiment that we ought not to be proud of what 
 Fortune has done for us but only of what we have 
 done for ourselves. Put it so, and it is virtually a 
 suggestion. But put it in this way, "Proud not of 
 what Fortune has done for him but of what he has 
 done for himself," and the sentence becomes eulo- 
 gistic. We arrive then at the following rule, that, 
 if eulogy is your object, you should consider what 
 you would suggest, if suggestion, you should con- 
 sider what you would eulogize. But the expression 
 will be contradictory in the ttvo cases, 'when the 
 prohibitive and the non-prohibitive elements are 
 interchanged. cx•^^-^ JU^^^^-Ci 
 
 Again, there are various means of exaggeration to 
 be employed. It may be said e.g. that our hero is the 
 only person or the first to have done a particular 
 deed or has been almost single-handed or the chief 
 agent in doing it, all these being points which enhance 
 
 1 The example is taken from two passages of Isocrates, 
 Panath. § 35 and Emg. § 52. 
 
 2 In the "suggestive" form of expression pride is prohibited, 
 in the "eulogistic" it is not prohibited but rather enjoined. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 69 
 
 the nobleness of the deed. Then there are the cir- 
 cumstances of time and opportunity, if they exceed 
 reasonable expectation. There may be the fact that 
 he has been often successful in the same under- 
 taking ; a fact which not only increases its im- 
 portance but is calculated to convey the impression 
 that the success has not been an accidental result 
 but has been due to his own exertions. Or it may 
 be the case that especial incentives and distinctions 
 have been devised or were instituted in his honour. 
 Or that he is the first person who was the subject 
 of a panegyric, like * Hippolochus, or i\\e first for whmn 
 some special compliment was devised^ like the erec- 
 tion of a statue in the market-place for Harmodius 
 and Aristogiton. And what is true of signal dis- 
 tinctions is not less true of their opposites. 
 
 Further, if you cannot find much to say about compari- 
 your hero himself, it is proper to contrast him with 
 other people, after the manner which ^Isocrates 
 adopted owing to his inexperience in forensic ora- 
 tory. But the persons with whom you compare him 
 must be persons of reputation, as superiority to 
 persons who are confessedly virtuous lends new 
 ilignity and nobleness to the character. Exaggera- 
 tion naturally finds a place in eulogies ; for it is a 
 means of establishing superiority, and superiority 
 is one kind of nobleness. It follows that, even if 
 you cannot compare your hero with persons of 
 
 1 Nothing is known, except from this passage, of Hippolochus. 
 
 '^ It seems most probable that Aristotle regarded Isocrates 
 as having introduced into his forensic speeches the habit of com- 
 parison which was better adapted to panegyrical orations. 
 
70 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 \% 
 
 Hi 
 
 f 
 
 The charac- 
 teristics of 
 the three 
 kinds of 
 Rhetoric. 
 
 / 
 
 Chap. X. 
 
 Forensic 
 Rhetoric. 
 Accusation 
 and defence, 
 
 The three 
 points. 
 
 Definition 
 of crime. 
 
 reputation, yet it is best to compare him with some 
 other persons, as superiority is taken to indicate 
 
 virtue. 
 
 It may be laid down as a general rule that, of 
 the characteristics which are common to the three 
 styles of Rhetoric, exaggeration is most appropriate 
 to the epideictical style— for as the facts are taken 
 for granted hi this style, it only remains to invest 
 them with grandeur and dignity— examples to tlie" 
 deliberative style, as in this we divine and infer the 
 future from the past ; and enthymemes to the fo- 
 rensic style, as in this the obscurity of the facts 
 leaves the largest room for deduction and demon- 
 stration. 
 
 So much then for the general materials of eulog}' 
 and censure, the proper objects to be observed in 
 both and the sources of panegyric or abuse. For 
 having ascertained the one we can at once see their 
 opposites, as the materials of censure are exactly 
 opposed to those of eulogy. 
 
 Coming now to accusation and defence, we liave 
 next to describe the number and nature of the 
 materials proper for the construction of the syllo- 
 gisms. There are three points whicli we have to 
 ascertain, viz. (1) the nature and number of the 
 objects of crime, (2) the dispositions of the criminals, 
 and (3) the character and condition of the victims. 
 But in the first instance it is necessary to define 
 crime. 
 
 Crime may be said to be injury voluntarily in- 
 flicted in defiance of the law. But law may be either 
 particular or universal. I mean by "particular" the 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 71 
 
 I.] 
 
 written law which regulates the life of the citizens Particular 
 in any polity and by "universar' the unwritten prin- versaiiaw. 
 ciples which may be said to be universally recognized. 
 
 Voluntary action is all such action as is performed vo^^^t^ry 
 with knowledge and not under compulsion. Now an 
 action may be voluntarily performed without being 
 deliberately purposed ; but if it is done of deliberate 
 puriM)se, it is always done knowingly, as nobody is 
 ignorant of his own purposes. 
 
 The causes of a deliberate purpose to conmiit causes o^^^ 
 injury and to do evil in defiance of the law are vice ^^.^^mit 
 and incontinence. For if there are certain people 
 wlio have vicious habits, whether one or several, it 
 is in the particular respect in which they are vicious 
 that they are apt to commit crimes,— an illiberal 
 pei-son e.g. in respect of money, a licentious person 
 in his sensual pleasures, an effeminate person in his 
 luxuries, a coward in dangers, by leaving his com- 
 rades in the lurch from personal fear, an ambitious 
 person from the love of honour, a passionate person 
 from anger, an emulous person from the love of 
 victory, a vindictive person to gratify his revenge, a 
 foolish person from his mistaken notion of justice and 
 injustice, a shameless person from disregard of public 
 opinion, 'and so each individual in respect of his own 
 particular subject 
 
 Tliis is a matter however which will be sufficiently 
 clear partly from the description already given of the p. eo. 
 several virtues and partly from the remarks which we 
 shall have occasion to make when we come to discuss pp.nssqq. 
 the emotions. It remains for us now to describe the 
 * Putting only a comma after b6$rjs. 
 
/ 
 
 72 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 i 
 
 til 
 
 (I) The 
 objects of 
 cnine. 
 
 i 
 
 Causes of 
 
 human 
 
 action. 
 
 f 
 
 [I. 
 
 objects of crime, the conditions under which people 
 commit it and its victims. 
 
 Let us begin with a classification of the objects, 
 the attainment or avoidance of which is the motive 
 inciting to crime. For it is cleariy the duty of the 
 prosecutor to consider the nature and number of 
 such of these objects as are present to his * adversary 
 and that of the defendant to consider the nature and 
 number of such as are not present to him. 
 
 All our actions are either due to ourselves or not. 
 If they are not, they are either due to chance or else 
 arise from necessity, and, if necessary, are done either 
 under compulsion or by nature. The result is that 
 all such actions as are not due to ourselves are done 
 either by chance or by nature or under compulsion. 
 Actions on the other hand which are due to ourselves 
 and of which we ourselves are the authors may be 
 due either to habit or to impulse and, if to the latter, 
 either to rational or irrational impulse. ^The one 
 of these is the wish, which is an impulse towards 
 good ; for nobody wishes a thing, unless he conceives 
 it to be good ; the irrational impulses are e.g. anger 
 and desire. 
 
 ^ To sum up then ; all our actions are necessarily 
 due to seven causes, viz. chance, nature, compulsion, 
 
 ^ Omitting tis unnecessary the words c5v €(f)i€^€voi rrdims rovt 
 7r\r)(riov adiKOvat. 
 
 - There is no need to insert /SovXi/o-tj d' as in Bekker's text, 
 although it makes t]ie meaning a little plainer. 
 
 3 It would be better to put a full stop after eVt^/iia, as the 
 sentence beginning aare iravra oa-a nparrova-iv sums up the results 
 of the two preceding sections. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 73 
 
 habit, * reasoning, passion and desire. It is super- 
 fluous to make a further classification of actions 
 according to periods of life or moral states or any 
 other occurrences ; for if it happens as a matter of 
 fact that the young have quick tempers and strong 
 desires, yet it is not their youth but anger or desire 
 which is the cause of their passionate and sensual 
 actions. Nor again can wealth and poverty be de- 
 scribed as causes of action ; it happens as a matter of 
 fact that the poor from their indigence are desirous of 
 money and that the rich from their abundance desire 
 the pleasures of luxury, but in these cases as before 
 the cause of the actions will be not wealth and 
 poverty but their desire. The same is true of persons 
 who are just or unjust and of others whose actions are 
 said to be regulated by their moral states; it will be 
 either reason or emotion which is the cause of their 
 actions, although in some cases good characters and 
 emotions, and in others the reverse. Still it is the 
 fact that particular qualities are the accompaniments 
 of particular moml states. No sooner, it may be 
 said, is a person temperate than in virtue of his 
 temperance good opinions and desires in regard to 
 pleasures wait upon him, while contrary opinions 
 and desires in regard to pleasures wait upon one 
 who is destitute of self-restraint. It is right there- 
 fore, while we abandon such classifications as have 
 been mentioned, to consider the connexion of par- 
 ticular qualities with particular classes ; for although 
 a person may be fair or dark, tall or short without 
 any of the qualities in question regularly following, 
 
 ^ Xoytc/xoff is equivalent to XoyiariKr) 6p€^is of 1. 20. 
 
Ill 
 
 
 jl 
 
 74 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 
 y 
 
 II » I 
 
 f 
 
 (2) nature, 
 
 ( 
 
 [I- 
 
 yet it does necessarily make a difference whether 
 
 he is young or old or just or unjust. And it is right 
 
 to consider generally all such accidental circumstances 
 
 as produce differences of moral character. It will 
 
 make a difference e.g. to a person whether he believes 
 
 himself to be rich or poor, fortunate or unfortunate. 
 
 Postponing then this question for the present, let 
 
 us first proceed to the points which still remain. 
 
 The causes 'A thing is the result of chance, if its cause is 
 
 SJn'jSd: indeteiminate and if it is not directed to any object 
 
 (1) chance, ^^ ^^^g ^^^^ occur invariably or usually or by any 
 
 regular law, as indeed is evident from the definition 
 
 of chance. 
 
 It may be said to occur by nature, if its cause 
 is self-contained and regular; for then it happens 
 invariably or usually in the same way. For we need 
 not endeavour to determine accurately whether vio- 
 lations of the law of Nature happen in accordance 
 with some natural law or with another cause, although 
 the more probable view is that such occurrences are 
 also caused by chance. 
 
 Again, a thing is said to be done under compul- 
 sion, if it is done against the desire or mtional facul- 
 ties of the agents themselves. 
 
 It is done by habit, if the reason for doing it 
 is that it has been often done by the same person 
 before. 
 
 ^ The early chapters of the Second Book of the <t>v(nKri aKpoa- 
 aii should be studied in connexion with this passage. The 
 distinction between ij t^x*; and to avVofiaroi/, which is there em- 
 phasized, would be out of place in a popular treatise like the 
 Rhetoric. 
 
 (3) com 
 pulsion. 
 
 (4) habit, 
 
 1."] OF ARISTOTLE. 75 
 
 To the influence of reason may be ascribed all (s) reason, 
 such actions as have an air of expediency in ac- 
 cordance with the catalogue of goods already given, pp.39 8qq. 
 whether as ends or as means to ends, when it is the 
 expediency which is the cause of the action — a limi- 
 tation which Is necessary, inasmuch as it sometimes 
 happens that the actions of persons who have no 
 self-restraint are expedient, although the cause of 
 them is not their expediency, but pleasure. 
 
 Passion and anger are the causes of revengeful (6) anger, 
 acts. There is a distinction, it may he observed, 
 between revenge and punishment ; for the object 
 of punishment is the reformation of the sufferer, and 
 that of revenge the gratification of the agent 
 
 The nature of anger will be seen in our treatment p. iis. 
 of the emotions. 
 
 Desire is the cause of all such actions as appear (7):de8ire. 
 pleasant, and among them of actions with which we 
 are familiar or to which we are habituated ; for there 
 are many things, even such as are not naturally 
 pleasant, which we do with pleasure after habitua- 
 tion. 
 
 In a word then all such actions as are due to 
 ourselves are either good or apparently good or 
 pleasant or apparently i^leasant. And further, as 
 actions which are due to ourselves are done volun- 
 tarily and actions which are not due to ourselves 
 are done involuntarily, it follows that all voluntary 
 actions must be either good or apparently good or 
 pleasant or apparently pleasant ; for I reckon as 
 a good the deliverance from evils either real or 
 apparent or the exchange of a greater evil for a 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 76 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 smaller one, as being events which are in a certain 
 sense desirable, and on the same principle I reckon 
 as a pleasure the deliverance from painful things 
 whether real or apparent, or the exchange of a 
 greater pain for a smaller one. It is necessary then 
 to ascertain the number and character of such things 
 as are expedient or pleasant. It follows that, as 
 expediency has been already discussed under the 
 head of deliberative oratory, we have now to discuss 
 pleasure. But we must regard our definitions as 
 satisfactory, if upon any point they are neither ob- 
 scure nor yet exact. 
 CHAP. XL Let us assume that pleasure is a certain motion 
 KeSSre. of the soul and a sudden and sensible settling of the 
 soul into its normal and natural state ; and that 
 pain is the opposite. 
 
 Such being the nature of pleasure, it is evident 
 that everything which tends to produce the con- 
 dition described is itself pleasant, and everything 
 which tends to destroy it or produce a settling of 
 an opposite kind is painful. It follows at once then 
 that the return to the natural condition is generally 
 pleasant, * and never so pleasant as when the pro- 
 cesses of nature have attained their full natural de- 
 velopment. It follows also that habits are pleasant ; 
 for that to which we are habituated becomes, as 
 being so, virtually natural, as habit is in a certain 
 sense a second nature, owing to the close connexion 
 between the usual, which is the sphere of habit, and 
 
 1 The meaning is apparently that the pleasure is keenest 
 when not only the general laws of Nature but the bye-laws of 
 one's own individual nature have been satisfied. 
 
 Pleasures 
 and pains. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 77 
 
 the invariable, which is the sphere of Nature. Again, 
 anything that is not done under compulsion is 
 pleasant, as compulsion is a violation of Nature. 
 Accordingly all necessity is painful, as has been truly 
 said* 
 
 " Need-be is evermore a thing of pain." 
 
 Acts of attention too or serious effort or strong ex- 
 ertion must be painful, as they involve necessity and 
 compulsion, unless one is habituated to them, in 
 which case habit renders them pleasant. The op- 
 posites of these are pleasant. Accordingly all con- 
 ditions of ease, comfort or inattention, amusements, 
 recreations and sleep may be reckoned as pleasures, 
 none of these having a character of necessity. Any- 
 thing of which we have a natural desire is pleasant ; 
 for desire itself is an impulse to pleasure. But Rational 
 desires may be either rational or irrational. I de- tionai 
 scribe as irrational desires all such as do not spring 
 from any definite theory, meaning all natural desires, 
 as they are called, such as those of which the body 
 is the necessary instrument, e.g. the desire of food, 
 viz. himger and thirst ^and so on, or desires of 
 the taste, of sexual love and of the touch in all 
 its forms or of the smell, the hearing and the sight 
 Rational desires on the other hand are all such as 
 originate in conviction, as there are many things 
 which we are desirous of seeing and acquiring from 
 the report of them and from a conviction of tlieir 
 excellence. 
 
 desires. 
 
 ^ The saying is attributed to Evenus of Paros. 
 * Omitting Tpo<i>rji and in 1. 14 ^vMas, 
 
n 
 
 I1< 
 
 I* 
 
 P 
 
 78 THE RHETORIC [}» 
 
 As pleasure then consists in the sensation of some 
 emotion, and impression is a kind of feeble sensation, 
 Pleasures of ^memory or anticipation must be attended by a cer- 
 o?mi^r tain impression of the object remembered or antici- 
 pated. If this is so, it is clear that, as there is sen- 
 sation, there are accompanying pleasures also in 
 memory and anticipation. Consequently, all pleasant 
 things must consist either in the sensation, if they 
 are present, or in the memory, if they are past, or 
 in the anticipation, if they are fixture ; for the present 
 is the object of sensation, the past of memory and the 
 future of anticipation. Now the objects of recollection 
 are pleasant not only if they were pleasant at the 
 actual time at which they happened but in some 
 cases even if they were not pleasant, provided that 
 the consequence of them has been noble and good. 
 Hence the lines 
 
 and 
 
 2'*Ti8 pleasant to remember ills survived" 
 
 ^'*For there is after-pleasure e'en in woes 
 
 For one remembering toils and troubles past,** 
 
 1 Upon the whole there seems to be no sufficient reason for 
 changing the reading or punctuation of the passage. It is true 
 that the apodosis, Kau r^ fx(tivr}fi4u<o k.t.\. is not a legitimate con- 
 clusion from the clauses of the protasis; but this is often, if not 
 generally, the case in Aristotle. It is his object hero to extend 
 the meaning of pleasure from the actually pleasurable sensation 
 of the moment to the remembrance of past or the anticipation of 
 future sensations. Cp. <^v(n»c^ aKpoaais, vii. ch. 3, p. 274 a sqq. 
 
 - From the Andromeda of Euripides. 
 
 3 Homer, Odyssey, xv. 400—1 ; but in the Homeric text the 
 second line runs thus : 
 
 oo-Tts hr) fiaka noWa iraBrj Koi ttoXX' (nakrjOfj. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 79 
 
 the reason being that the mere deliverance from evil 
 is pleasant. Tlie objects of anticipation are pleasant, 
 if their presence appears to be a source of great 
 delight or benefit and of such benefit as is unattended 
 by pain. In fact it is a general rule that whatever by 
 its presence is a source of delight is usually a source 
 of delight in anticipation or recollection. It is thus 
 that there is a pleasure in being angry, as appears 
 e. g. from Homer's description of passion 
 
 ^"Far sweeter than the flowing stream of honey." 
 
 For nobody is angry with those who are evidently 
 beyond the reach of revenge or greatly superior to 
 himself in power; '^or, if we are angry with them 
 at all, our anger is mitigated. In the great majority 
 of desires too there is some attendant pleasure, as 
 we experience a certain sort of pleasure either from 
 the recollection of past, or froui the anticipation of 
 future enjoyment. Thus fever-patients derive a plea- 
 sure from their thirsty moments by the recollection 
 of past, or the anticipation of future draughts. 
 Lovers too find a pleasure in talking or writing about 
 the object of their love or in ever doing something of 
 which he is the object, as in all this their recollection 
 of him seems to them to amount to actual sensation. 
 It is indeed ever the beginning of affection to find 
 pleasure not only in a person's presence but in the 
 recollection of him too when he is away. And ac- 
 cordingly even when the loss of his presence is pain- 
 
 * Iliad, xviii. 108—110. The word which Homer uses is not 
 $vfi6s but xo^os. 
 
 2 It is necessary to insert dXX*, as in Bekker's text. 
 
other 
 pleasures. 
 
 > 
 
 1' I I 
 
 80 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 fill to US, there is still a kind of pleasure arising 
 in our very regrets and lamentations; for although 
 there is pain in the loss of him, yet is there a 
 pleasure in recollecting him and almost seeing him 
 and his very actions and the manner of man that 
 he was. Hence the appropriateness of the words 
 1" He spake and in them stirred the love of tears." 
 
 Again, there is a pleasure in revenge. For where 
 failure is painful, success is pleasant ; and as angry 
 men are pained beyond all measure by the failure 
 to gnitify their revenge, they are equally delighted by 
 the anticipation of it. 
 
 Victory too is pleasant, pleasant to us all, not 
 only to those who always hate to be beaten. The 
 reason is that we experience an impression of supe- 
 riority, and superiority is an object of desire to all 
 in a less or a greater degree. And from the pleasure 
 of victory follows the pleasure of all amusements 
 which are contests of strength or wit, as they atford 
 many opportunities of victory, games of knuckle- 
 bones or tennis or dice or draughts. The same re- 
 mark applies to serious amusements ; they either 
 become pleasant by habit or are pleasant from the 
 first, as e.g. the chase and every variety of field- 
 sports ; for wherever there is competition, there is 
 victory. This too is the explanation of the pleasure 
 which the Bar and the Debating Society aflbrd to 
 all experienced and able speakers. 
 
 1 A line which occurs more than once in the Homeric poems, 
 e.g. Iliady xxiii. 108, when Achilles has seen and sought to hold 
 the shade of Patroclus, Odyssey ^ iv. 113 when Menelaus has told 
 to Telemachus the tale of his sorrow for Odysseus. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 81 
 
 Again, there are few things so pleasant as honour 
 and a good reputation ; for the consequence of pos- 
 sessing them is an impression that one is a virtuous 
 sort of person, especially if this is the opinion of 
 those in whose judgment one has confidence, i.e. of 
 neighbours rather than of those wiio live at a distance, 
 of friends and fellow-citizens rather than of strangers, 
 of contemporaries rather than of posterity, of sensible 
 people rather than of fools, of a number of people 
 rather than of a few, as these classes of people are 
 more likely to form a true judgment than their 
 opposites. It is necessary however that the classes 
 should he capable of judging; for if they are such as 
 one regards with a strong contempt, e.g. as children 
 or animals, there is no regard paid to their respect or 
 opinion, at least for its own sake or unless for some 
 independent reason. 
 
 There is pleasure too in a friend ; for love Ms 
 pleasant — nobody e.g. can be said to be a lover of 
 wine who does not find pleasure in it — and it is 
 pleasant to be the object of another's love, as here 
 again one has an impression of possessing a good 
 character, which is the desire of every sentient being. 
 But to be loved is to be esteemed for one's own sake. 
 
 Again, it is pleasant to be an object of admiration, 
 if only for the esteem which it implies. 
 
 Again, there is a pleasure in flattery and in a 
 flatterer, as a flatterer is ostensibly an admirer and 
 friend. Or in frequent repetition of the same actions ; 
 for habit, as has been already said, is pleasant. Or p. 76. 
 
 ^ There is a diflficulty here, as elsewhere, in translating <^iXeti/, 
 where it varies between "loving" and ''liking." 
 
 W. R. 6 
 
82 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 l> 
 
 [I- 
 
 again in change, as being a return to Nature ; for 
 perpetual uniformity produces an excess of the 
 normal state. Hence the saying \ "Change ever is 
 delight." This is the reason why occasional visitors 
 or occasional events are always pleasant, as not only 
 do they imply a change from the existing condition, 
 but the occasional is necessarily rare and therefore 
 pleasant. Wonder and learning too are generally 
 pleasant ; wonder, because it necessarily involves the 
 desire of learning, and therefore the wonderful is an 
 object of desire, and learning, because it involves a 
 settling' into a person's proper natural condition. 
 Again, it is pleasant to receive benefits or to confer 
 them ; for the former implies the satisfaction of our 
 desires, and the latter implies possession and su- 
 periority, which are both natural objects of ambition. 
 And as the poAver of conferring benefits is pleasant, 
 it follows that there is a pleasure in setting up our 
 neighbours again after a failure and in^ supplying 
 such deficiencies as are seen in them. From the 
 pleasure of learning and Avonder it results that there 
 is a pleasure in such things as the imitative* arts, e.g. 
 
 * Euripides, Orestes, 228. 
 
 2 The reason assigned here for the pleasure found in learning 
 accords with the definition of pleasure at the beginning of the 
 chapter. But it strikingly shews the Aristotelian sense of <^v<rii 
 as 'the perfect or nonnal state of anything," the fifth of the 
 senses of <^v<ri.i distinguished by Sir A. Grant in his note on 
 Nicom. Eth. ii. ch. 1. 
 
 3 Perhaps the words Ka\ to to. tWiirrj cVtrfXcIy are not in place 
 here ; they occur again p. 41, 1. 25. 
 
 * It can hardly be doubted that to fxi^iovfitvov is transitive and 
 not, as Mr Cope supposes, passive in its meaning. The first 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 83 
 
 painting, sculpture and poetry, or in any successful 
 imitative work, even if the actual object of imitation 
 is not pleasant ; as it is not the pleasantness of the 
 object which produces the pleasure but an inference* 
 from the copy to the original and in consequence of it 
 a kind of learning. Catastrophes in tf-ar/ic ])lai/s and 
 hairbreadth escapes from perils are all pleasant, as 
 being all wonderful. 
 
 Further, as what is natural is always pleasant, and 
 things which are cognate have a natural relation to 
 each other, it is a general rule that all such things as 
 are cognate and similar are pleasant to each other, 
 e.g. a man to a man, a horse to a horse, and a youth 
 to a youth. Hence the proverbial sayings, " Cmbbed 
 age and youth," "Like to likeV "One beast knows 
 another," '* Birds of a feather" and the like. But as 
 things which are similar and cognate are pleasant to 
 each other, and every ^ one stands in this relation 
 preeminently to himself, the result is that all people 
 are lovers of self in a higher or lower degree ; for all 
 the conditions of self-love exist preeminently in the 
 relation of an individual to himself. And all people 
 being lovers of their own selves, the result is that 
 
 chapter of the Poetic illustrates the conception of Poetry as an 
 imitative art. 
 
 ^ For the nature of the inference see Poetic, ch. 4. It is not, 
 I think, the discovery of some new quality or feature in the 
 object imitated, but the recognition that the copy is the same 
 thing as, or in other words is an imitation of, the original. 
 
 - The Homeric line {Odyssey xvii. 218) is in full 
 
 G)ff aid TOP ofjLOLOV uy€i ^€oy (os top ofioiov. 
 
 ^ The words npus iavrop eKaa-ros tovto nenovOfv are equivalent 
 to cKaaros «aurc5 o^iotos Koi (Tiryyeprjs can, 
 
 6—2 
 
84 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 N 
 
 they all find pleasure in such things as are their own, 
 their own works, their own sayings and so on, This^ 
 is the reason why people are generally so fond of 
 flattery or love or honour or again of their children 
 as being their own works. Hence too the pleasure of 
 supplying the deficiencies of others ; for then the 
 work becomes what it was not before, our own. 
 
 Again, as it is an especial pleasure to be a ruler, 
 a reputation for wisdom is pleasant ; for practical 
 wisdom is a commanding faculty, and speculative 
 wisdom the knowledge of many marvels. Again, as 
 ambition is an almost universal quality, it follows 
 that there is a certain pleasure in censuring'* others, 
 as censure necessarily implies superiority, or^ in 
 dwelling upon the points in which one appears to the 
 best advantage, according to the lines* of Euripides 
 
 "To that he presses, 
 To that he gives tlie flower of every day, 
 Wherein himself doth show most excellent." 
 
 Similarly, as amusement and relaxation of every kind 
 
 * Although the four objects of natural affection or desire are 
 placed as parallels, there is really a difference between the first 
 three and the last. A man is fond of his children, because, as 
 Aristotle says, they are in a sense his productions, his works. But 
 he is fond of flattery or love or honour as being a recognition or 
 appreciation of himself and his works. 
 
 * The etymological play upon the words (/)tXoTi/xot and ttn- 
 Tifiap, which constitutes the point or argument of the sentence, can 
 hardly be preserved in English. 
 
 3 Changing the full stop after dvai to a comma. 
 
 '* The lines here quoted from the Antiopa of Euripides appear, 
 although not without some slight variation, in the Gorgias of 
 Plato, p. 484 E, where a full discussion of them will be found iu 
 Dr Thompson's note. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 85 
 
 and humour are pleasant, it is clear that what is 
 humorous, whether a person or tale or circumstance, 
 is also pleasant. But the subject of humour has been 
 sepamtely treated in my book^ on Poetry. 
 
 We may content ourselves then with this dis- 
 cussion of pleasures, and it is easy to discover pains 
 by a consideration of their opposites. 
 
 The objects of crime being such as I have de- char xil 
 scribed, it remains to consider the conditions under continued. 
 which crime is committed and its victims. 
 
 As to the agents, the conditions under which we '^^^^^^^ 
 commit crime are when we believe that the deed ^«der^;ij«^h 
 is possible and possible to us, whetlier it is our be- committed. 
 lief that we shall escape detection or that, if detected, 
 we shall not be punished or that we shall be punished, 
 but the penalty will not be equivalent to the ad- 
 vantage gained by ourselves or by our friends. 
 
 The character of such deeds as are apparently 
 possible or impossible in the abstract will be de- 
 scribed hereafter, ^as it is a subject equally appro- 
 priate to all the three kinds of Rhetoric. But taking 
 the personal view, we believe we are most likely to 
 succeed in committing crimes without incurring any 
 penalty, if we are able speakers and men of action 
 and large forensic experience and if we have a great 
 number of friends and large property. This belief 
 is strongest, if we are ourselves in possession of the 
 advantages I have described; but, failing this, it 
 
 1 Not in the Poetic, as it exists at present ; but perhaps in 
 a Second Book, which has been lost. 
 
 '■^ TO hwarov Ka\ a^vvarov is the first of the koivoX tottoi discussed 
 in Bk. ii. ch. 19. 
 
I* 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 86 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 eodsts also, if we have friends or subordinates or 
 associates who possess them, as we are thereby 
 enabled to commit crimes and to escape detection 
 and punishment. It is the same if we are the per- 
 sonal friends of our victims or of the judges ; for our 
 friends are not on their guard against criminal in- 
 jury at our hands and, when the crime has been 
 committed, are disposed to reconciliation without 
 prosecuting us on account of it, and tlie judges show 
 partiality to their friends and eitlier absolutely 
 acquit them or inflict a merely nominal penalty. 
 
 Persons are likely to escape detection, if their 
 character or condition is inconsistent with the crime 
 alleged, as e.g. an invalid in a case of assault and 
 battery, or an ugly pauper in a case of adultery. 
 Actions are likely to escape detection, if they are 
 excessively patent and public, as nobody would an- 
 ticipate them and consequently nobody is on his 
 guard against them ; or if they are of a magnitude 
 and character passing anybody's audacity, as in this 
 case too nobody is on his guard ; for everyone is 
 on his guard against ordinary crimes as against 
 ordinary illnesses, but nobody takes precautions 
 against extraordinary crimes any more than against 
 an illness which has never yet attacked any human 
 being. Again, peojyle think to commit crimes tcith 
 impnnity, if they have no enemies or a great number 
 of enemies ; for in the first case they hope to escape 
 detection, because nobody is on his guard against 
 them, and in the second they actually do escape it, 
 because nobody suspects them of being likely to 
 make an assault upon people who are already on 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 87 
 
 I.] 
 
 their guard and they are able to plead in their 
 defence the improbability of their having attempted 
 such a thing. The same is the case, if they have 
 any plan^ or place of concealment or any easy means 
 of disposing of their stolen goods. Or if in case of 
 detection they are able to evade or postpone the 
 trial or in some way or other to corrupt the judges. 
 Or if, when mulcted in a certain sum, they can evade 
 the payment or postpone it for a considerable time. 
 Or^ if they are so poor that they have nothing to 
 lose. Or if, while their gains are clear or consider- 
 able or immediate, their penalties are trifling or 
 uncertain or remote. Or if there is no penalty com- 
 mensurate with the prospective advantage, as e.g. 
 in the case of tyranny. Or if the result of the crime 
 is pecuniary gain, and the punishment nothing but 
 disgrace. Or, conversely, if the crime is such as is 
 calculated to win a certain measure of applause, as 
 e.g. if in committing it one liad the fortune, like Zeno", 
 to exact vengeance for one's father or mother, but 
 the punishment takes the form of a fine or exile 
 or something of the kind. Both these are objects 
 and conditions of criminal action ; only in persons 
 not of the same but of dift'erent characters. 
 
 Again, people are guilty of crimes, if they have 
 often escaped detection or punishment. Or if they 
 
 1 Reading ? rponon ? tottoij upon the best mss. authority. 
 
 2 The insertion of €t is unnecessary, if this sentence is gram- 
 matically connected with the last, as ft ri9 may well be supplied 
 as a subject of «|c4 from the preceding oly, which is equivalent to 
 
 <l Tiort. 
 
 3 Nothing is really known about the case of Zeno. 
 
( 
 
 (III) The 
 victims of 
 crime. 
 
 88 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 have often been unsuccessful ; for in crime as well 
 as in war there are some people who are ever 
 ready to renew the battle. Or if the pleasure is 
 immediate and the pain is subsequent, or the gain 
 immediate and the punishment subsequent ; for 
 such is the natural conduct of all incontinent 
 people, and there is incontinence about any object 
 of human ambition. Or on the other hand if the 
 pain or punishment is immediate and mmneiitary, 
 and the pleasure and profit subsequent and more 
 lasting ; for this is the aim of all such people as 
 are continent and comparatively sagacious in cha- 
 racter. Or if it is possible that their actions* will 
 appear to be the result of chance or necessity or 
 nature or habit and in general to be errors rather 
 than crimes. Or if tliere is a prospect of their re- 
 ceiving an equitable consideration from the judges. 
 Or if they feel a deficiency, whether it is a necessity 
 of life that they lack, like the poor, or a supei-fluity, 
 like the rich. Or if their reputation stands exceed- 
 ingly high or exceedingly low, as in the one case they 
 will not be suspected of the crime and in the other 
 will not be more strongly suspected than before. 
 
 Such then being the conditions under which 
 criminals attempt to commit crimes, I come now to 
 consider the victims and the crimes themselves. 
 
 The victims of crime are people who are in posses- 
 sion of the advantages which we ourselves require, 
 
 ^ It will be noticed that this passage differs from p. 35, 11. 14 
 sqq. in distinguishing compulsory actions {bC avayKtiv) from natural 
 {bia (t)v<Tiv) and in apparently classing habitual actions {8l €6os) 
 among those which are there regarded as involuntary. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 89 
 
 I.] 
 
 whether in the way of the necessaries of life or of 
 excess or luxury. Nor does it matter whether they 
 are near to us or far removed ; for in the one case 
 the acquisition is speedy and in the other the ven- 
 geance is slow, as e.g. if we plunder the Carthaginians. 
 Or people who are trustful rather than cautious or 
 suspicious, as it is always easy to escape their notice. 
 Or indolent people, as a person must be ready to 
 take trouble, if he wishes to prosecute a criminal. Or 
 sensitive people, as they are not disposed to fight for 
 gain. Or people who have been the victims of many 
 crimes without revenging themselves, such people 
 being in the proverbial phi^ase "Mysians' prey'." Or 
 people whom we have never injured before or have 
 often injured ; for both will be off their guard, the 
 former from an idea that they will never be injured, 
 and the latter from an idea that they could not be 
 injured any more. Or people who have become un- 
 popular or who are liable to unpopularity, as such 
 people have neither the will to prosecute for fear of 
 the judges nor, tf they do prosecute, the power of 
 convincing them ; and among such people are those 
 who are the objects of hatred or envy. Or again 
 people whom we have an excuse for injuring, because 
 they or their ancestors or friends either inflicted or 
 
 1 It is clear that the contempt felt for the Mysians, as for the 
 Cariai.8, shows itself in this proverb. Yet the origin of it is 
 involved in obscurity. M. St Hilaire understands it as meaning 
 literally " people so feeble that even the Mysians could prey 
 upon them." The usual explanation, which has the authority of 
 Suidas and Harpocration, is that the Mysians, owing to their 
 feebleness or defencelessness, were themselves the prey of their 
 enemies. 
 
I I 
 
 i 
 
 90 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 
 Mi 
 
 intended to inflict injury either upon ourselves or 
 our ancestors or those who are dear to us ; for villainy, 
 according to the proverb, only waits for an excuse. Or 
 our enemies, because it is so pleasant, or our friends, 
 because it is so easy, to injure them. Or ])eople who 
 have no friends. Or people who are not great as 
 oratoi-s or as men of action ; for such people either 
 make no attempt to prosecute or soon come to terms 
 or, if they do proseciitey achieve no success. Or people 
 whom it does not pay to waste their time in waiting 
 either for trial or for payment, such as foreigners and 
 peasant proprietors ; for they are ready to patch up 
 a quarrel on easy terms and make no difficulty about 
 abandoning the j^rosecution. Or people who have 
 committed many crimes or crimes akin to those of 
 which they are the victims ; for it is hardly regarded 
 as a case of criminal action, if a person is the victim 
 of a crime such as that of which he was himself 
 habitually the author, as e.g. if an assault^ is com- 
 mitted upon a man who has been habitually guilty of 
 outrageous insolence. Or people who have either 
 done or intended or intend to do or will in the future 
 do us injury; for then the criminal action has an 
 element not only of pleasure but of morality and 
 looks almost as if it were not a crime at all. Or 
 people whose^ injury will be a gratification either to 
 
 ^ aUia and v^pis are l)oth offences recognized by Attic law, 
 the former, which was the less serious, being the subject of a 
 dUrj or civil action, the latter of a ypa(f)ij or public prosecution. 
 
 2 The construction is harsh; for oU must be taken as an 
 instrumental dative. It is, as Speugel says 'Mdem ac si dixisset 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 91 
 
 I.] 
 
 our friends or to the objects of our respect or affection 
 or to our masters or to any one upon whom our own 
 life depends. Or people in relation to whom we may 
 hope for an equitable consideration from the judges. 
 Or people against whom we have a cause of com- 
 plaint and with whom we have had a difference be- 
 fore, as in the example of Callippus^ in the case of 
 Dion ; for a crime so committed seems to approxi- 
 mate to not being a crime at all. Or if people 
 would soon be the victims of the crimes of others, 
 unless they were the victims of ours, ive commit the 
 crimes on the plea that no time is left for deliberation, 
 in the spirit of iEnesidemus who, as the story' goes, 
 sent the cottabus-prize to Gelo after his success in 
 reducing Gela to slavery, implying that Gelo had only 
 forestalled him, as it had been his own intention to 
 do the same. Or again if after injuring people crimi- 
 nally we shall have many opportunities of treating 
 them justly, we commit the crim£ in the belief that 
 we shall soon 'make amends, according to the saying 
 of the Thessalian' Jason that it is a duty to do 
 some acts of injustice in order to have the power of 
 doing many acts of justice. 
 
 A ci'ime is natural, if it is universal or at least crrcum- 
 usual ; for then we may expect to be pardoned for wMch faen 
 
 1 The story is told in Mr Cope's note ; but if it is the story 
 which Aristotle had in mind, it would hardly seem that Callippus 
 had any good reason for regarding himself as " having a cause of 
 complaint" against Dion. 
 
 2 See Mr Cope's note. This passage would naturally suggest 
 that speed as weU as skill was an element of the popular game 
 known as Korra^as. 
 
 3 Jason of Pheree. 
 
 iiXtU 
 
 
92 THE KHETORIC [l. 
 
 committing it. Or if the articles stolen admit of easy 
 concealment, e.g. if tliey are such as are rapidly con- 
 sumed, like eatables. Or if they can be easily dis- 
 guised by new shapes or colours or mixtures, or 
 easily put out of sight in many different places, e.g. if 
 they are portable and can be hidden away in holes 
 and corners. Or if the criminal has already many 
 things indistinguishable from them or closely re- 
 sembling them in his possession. Or if the deed is 
 one which the victims are ashamed to publish, sucli 
 as an outrage committed upon the women of one's 
 family or oneself or one's sons. Or if it is a case in 
 which a prosecutor would be looked upon as litigious,, 
 e.g. if the act in question is unimportant or pardon- 
 able. 
 CHAP.xiii. Such then being the usual conditions of crime, the 
 nature of criminal actions and the victims and mo- 
 tives, let us now proceed to the classification of all 
 actions whether just or unjust. 
 
 Our first consideration is the following. Just and 
 unjust actions admit of a twofold division, according 
 as they are considered relatively to the laws^ or to 
 the persons aflected by them. 
 
 ^I regard law as either particular or universal. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 93 
 
 Classiflca 
 tion of 
 actions. 
 
 Particular 
 and univer- 
 sal law. 
 
 ^ Omitting hvo, 
 
 2 There is a discrepancy of language, which deserves to be 
 cleared up, between this passage and the beginning of ch. 10. 
 Aristotle there describes law as either (a) particular (idtor) or O) 
 universal {koivos), defining "particular" law as the statutes of any 
 given state, and "universal" law as the unwritten but universally 
 recognised principles of morality {oaa aypa(t>a irapa naa-iv ofioXo- 
 yfladat So/cel. Cp. Sophocles, ^w^/^on^, 450 sqq.). The "universal" 
 or "unwritten" law of ch. 10 is the "universal" law or "law of 
 
 '•1 
 
 meaning by 'particular' the law ordained by a par- 
 ticular i>eople for their own purposes, and capable of 
 subdivision into written and unwritten law, and by 
 ' universal ' the law of Nature. For there exists, as 
 all men divine more or less, a natural and iniiversal 
 principle of right and wrong, independent of any 
 mutual intercourse or compact; the principle to 
 which Antigone in Sophocles is made to appeal, when 
 she avows that it is right to bury Polynices in de- 
 fiance of Creon's edict, because this is right ac- 
 cording to the law of Nature 
 
 " Not of to-day nor yesterday 
 Is this a law, but ever hath it life, 
 And no man knoweth whence it came or how." 
 
 It is in the same sense that Empedocles' lays down his 
 prohibition of putting any living thing to death ; this 
 (he says) is not right in one land and wrong in another 
 
 "But the law universal evermore 
 Pervades the omnipotent heaven and boundless earth." 
 
 So too Alcidamas' in his Messenian oration. 
 
 Nature" here* but "particular" law is here subdivided into (a) 
 "written" law, which is, as before, the statutes of a particular 
 State, and {b) "unwritten" which is such equitable considerations, 
 derived from custom, social relations, &c., as are recognized for 
 the time being in a community and serve as corrections or adjust- 
 ments of the written law. (Sec infra, p. 47, 1. 12, and cp. Plato, 
 Laws, vii. p. 793, c and d.) For the "laws of custom" (o^ Kara ra 
 (drj v6fioi) are tn »cvpiwr*poi Ka\ Trepi KvpicoTcpcov t^v Kara ypapixara 
 vofiav (Politics, iii. ch. 16, p. 1287 B5). 
 
 1 In his didactic poem Ilepi ^vo-fo)?. 
 
 2 The sentence is apparently incomplete ; but if the words 
 quoted by the Scholiast are the true ones, eXfv^f'povs a<^^<€ 
 navras 6 Gfoff, ovBiva fioGXoj/ ij <l>v(ris newoirjKtv, they form an ex- 
 
 I 
 
p. 70. 
 
 I 
 
 p. 71. 
 
 94 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 Again, there is a twofold division of actions rela- 
 tively to the persons affected by them. Actions proper 
 to be done or left nndone may have reference either 
 to the community or to some individual member of 
 it And accordingly just and unjust actions may be 
 also of two kinds, referring either to a particular in- 
 dividual or to the community ; for adultery and assault 
 are crimes against particular persons, but the refusal 
 of military service is a crime against the State. 
 
 All unjust or criminal actions then may be classi- 
 fied and distinguished as relative either to the com- 
 munity or to some individual or individuals. But, 
 before we proceed, let us define once again what it is 
 to be the victim of a crime. It is to suficr criminal 
 injury at the hands of a voluntary agent ; for the 
 voluntary character of crime has been already de- 
 termined. We have seen too that the victim of crime 
 must suffer injury and must suffbr it involuntarily. 
 The various kinds of injury are evident from the 
 remarks we have made ; for we have already analysed 
 things good or bad in themselves and have shown 
 that knowledge is a necessaiy condition of voluntary 
 action. It follows that every crime alleged against 
 a person is relative either to public or to individual 
 interests and is committed either ignorantly and in- 
 voluntarily or voluntarily and knowingly and, if the 
 latter, either of deliberate purpose or under the in- 
 
 cellent instance of a general principle, especially in comparison 
 with Politics, i. ch. 3 ad Jin. 
 
 The "Messenian oration" of Alcidamas was according to the 
 Scholiast an exhortation to the Lacedaeniouiaus not to reduce the 
 Messenians to slavery. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 95 
 
 fluence of emotion. Passion is a subject which will 
 be discussed in the general treatment of the emotions, pp- "^ '''^'^^ 
 and the object and conditions of deliberate purpose 
 have been already described. But it often happens pp- '^ sqq. 
 that people, while admitting a particular fact, re- 
 fuse to admit either the description of it or the appli- 
 cation of the description ; a person will admit e.g. 
 that he took an article, but not that he stole it, 
 or that he struck the first blow, but not that he 
 committed an outrage, or that there was inter- 
 course, but not that there was adultery, or that 
 there was theft, but not that there was sacrilege, 
 as the article stolen was not consecrated property, 
 or that there was trespass but not that there was 
 trespass on the State lands, or that there was com- 
 munication, but not that it was communication of 
 a treasonable nature, with the enemy. From this 
 we see the necessity of definitions of theft or out- 
 rage or adultery, if we are to succeed in putting our 
 case in the strongest light, whether we are anxious 
 to prove or disprove a certain allegation. In all such 
 cases the point at issue is the criminality and Avicked- 
 ness or the reverse of the person accused, as it is 
 the purpose which constitutes vice or crime, and all 
 such terms as "outrage" or "theft" have a certain 
 connotation of the purpose. For if it is admitted 
 that a person dealt a blow, it does not necessarily 
 follow that he committed an outrage, unless he had 
 a particular object in dealing the blow, i.e. to insult 
 the person struck or to gratify himself ; nor again, if 
 it is admitted that a person took an article by stealth, 
 does it necessarily follow that he was guilty of theft. 
 
96 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 unless the plumose of his taking it was the injury 
 of somebody else and the appropriation of it to 
 himself. The same is the case Avith every other 
 crime that may be alleged. 
 
 p.j)3. ' We have seen then that cases of justice and in- 
 
 justice may be divided into two classes, viz. unwritten 
 and unwritten. So far as the law expressly declares 
 
 Two kinds them,they have been already discussed. The unwritten 
 
 «f unwritten ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ j^.^^^^ comprisCS (1) SUCh poiutS aS 
 
 are indications of a high degree of virtue or vice 
 and are the subjects of reproaches, compliments, 
 degradations, honours and presents, e.g. gratitude 
 to benefactors, the repayment of kindnesses received, 
 a disposition to serve one's friends and the like, 
 (2) such points as supply the deficiencies of the 
 Equity. special or written law. For equitable conduct is ad- 
 mitted to be just ; and the justice which supplements 
 the written law is equity. But this fimctloti of equity 
 may be either contrary to or consistent with the Icgu- 
 lator's intention— the former, if the point is one which 
 has escaped his notice, the latter, if it is impossible 
 to specify all the possible cases tvhieh may arise, 
 and it is necessary therefore to lay down a rule as 
 universal, although it is properly not universal but 
 only general, or'^ again if it is difficult to specify 
 1 The present passage, althougli it seems only to recapitulate 
 the result arrived at in an earher part of the chapter, yet so far 
 departs from it as (1) to show that the "universal" law is itself 
 unwritten, (2) to explain the characteristics of this universal 
 unwritten law, (3) to define the nature of that other unwritten 
 law which is a part of the " particular ^ law of States. 
 
 « It is better to connect this sentence closely with the pre- 
 ceding one. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 97 
 
 all possible varieties of a case, as they are infinite 
 in number, e.g. all the various sizes and kinds of 
 iron instruments with which a wound may be inflicted, 
 as human life is too short for a complete enume- 
 ration of them. Hence if an exact specification is 
 impossible, and yet it is indispensable to legislate, 
 it is necessary to employ general language, the result 
 being that if e.g. you are only wearing an iron ring 
 when you lift your hand against a person or deal him 
 a blow, according to the letter of the law you are 
 guilty of a crime, yet in reality you do not commit a 
 crime, and it is in this merciful interpretation of your 
 action that equity consists. And from this definition itsprovino©. 
 of equity we see at once the kind of actions which 
 do or do not deserve equitable consideration and 
 the kind of persons who are not equitable. For all 
 such cases as deserve indulgence are proper subjects 
 of equity. Again, it is equitable not to treat errors 
 and crimes or errors and accidents alike. I mean 
 by an " accident " anything which cannot be foreseen 
 and does not proceed from vice, by an "error" 
 anything which might have been foreseen and yet 
 does not proceed from wickedness, and by a " crime " 
 anything which might have been foreseen and is 
 itself a result of wickedness ; for all such actions 
 as are due to desire proceed from wickedness. Equity its nature, 
 consists too in making allowance for human infir- 
 mities, in regarding the legislator rather than the 
 law, the intention of the legislator rather than his 
 language, the purpose of an act mther than the act 
 itself and the whole rather than the part, in con- 
 sidering not so much what is a person's character 
 
 w. R. 7 
 
 u 
 
98 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [}- 
 
 crimes. 
 
 at a particular moment as what it has invariably or 
 usually been, in remembering benefits more than 
 injuries and benefits received more than benefits 
 conferred, in suffering injustice patiently, in con- 
 senting to settle disputes by agreement rather than 
 by a trial of strength, in wishing to resort to arbi- 
 tration rather than to law ; for an arbitrator always 
 takes the equitable, whereas a juror takes the legal 
 view, of a case, and indeed the object with which 
 arbitration was devised was to ensure the triumph 
 
 of equity. 
 
 Such then may be regarded as a sufficient de- 
 scription of the nature and province of equity. 
 CHAP. XIV. The magnitude of a crime is proportionate to the 
 ^de rf*^'' magnitude of the injustice which prompts it Hence 
 the smallest crimes may be actually the greatest, as 
 e.g. the crime alleged by Callistratus against Me- 
 lanopus, viz. that he had defrauded the temple- 
 builders of an obol and a half of consecrated money. 
 'But in regard to justice the contrary of this is true ; 
 for the greater the temptation to commit a crime, the 
 greater is the justice shevm in remstiruji it. The reason 
 of the extreme criminalUy of petty crimes is that the 
 greater crime is potentially included in the less; for he 
 who stole an obol and a half of consecrated money 
 would be ready to commit any crime. The degree of 
 criminality is determined sometimes in this way and at 
 
 1 If it may be permitted to put Aristotle's meaning into other 
 words, it is that t!ie magnitude of criminality is determined by 
 the smallness of the temptation which was not resisted, the 
 magnitude of the justice by the greatness of the temptation 
 resisted. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 99 
 
 other times by consideration of the actual injury. A 
 crirm is the greater, if there is no possible punishment 
 adequate to it ; or if there is no remedy for it, ^as in 
 such a case it is grievous and even incurable ; or if the 
 victim has no hope of redress, as it is then irremediable ; 
 for legal justice and punishment are remedial processes. 
 It is the greater again, if the victim in consequence of 
 it inflicted a heavy punishment upon himself; for 
 then the perpetrator seems to deserve still heavier 
 pmiishment, as Sophocles argued in pleading the 
 cause of Euctemon after his committing suicide in 
 consequence of the outrage inflicted upon him, when 
 he said he would not estimate the proper penalty less 
 highly than the victim had estimated it for himself. 
 Or if the perpetrator of the crime is the only person 
 or the first who has so acted or has had but few 
 associates in his action. Again, an offence is magni- 
 fied, if it is constantly repeated ; or if it is one which 
 has led to the desire and discovery of particular de- 
 terrents and penalties, as when at Argos a penalty is 
 inflicted upon any individual on whose account a law 
 has been passed or upon the * persons on whose account 
 the prison was built. Again, a crime is the greater in 
 proportion as it is more brutal or more deliberate or 
 as it inspires the audience with sentiments of terror 
 rather than of pity. There are other rhetorical means 
 of exaggemtion, as e.g. the assertion that the accused 
 has subverted or transgressed many obligations at 
 
 ^ Perhaps the mss reading ^aXf ttoi/ yap koL ahivarov may stand, 
 the infinitive l^aQai, being suppUed with abvvarov. 
 
 ^ The indicative mood implies that some definite persons are 
 meant ; but the circumstances are not kno>vn. 
 
 7-2 
 
 i' 
 
 \\\ 
 
 n 
 
100 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 ['■ 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 once, such as oaths, pledges, securities and covenants 
 of intermarriage ; for so a crime is intensified by 
 multiplication. Again, it is an aggravation of a 
 crime that the scene of it should be the spot where 
 criminals are brought to justice, as in the case of 
 perjured witnesses ; for where {it may be argued) 
 would they be likely to refrain from crime, if they 
 commit it actually in a Court of Law ? A crime is 
 magnified too, if it is one of a particularly shameful 
 character ; or if the victim of it has been a benefactor 
 of the criminal, as there is then a multipUcation of 
 the crime in that not only the injury is done, but the 
 service which might have been eocpected is not done ; 
 or if it is an offence against the unwritten principles of 
 justice, as it is an indication of superior virtue to be 
 just without the need of external compulsion. Now 
 while written laws have a character of compulsion, 
 the laws which are unwritten are not compulsory. 
 Yet in another sense a crime is the greater, if it is a 
 violation of the written law, as it may be contended 
 that one who is guilty of such crimes as are dangerous 
 to him and render him liable to punishment will not 
 hesitate to commit those crimes to which no punish- 
 ment is attached. 
 CHAP. XV. Having now determined the comparative magni- 
 Sc^fs tude of crimes, we have next to take a rapid survey 
 p.\o. of the inartistic proofs as they are called. We con- 
 mler them last, as Hhey belong exclusively to forensic 
 
 1 Thi8 is generally, but not quite strictly, true, as appears 
 from the words koI irporpi'irovra Ka\ anorpiTtovra, I. 17, and again 
 
 ,1 avtx<j>4pov tj acnJ/i^opov, p. 51, 1. 12, which are appropriate to 
 deliberative oratory. 
 
 I.] OF ARISTOTLE. 101 
 
 Rhetoric. They are five in number, viz. laws, wit- 
 nesses, contracts, tortures and the oath. 
 
 We will begin by discussing the proper means of (D laws. 
 employing laws whether in exhortation and dis- 
 suasion or in accusation and defence. It is clear that, 
 if the written law is unfavourable to our case, we 
 must appeal to the universal law and to the principles 
 of equity as expressing justice of a higher order. 
 ^We must contend that the formula " ^according to 
 the best of my judgment " implies that the juror is 
 not to be absolutely bound by the letter of the law. 
 We must urge that, while equity and universal law, 
 as being conformable to Nature, are perpetual and 
 invariable, written laws are liable to frequent change. 
 Hence the lines in the Antigone of Sophocles, where 
 she pleads that in burying her brother she had violated 
 Creon's law but not the unwritten law of Nature. 
 
 "3 Not of to-day nor yesterday 
 Is this a law but ever hath it life; 
 This should not I for fear of mortal man 
 Dare violate.^* 
 
 * It is necessary to supply \€kt(ov or some such word before otu 
 
 2 The Athenian hiKaaral promised on oath to judge yva>p.ri rfj 
 dpi(rnj or, more correctly, yvafirj r^ ^iKaiorarrj. But the promise 
 80 made, as is clear from many passages, was applicable only 
 where there was no law or where it was obscure. 
 
 3 This quotation is made somewhat loosely, as though the 
 passage of the Antigone would be familiar to everyone. Cp. p. 45 
 L 28. The lines are 
 
 ov yap rt vvv ye KUxBis, aX\ a€i Trore 
 ^fj TavTOy Kov8f\s oiSei/ t^ otov <f)ainj. 
 TovT(ov cyco ovK €/ifXXoi', dvdpos ovdevos 
 <l)p6vrjfjLa deia-aSy iv deoia-i rrfv diKrjv 
 daativ. 
 
 1 1 
 
102 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 I 
 
 [I- 
 
 Again, we must argue that justice is something 
 which is genuine and beneficent, but that the sham 
 justice which consists in a rigorous interpretatimi of 
 the law is quite the contrary ; hence the written law 
 is neither genuine nor beneficent, as it does not dis- 
 charge the proper function of law. Or that a judge 
 is like an assayer of coin, whose business it is to 
 distinguish base justice from genuine. Or that a 
 higher virtue is displayed in loyalty and obedience 
 to unwritten than to written laws. Again, 4t may 
 happen that the law against which we are contending 
 is inconsistent with some other law of high repute or 
 with itself; it is sometimes the case, e.g. that, while 
 there is one law which enacts the validity of all con- 
 tracts, there is another which prohibits the forming 
 of any such contract as is illegal. Or it may happen 
 that the law is ambiguous ; then it will be proper to 
 turn it about, and to consider to which of the two pos- 
 sible constructions either the justice or the ex- 
 pediency, as it may be, of our case will adapt itself 
 and, after so considering it, to adopt that construc- 
 tion. Again, if the circumstances which the law was 
 intended to meet have altered but the law remains 
 in force, we must do our best to prove this to be the 
 case and so to contend against the law. But if the 
 letter of the law is on our side, it must be urged that 
 the words "according to the best of my judgment" 
 were never meant to justify illegal procedure on the 
 
 1 The construction is again irregular or elliptical ; the true 
 apodosis would be found in some such words as xp';crTfoi/ avr^ rij 
 (vavTiarrjTi. Similarly in the next sentence there is some such 
 suppressed apodosis as xprjcrriov avrfj r^ a/x<^ti3oXta. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 103 
 
 part of a juror but only to exonerate him from a 
 charge of perjury, if he should fail to perceive the 
 meaning of the law. 'Or that nobody desires that 
 which is absolutely good, but everybody that which 
 is good relatively to himself. Or that the law might 
 as well not have been enacted, if it is not to be 
 obeyed. Again, we may appeal to the other arts 
 arguing that in Medicim e,g. it does not pay to be 
 cleverer than the doctor, as there is less danger in 
 the mistakes of the doctor than in the gradually ac- 
 quired habit of disobeying authority. AnA finally we 
 may urge that it is this eflfort to be wiser than the 
 laws which is prohibited in all admirable codes. 
 
 The foregoing discussion of the mode ofapjyealing 
 to the laws must be regarded as sufficient for our 
 purpose. Coming now to witnesses, we say that (2) wit. 
 thev are of two kinds, viz. ancient and contem- 
 porary, and that the latter may be either involved 
 in the risk of the action at law or independent 
 of it I mean by ancient witnesses the poets and (a) ancient 
 any other authorities who have pronounced notorious 
 judgments. Thus the Athenians appealed to the 
 testimony of Homer in the matter of 'Salamis, 
 and the inhabitants of Tenedos not long ago to that 
 
 iJ 
 
 * The point of this argument for abiding by the letter of the 
 law seems to be that the law is in its nature rigidly impartial, but 
 the judgment of individuals is warped by personal considerations. 
 Schrader however gives a different explanation, viz. that the laws 
 of a particular state, as being adapted to its necessities, are 
 better and therefore to be more resolutely guarded than laws of 
 a kind abstractedly higher and more ideal 
 
 2 It was commonly alleged that the famous lines {Iliad il 
 
104 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 of Periander of Corinth in their controversy with 
 the 'Sigeans. Thus too Cleophon quoted against 
 Critias the elegiac verses of Solon in evidence of the 
 inveterate licentiousness of his family, as Solon — so 
 he argmd — could have had no other reason for 
 writing 
 
 "Bid Critias the ruddy-haired go listen to his sire," 
 
 While then it is the poets and others who are witnesses 
 to facts of the past, as to the future the interpreters 
 of oracles are also witnesses. It was thus that 
 Themistocles insisted upon the wisdom of naval war- 
 fare, quoting the expression of the oracle "*the wooden 
 wall." Proverbs too, as has been said', are forms of 
 testimony. If one is giving evidence e.g. against 
 courting the friendship of an old man, one can appeal 
 to the testimony of the proverb "Never befriend a 
 dotard" ; or if one is advocating the slaughter of 
 
 557_8) in which the ships of Ajax are represented as stationed 
 beside the Athenian forces in the war of Troy, had been inter- 
 polated in the text by Solon, to serve as arguments for the claim 
 of Athens to the possession of Salamis. 
 
 1 The allusion is really uncertain although Mr Grote (History 
 of Greece, Part ii. ch. 14) thinks the "testimony of Periander" 
 was his decision on the controversy between the Athenians and 
 the Mitylenaeans regarding Sigeum. 
 
 * See Herod, vii. ch. 141. 
 
 3 Not by Aristotle himself; hence Spengel proposes to omit 
 ftprirai. Perhaps there is a reference to other writers upon 
 Rhetoric ; perhaps, as is likely enough, the words are due to a 
 slip of memory. Mr Cope's explanation of them is possible, but 
 less natural; "proverbs are evidence in the way that has been 
 stated," i.e. evidence of the future. 
 
 I. J OF ARISTOTLE. 105 
 
 the children whose parents have been already slain, 
 one can appeal to that of aiiother proverb 
 
 "^Fool he who slays the sire and spares the son." 
 
 Contemporary witnesses on the other hand are all (b) contem- 
 such authorities as have pronounced judgment on a 
 particular point ; for the judgments of such authorities 
 are serviceable, whenever the same questions are at 
 issue. Thus Eubulus quoted in court against Chares 
 the remark of Plato in reference to Archibius, that 
 the avowal of rascality had made great strides in the 
 state. Another class of contemporary witnesses con- 
 sists of people who, if suspected of perjury, are in- 
 volved in the peril of the person whom tliey support 
 by their testimony. All such witnesses testify simply 
 to the fact that a thing has or has not occurred or 
 does or does not exist, not to its character i.e. to its 
 justice or injustice, expediency or inexpediency ; but 
 the credibility of witnesses at a distance extends to 
 character. None however are such credible witnesses 
 as the ancients ; for these it is impossible to corrupt 
 If we have no witnesses to call, we may employ 
 confirmations of our testimony by arguing that 
 judgment should be based upon the probabilities of 
 the case, that this is the meaning of the words " ac- 
 cording to the best of my judgment," that pro- 
 babilities cannot be bribed to deceive and are never 
 convicted of perjury. If on the other hand we have 
 witnesses to call, and our adversary has not, we may 
 urge that probabilities are not responsible agents like 
 witnesses, and that testimony would be superfluous, 
 
 * A line of the KvTrpia of the cyclic poet Stasinus. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^f 
 
 
 m 
 
(3) con- 
 tracts. 
 
 106 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [I- 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 107 
 
 if it were enough to review the case by the light of 
 arguments. Also as testimony may relate either to 
 ourselves or to our adversary and either to facts or 
 to character, it is clear that we can never be at a loss 
 for useful testimony ; for if we cannot adduce any 
 testimony in support of our own case or against our 
 adversary's, yet it may still he possible to produce 
 testimony to character such as tends to establish 
 either our own respectability or the low morality of 
 our adversary. All such other arguments as tend 
 to prove a witness friendly, hostile or indifferent, 
 estimable, disreputable or neither absolutely the one 
 nor the other or to establish any other similar charac- 
 teristic must be derived from the same topics as form 
 the materials of our enthymemes. 
 
 As to contracts ; the value of Rhetoric amounts to 
 this, that it is competent to magnify or disparage 
 their importance, to establish their credibility and 
 authority, if they are on our own side, and to invalidate 
 it, if they tell in favour of our adversary. The means 
 of confirming or overthrowing their credibility are 
 precisely the same as in the procedure in the case 
 of witnesses ; for their credit is entirely dependent 
 upon the character of the persons who have endorsed 
 them or who have them in their keeping. The exist- 
 ence of a contract being granted, it is necessary to 
 magnify its importance, if it is on our own side. It 
 may be urged that a contract is a law of a special 
 and partial kind, that it is not contracts which impart 
 validity to the law but the laws which impart validity 
 to legal contracts *and in general that, as the law 
 
 ^ Placing only a comma after (rvvBriKai. 
 
 itself is a species of contract, to violate or annul a 
 contract is virtually to annul the laws. It may be 
 further urged that, as the ordinary dealings of one 
 man with another and all voluntary transactions are 
 regulated by contracts, to invalidate contmcts is to 
 destroy the ordinary intercourse of social life. These 
 are some of the arguments appropriate to the point, 
 and there are others which are ready to hand and 
 easily found. If however the contract is one which is 
 adverse to ourselves and favourable to our opponents, 
 it is to he remembered in the first place that all such 
 arguments as might be used in opposition to an 
 adverse law are appropriate here. It is a strange 
 thing, toe may urge, that, while we refuse to acknow- 
 ledge the duty of obedience to the laws, if they have 
 been enacted wrongly and under a mistake on the 
 part of their autliors, we still acknowledge the ne- 
 cessity of obedience to contracts. We may urge too 
 that the juror is an umpire of justice and that there- 
 fore the point to be considered is not the particular 
 document hefore vs but the principle of higher justice. 
 Justice again, being an ordinance of Nature, cannot 
 be perverted either by fraud or by force ; contracts on 
 the other hand may be made under the influence 
 of cajolery or constraint Yet again, it is proper 
 to consider whether the particular contract is incon- 
 sistent Jirst with any law either written or universal 
 and, if written, either domestic or extraneous, and 
 secondly with other contracts subsequent or ante- 
 cedent; for it may he pleaded either that, if the later 
 contracts are valid, then the earlier are invalidated, or 
 that, if the earlier are right, the later are fraudulent, 
 
 
 h 
 

 108 THE RHETORIC [l. 
 
 according as it may serve our purpose at the time. 
 Finally, it is proper to have an eye to the personal 
 interests of the judges, with which the contract may 
 perhaps be inconsistent, and to various other similar 
 points, which rieed not he stated, as they are equally 
 easy to perceive. 
 <4) tortures. Torturcs coustitutc a species of testimony and are 
 regarded as possessing credibility, inasmuch as a 
 certain form of compulsion is implied in them. This 
 again is a case in which it is not difficult to define 
 the possible means of exaggeration, shovdng, if the 
 tortures are favourable to ourselves, that this is the 
 only genuine sort of testimony. If on the other hand 
 they are unfavourable to ourselves and favourable 
 to our adversary, it is possible to dissipate their force 
 by using arguments, which are perfectly true, against 
 tortures generally ; for witnesses are fully as likely to 
 give false testimony as true under the compulsion of 
 torture, whether by resolutely persisting in their con- 
 cealment of the truth or by readily making false accu- 
 sations in the hope of getting off the rack the sooner. 
 Lastly, one should be in a position to refer to parallel 
 instances which have come within the cognizance of 
 
 the judges. 
 (6) oaths. Oaths admit of a fourfold division. A person may 
 
 either tender and accept the oath, or may do neither, 
 or may do one and not the other, i.e. may either 
 tender the oath without accepting it or accept the 
 oath without tendering it And the case may be still 
 further complicated, if the oath has been already 
 taken by one of the parties. 
 
 If you refuse to tender the oath, you may plead 
 
 I.J OF ARISTOTLE. 109 
 
 that perjury is easy and that, while *your adversary, 
 if he takes the oath, will not be compelled to restore 
 the stolen property, if he has no opportunity of taking 
 it, you believe the court will pronounce sentence of 
 condemnation against him; or that you prefer the 
 risk of leaving the matter to the jury, as you have 
 confidence in them but not in your adversary. 
 
 If you refuse to take the oath when tendered to 
 you, you mxiy plead that to take it is to *set a 
 pecuniary value upon it ; or that, if you had no con- 
 science, you would have bound yourself by the oath, 
 as, if one has not a conscience, one may as well gain 
 something by having none, and that thus, while you 
 would have recovered the property, if you had sworn, 
 by not swearing you are likely to lose it. The con- 
 sequence will be that your refusal of the oath wiU 
 appear to spring not from the dread of perjury but 
 from a virtuous motive ^ It will be appropriate too 
 to quote the saying of Xenophanes, that the offer of 
 the oath is not a fair challenge, if the parties are 
 a conscientious and an unconscientious person but is 
 the same as if a strong man were to challenge a weak 
 one to give or take a blow. 
 
 If you accept the oath, you may say that you have 
 confidence in yourself but not in your adversary, or 
 you may reverse the saying of Xenophanes and urge 
 
 ^ i.e. if he is not allowed to take the oath, the case will be 
 tried on its merits, and he will be condemned; but if he takes it, 
 the jury are more likely to pronounce a verdict in his favour. 
 
 2 Or in other words, to take it in order to gain a certain 
 pecuniary advantage. 
 
 3 Putting a full stop, as Mr Cope suggests, after to iirf. 
 
 f: 
 
 I 
 
 In 
 
no 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 H 
 
 1 
 
 [I- 
 
 that the conditions will not be equal, unless it is the 
 unconscientious person who tenders the oath and the 
 conscientious person who accepts it, and that it is 
 monstrous to refuse to take the oath oneself in a case 
 where one expects the jurors to do so before they 
 
 hear it. 
 
 If you tender the oath to your adversary, you may 
 
 say that it is a pious act to commit the issue to 
 
 Heaven, and that it is not for your adversary to 
 
 require any judge but himself, as you are willing 
 
 to leave the judgment in his hands. Or you may say 
 
 that it is monstrous to refuse to swear in a case 
 
 where one expects others to do so. 
 
 Having seen then the proper way of dealing with 
 each case separately, we see at once how to deal with 
 them in combination, as e.g. if you are willing to 
 accept the oath yourself but not to tender it, or if 
 you tender it but are not willing to accept it, or if 
 you are willing both to accept and to tender it or 
 to do neither; for as these are necessarily combi- 
 nations of the cases which have been already de- 
 scribed, it follows that the arguments used must 
 be similarly combined. 
 
 If you have already taken an oath and it is pre- 
 judicial to yon, ymi, may urge that yours is not a case 
 of perjury; for criminal action is always voluntary, 
 and perjury is a crime, but sucli actions as are due to 
 force or fraud are involuntary. In this instance then 
 it is right to draw the conclusion that it is not 
 the language but the intention which constitutes 
 
 perjury. 
 
 If on the other hand it is your adversary who has 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 I.] 
 
 taken the oath, you may urge that not to abide by an 
 oath once taken is to upset everything. It is because 
 of the sanctity of the oath, you may a^ssert, that jurors 
 are sworn before they administer the laws ; and, ad- 
 dresslug the jury , you may exclaim "You we expect to 
 abide by the oaths, which you took before hearing 
 the case, and are we ourselves not to abide by our 
 oaths ? " And so through all the possible means of 
 exaggeration. 
 
 This then may be regarded as a sufficient dis- 
 cussion of the inartistic proofs. 
 
 ' \\ 
 
 I I 
 
 Id 
 
 I) 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
HI: 
 
 Chap. I. 
 
 The 
 
 audiences 
 of oratory 
 judicial. 
 
 Indirect 
 means of 
 proof. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 ^ESE then are the proper materials of exhortation, 
 dissuasion, eulogy, censure, accusation and defence, 
 and the popular opinions and rhetorical premisses 
 which are serviceable as supplying proofs in each ; 
 for it is these which are in a special sense, as we may 
 say, the subjects and materials of enthymemes, in 
 each of the three kinds of speeches. 
 
 As Rhetoric is intended to be judged— for in de- 
 liberative oratory^ we pass judgment on the counsel 
 given, and every legal decision is a judgmentf-it must 
 necessarily be our object not only to render our 
 speech demonstrative and credible, but also to pro- 
 duce a particular impression of ourselves and a 
 Iparticular disposition in our judges*. For in de- 
 
 1 1 Epideictic oratory is for the moment left out of sight, 
 whether as being less impoi-tant than the other kinds or because 
 the audience of epideictic speeches would not in Aristotle's 
 view be strictly described as "judges" (<pirat). See ch. 18 
 
 in init, 
 
 2 There is then a departure from the principle laid down at 
 the beginning of Book I. But Aristotle's position is that, although 
 the art of Rhetoric properly disregards everj^hing but actual 
 proof, yet practically in forensic and political matters such is the 
 power of the emotions, such the influence of the unpressions 
 
 \ 
 
 n.J THE RHETORIC OF ARISTOTLE. 113 
 
 liberative and, although to a less extent, even in 
 forensic oratory, it is a highly important element of 
 proof that the speaker should enjoy the credit of a 
 certain character and should be supposed by his 
 audience to stand in a certain relation to themselves, 
 and further that the audience in their turn should, 
 if possible, have a particular disposition to the 
 speaker. The impression of the speaker's character 
 is especially serviceable in deliberative, and the dis- 
 position of the audience in forensic, matters ; for our 
 estimate of a speech is not the same, but either 
 wlioUy different or different in degree, according as we 
 regard a person with feelings of affection or dislike, 
 and are angrily or charitably disposed towards him. 
 If we are friendly to the person upon whom we have 
 to form a judgment, we regard him as either innocent 
 or guilty of a very slight offence ; if we are inimical to 
 him, the contrary is the case. 
 
 Similarly, when we are in an eager and sanguine 
 mood, the result which is 2)romi8ed ns is probable 
 and advantageous in our eyes ; when we are dispirited 
 and out of humour, it is the reverse. i 
 
 The sources of personal credibility in orators are 
 three ; or in other words there are three things, apart 
 fropL ^demonstrative proofs, which mspirenbeTief, viz. 
 sagacity, hi gh chamcter and good will It is the want 
 
 entertained by the audience as to make some discussion of theory 
 indispensable in a rhetorical treatise. bUaiov yap avTo2s dyapi^c- 
 crBai Tois Trpay/iacrii/, <uot« raXXa f^co toO dnobt^^ai TrfpUpya iariv' 
 aXX* o/xa>f p^fya. hvvarai,, Kaddrrfp €iprjTai dia t^v tov dKpoarov 
 pLoxBr)piav. He justifies in the same way his treatment of 
 stvle. 
 
 II 
 
 Sources of 
 personal 
 iredibility. 
 
 W. R. 
 
 ^UdU^-i^^ 
 
 tr' 
 
 I 
 
 ^i^^^\^ {pc^n^ 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 "1 1 
 
 1'< 
 
 114 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 of all these qualities or of one of them that occasions 
 great errors in matters of discussion or deliberation ; 
 for either people are so foolish that they entertain 
 erroneous opinions, or, although their opinions are 
 right, they are so corrupt that they do not express 
 their true sentiments, or, although they are persons of 
 sagacity and high character, they are not well-disposed 
 to their audience, and perhaps in consequence do not 
 recommend the best policy, although they understand 
 it. These are the three sources of credibility, and 
 there is no other. The necessary inference is that, if 
 a person is supposed to command them all, he will be 
 deserving of credit in the eyes of his audience. 
 
 This being so, the means of getting credit for 
 sagacity and high character must be ascertained from 
 pp. 61 sqq. our aualysis of the virtues, as it is by the same means 
 that we shall succeed in establishing our own cha- 
 racter and the character of others ; goodwill or a 
 friendly disposition on the other hand must be dis- 
 cussed now under the head of the emotions. And b^ 
 the emotions^ Jjiean all such states as are attended 
 by pain and p leasure axujjjy duce a change or di ffer-^ 
 ence in our attitude as JuSggs ^ e.g. anger, co mpass ion, 
 ffiax and the like and their opposites. 
 
 It is proper to consider each emotion under three 
 heads ; if we take e.g. anger, to consider (1) the 
 conditions under which people are irascible, (2) the 
 UKual o bjects, and (3) the usual ^jiafia^^of anger ; for 
 the knowledge of one or two of these points without 
 the third will not enable us to excite the passion of 
 anger, and the same is true of any other emotion. 
 
 Let us follow then our original plan of giving a 
 
 Definition 
 of emotion 
 
 The emo- 
 tions to be 
 considered 
 under three 
 heads. 
 
 detailed account of the proper rhetorical premisses, 
 and let us make an analysis of the etnotions in the^ ^ 
 manner already described. / 
 
 We may define anger as an impulse attended with Chap. ii. 
 pain to a conspicuous* revenge on account of a cOm- emotions.^ 
 spicuous slight shown in some offence against oneself i^fltrtwn 
 or one of one's friends without any natural reason for ®^ ^^''' 
 tlie slight 
 
 This being the definition of anger, it follows that conse- 
 
 quences 
 
 anger is always directed against an individual, let us of the 
 say against Cleon, but not against tlie genus man, and 
 is provoked by something done or intended to be 
 done to oneself or one's friend, and that it is in- 
 variably attended by a certain pleasure arising from 
 the expectation of revenge. For while there is some- 
 thing pleasant in the thought of attaining our aim, 
 nobody aims at such things as are clearly beyond his 
 power, and aecordhigly an angry man always aims at 
 something which is within his power. Hence it is a 
 good description of passion 
 
 "Far sweeter than the flowing stream of honey 
 It wells within the heart^*'; 
 
 for there is a certain concomitant pleasure which is 
 
 ^ It is proposed by Spengel and others to omit the word 
 ** conspicuous " (<t>aivofi€VTjs)y as it goes beyond the definitions of 
 anger given in Tottiko (viii. p. 152 a^^ and nepl "irvxris i. p. 403 
 Ago). But, whatever may be his view elsewhere, in the E/ietoric 
 Aristotle clearly regards the notoriety of the revenge as being an 
 element of the pleasure attending it. Cp. p. 61, 11. 10 — 15. 
 
 2 Iliad xviii. 109, a passage which has been already quoted in 
 part p. 39, 1. 6. 
 
 8—2 
 
 f 
 
 
 I 
 
Slight. 
 
 Three 
 species of 
 slight: 
 (a) con- 
 tempt. 
 
 (b) spite- 
 fulness, 
 
 » 
 
 116 THE RHETORIC [ll, 
 
 due partly to this anticipation of revenge and partly 
 to the dwelling upon revenge in imagination*, so that 
 the impression created at the time, like the impression 
 of a dream, produces pleasure. 
 
 ''A slight is an active manifestation of opinion in 
 reference to something which appears to be wholly 
 unimportant ; for all such things as are good or evil, 
 or as conduce to good or evil, we consider to deserve 
 serious attention ; but if a thing has no such tendency 
 or hardly any, we regard it as wholly unimportant. 
 
 There are three species of slight, viz. contempt, 
 spit^jind jnsolfince. Contempt is a form of slight; 
 for if we regard a thing as wholly unimportant, we 
 feel a contempt for it, and if we feel a contempt for 
 it, we^slight it^ A second fonn of slight is spiteful- 
 ness, spite being an impediment offered to the wishes 
 of others not for the benefit of the person who spites 
 but for the detriment of the person who is spited. 
 It is the fact that the motive of the spiteful action is 
 not the benefit of the agent himself which constitutes 
 the slight ; for it is clear that he does not suppose the 
 person whom lie spites will do him any considerable 
 
 ^ The two elements of pleasure, as here regarded, seem to be 
 (1) the thought that at some future time we shall have our re- 
 venge, (2) WiQ present picturing to ourselves this revenge. 
 
 2 There is no true apodosis ; hence 1 have disregarded the cVci 
 in translating. The thread of the sentence is broken by the 
 parenthesis ical -^ap ra KaKo. K.T.X. 
 
 3 The whole sentence will be clearer and more logical, if it is 
 read thus : o re yap Kora^^ovQiV oKiyoipti^ ocra ya^ oiovrai firjf^fvoi 
 a^ia TovT<t)v KaTa(f)povova'iv, rciv be KaTa(f)popovfi(v<ji>p oXtyupovaLV ' 
 Koi 6 fmjpfd^toVj (OTi yap o (Trqpfaa-fios k.tX. The Words (^alvfrai, 
 KaTa(f)poi/€iv are better omitted. 
 
 iii 
 
 1 1 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 117 
 
 injury or service, as in the former case he would 
 stand in awe of him and would cast no slight upon 
 him, and in the latter he would pay court to him to 
 secure his friendship. Insolence is another form (c) inso- 
 of slight, as being an act of injury or annoyance in- 
 volving the disgrace of the sufferer, not for the sake 
 of any benefit to the agent beyond the mere fact of 
 its having been done, but only for his personal 
 gratification ; for the requital of injuries is not 
 insolence but revenge. The source of the pleasure 
 found in insolent action is the feeling that in injuring 
 others we are claiming an exceptional superiority to 
 them. This is the reason of the insolence of the 
 young and the wealthy ; they look upon it as a mark 
 of superiority. One species of insolent action is dis- 
 respect, and this again involves a slight ; for if a 
 thing is wholly unimportant, it is not* respected as 
 having any value either for good or for evil. Hence 
 Achilles in his anger says 
 
 2 "Dishonoured am I; he hath ta*en my prize 
 And doth maintain it." 
 
 and again 
 
 "Like some dishonoured vagabond." 
 
 implying that this is the cause of his anger. Now we 
 suppose that we have a natural right to a high degree 
 
 1 It is difficult in English to preserve the two meanings of 
 Tt/ii; (1) "honour" or "respect," which connects it with drifiia, 
 (2) "value" which is suited to the words ovt dyadov ovre 
 
 KQKOV. 
 
 2 The j)a8sages referred to are taken as instances of the slight 
 implied in disrespectful or dishonourable treatment. Iliad i. 356; 
 IX. 644. 
 
 I 
 
Conditions 
 of anger. 
 
 i 
 
 118 THE KHETORIC [ll, 
 
 of consideration at the hands of persons who are our 
 inferiors in birth, power or virtue, and indeed in any- 
 thing common both to us and to them in which we 
 have a great superiority, as e.g. in wealth a man of 
 large property to a poor man, in oratory a good 
 speaker to a bad one, and in 2)olitical affairs a ruler 
 to a subject, or one who fancies himself born to rule 
 to one who is only bom to serve. Hence the ^ lines 
 
 " Great pride is there of kings the sons of Gods," 
 and 
 
 "Yet afterward he beareth still a grudge"; 
 
 for the indignation expressed in these lines is due to 
 the sense of superiority. Again, we expect esjjecial 
 consideration from persons who are bound under an 
 obligation, as we suppose, to treat us well, i.e. persons 
 upon whom benefits have been or are being conferred 
 or are or were intended to be conferred either by 
 ourselves or by somebody at our instigation or by one 
 of our friends. 
 
 We see clearly then from this statement of the 
 case the conditions under which people become 
 angry, the persons with whom they are angry and 
 the grounds of anger. We become angry under a 
 sense of annoyance ; for if a person is annoyed, there 
 is something at which he aims. Whether it is di- 
 
 ^ The quotations, as their contexts show, illustrate the prin- 
 ciple that "one who fancies himself bom to rule" expects a high 
 consideration or respect from "one who is only bom to serve." In 
 the first {Iliad ii. 196) it is Odysseus who addresses the chieftains 
 after the speech in which Agamemnon counsels flight; in the 
 second {Iliad i. 82) it is Calchas who deprecates the revengeful 
 anger of Agamemnon. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 119 
 
 II.] 
 
 rectly then that somebody thwarts us in any respect, 
 as e. g. in preventing us from drinking when we are 
 thirsty, or only indirectly, the effect appears to be 
 the same in both cases ; and whether a person op- 
 poses us or refuses to co-operate with us or occasions 
 us any other trouble when we are in this condition, 
 we invariably become angry with him. Accordingly 
 it is in sickness, in poverty, ' in war, in love, when 
 we are thirsty or have any kind of unsatisfied desire 
 that we are irascible and readily excited to anger 
 not only, although in an especial degree, against 
 such persons as show a slighting indifference to our 
 present condition, whether it be our malady, if we 
 are ill, or our poverty, if we are poor, or the war in 
 which we are engaged, if we are at war, or our love, 
 if we are lovers, but similarly against other people 
 as well, according as we are individually predisposed 
 by our present emotion or condition to be angr}' 
 in each particular case. Another occasion of anger 
 is when what takes place is the contrary of our 
 anticipations ; for the greatness of the surprise is 
 an intensification of the annoyance, as it is of the 
 pleasure too, if our wishes are gratified. 
 
 It is clear then from these considerations what 
 sorts of seasons, times, dispositions and periods of 
 life are easily excited to anger and what are the 
 usual places and occasions of anger ; it is clear too 
 that, the more these conditions are realized, the more 
 excitable to anger we are. 
 
 1 Probably Bekker is right in inserting 7ro\€fiovvT€s, aa without 
 it the sentence given below, TroXe/ioav Se toU nphs ToviroKefwv, is out 
 of place. 
 
 
 I' 
 
 N 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 120 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 Persons Such theii being the conditions under which we 
 
 whom anger are readily excited to anger, the persons against 
 whom our anger is directed are those who mock and 
 sneer and gibe at us, as they are insolent to us, or 
 who do us injury of such a kind as betokens inso- 
 lence, i.e. such of course as is neither retaliatory 
 in its nature nor beneficial to the authors of it; for, 
 if it is neither, it necessarily appears to be due to 
 insolence. We are angry too with persons who dis- 
 parage and despise the things to which we ourselves 
 attach most importance, e.g. our philosophy, if it 
 is philosophy upon which we pride ourselves, our 
 personal appearance, if it is our appearance and so 
 on. And this is particularly the case, if we entertain 
 a suspicion that we do not possess the said advan- 
 tages at all, or do not possess them in a high degree, 
 or are not believed to possess them ; for if it is our 
 firm persuasion ' that we possess the advantages in 
 respect of which, Le.for the absence of which, we are 
 satirized, we treat the satire with contempt. Again, 
 we are more disposed to he angry with our own 
 friends than with strangers, if they treat ns badly, 
 as we suppose ourselves to have a natural claim to 
 good treatment rather than the reverse at their 
 hands. We are soon angry too with persons who 
 have usually treated us with honour or respect, if 
 they turn round and treat us in a different spirit ; 
 for we imagine they have come to feel a contempt 
 for us, as otherwise they would continue to act as 
 they always have acted. Or with persons who fail 
 
 ^ Omitting cV tovtoi^ ; but it is a question if iv etc should not 
 be altered to c0* ots. 
 
 T 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 121 
 
 11.] 
 
 to requite our services or who fail to make an ade- 
 quate return for them, or with persons who act 
 against our interests, if they are our inferiors ; ' for 
 both these classes show a certain apparent contempt 
 for us, the former by treating us as inferiors, and 
 the latter by treating our services as if they had 
 been rendered by inferiors. We are especially an^jfry 
 with persons of no consideration, if they pass a slight 
 upon us ; for it is assumed in accordance with the 
 definition that the anger provoked by the slight is 
 directed against such persons as have no natural 
 right to treat us in this manner, and it is the natural 
 duty of our inferiors not to slight us. Or with our 
 friends, if they do not speak well of us or treat us 
 well, and still more, if they do the reverse ; or if they 
 fail to perceive what we want, ' as Plexippus in the 
 play of Antiphon was angry with Meleager ; for 
 the fact of their not perceiving it is an evidence of 
 slight, as, if we respect a person, we do not ignore his 
 wants. Or with persons who rejoice at our mis- 
 fortunes or show any kind of cheerfulness in the 
 course of them, as such conduct is an indication 
 either of enmity or of slight. Or with those who 
 do not reflect upon the possibility of giving us pain ; 
 
 J Bekker's text does not show, as it should, that the reason 
 alleged applies to both the preceding sentences. It would 
 be better to put a comma only, or at most a colon, after dwairobi- 
 
 dovo-ii/. 
 
 2 This very doubtful allusion is explained, so far as explanation 
 
 is possible, in Mr Cope's note. Plexippus was uncle of Meleager, 
 and it is supposed that Meleager's insensibility to his wants con- 
 sisted in not making him a present of the skin, which was the 
 prize of the Caledonian boarhunt. 
 
 ' *i 
 
i 
 
 
 122 THE KHETORIC [ll. 
 
 this is the explanation of the anger felt against the 
 messengers who bring us bad news. Or with those 
 who either listen to the tale of our weaknesses or 
 look on at any exhibition of them vdth indifference, 
 as such behaviour is akin to a slight, if not indeed 
 to actual enmity ; for a man's friends sympathize 
 with the pain he suffers, and ^everybody is pained 
 at the spectacle of his own weaknesses. Again, tve 
 are angry with persons who put a slight upon us 
 in the presence of any of the following five classes 
 of people, viz. our rivals, those who are the objects 
 of our admiration, those whose admiration we are 
 desirous to gain, those whom we reverence or those 
 who reverence us. Or with persons who put a slight 
 upon objects whicli we are bound in honour to de- 
 fend, such as our parents, children, wives or subjects. 
 Or with persons who make no return for favours 
 conferred upon them, as such a slight is a violation 
 of natural duty. Or who treat us ironically when 
 we are in earnest, as there is something contemptuous 
 in irony. Or who confer benefits upon others, 
 unless they are also benefactors of ourseh es ; as 
 it is one sign of contempt not to treat us with the 
 same esteem as everybody else. "Another proyo- 
 cati ve^ of anger is forgetfulness, e.g. forgetfulness 
 ofjiames, although it is shown only in so trifling a 
 matter ; for forgetfulness too is apparently a sign 
 
 1 It is necessarj' to remember that a friend in the Aristotelian 
 view is " a second self " {€T€pos avVoj). 
 
 2 Aristotle passes in this sentence from the objects to the 
 motives or at least to one motive of anger ; but the two heads 
 (p. 55, II. 22—25) are so closely related as to be inseparable. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 123 
 
 of slight, as arising from indifference which is itself 
 
 a slight. 
 
 The persons with whom we are apt to be angry 
 and the conditions and causes of anger having thus been 
 all treated together, ^fjsjvident that the task which 
 lies before us is brj^our speech to bring^theaudience 
 trT"cout[iti oir of irascibility , and to represent our 
 ^[aver^^"S;^^n£;^^of the feelings and actions 
 which provoEe men to anger and as possessing a 
 character againsrTvWCh"anger is felt. 
 
 Xs to become angry is the opposite of becomin^ 
 placable, and anger of placability, we have to ascertain 
 the conditions of placability, the persons towards 
 whom we are placably disposed and the means by 
 which we become placable. 
 
 The process of becoming placable may be defined 
 
 as a settling down or quieting of anger. If then it is 
 
 persons who slight us that are the objects of anger, 
 
 and a slight is a voluntary action, it is clear that we 
 
 are placably disposed to such persons as do not treat 
 
 us with any sort of slight or do so, or appear to do so, 
 
 unintentionally. Also to persons whose intention is 
 
 contrary to their action. Or to persons who behave to 
 
 themselves in the same way as to us ; for it is assumed 
 
 that nobody will put a slight on himself. Or to 
 
 persons who acknowledge and repent their fault ; for 
 
 then we cease to be angry under the impression that 
 
 in the pain which they feel at their own past conduct 
 
 we have received a certain satisfaction. This we may 
 
 infer from the punishment of domestic slaves; for 
 
 while, if they contradict us and deny the deed, we 
 
 increase the punishment, if they admit the justice 
 
 Definition 
 of placa- 
 bihty. 
 
 Persons to- 
 wards whom 
 it is natural 
 to be pla- 
 cable. 
 
124 THE RHETORIC [n. 
 
 of the punishment, our anger ceases. The reason 
 is that the denial of notorious facts is an act of 
 'eflrontery or gross disrespect, and effrontery is a form 
 of slight or contempt; at all events, if we feel a 
 thorough contempt for a person, we do not respect 
 him. Again, we are placably disposed to such persons 
 as humble themselves before us and offer no contra- 
 diction to us; for their attitude looks like a con- 
 fession of inferiority, and inferiority implies awe, and 
 nobody who is in a state of awe offers a slight That 
 anger subsides when the objects of it humble them- 
 selves is evident even from the 'conduct of dogs in not 
 biting anybody who sits down when they attack him. 
 We are placable too to those who take us seriously 
 when we are serious, as such seriousness appears to 
 exclude contempt. Or to those who have laid us 
 under obligations greater than we can return. Or 
 to those who entreat us and deprecate our anger, 
 as so far they humiliate themselves. Or to those who 
 are never guilty of insolence or mockery or slight 
 against anybody or against virtuous people or against 
 people like ourselves. '(It is indeed a general rule 
 that the means of producing placability are to be 
 ascertained by a consideration of their opposites.) Or 
 
 * The etymological connexion of avmaxwria and al(rxvv6' 
 fifOa contributes something to the argument and should be noted, 
 although it can hardly be preserved in translation. 
 
 2 Mr Cope refers to Homer Odyssey xiv. 29-31. It is well 
 known that sitting was in the Greek view a posture of suppli- 
 cation. 
 
 3 There is something strangely abnipt in the introduction of 
 this sentence ; it is a kind of afterthought or footnote. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 125 
 
 II.] 
 
 to persons who are the objects of our awe or respect ; 
 for so long as we are in this state of mind, we do not 
 feel angry with them, as it is impossible to be awed 
 and angry at the same time. Again, if pei-sons have 
 acted on an impulse of passion, we either do not feel 
 angry with them at all or feel less angry, as their 
 action does not appear to be the result of slight ; for 
 anger and slight are incompatible, the former being 
 attended with pain and the latter not. 'And the same 
 is the case, if they are persons who feel a respect 
 
 for us. 
 
 Comhig now to the second point, it is clear that conditions 
 we are placable when we are in such a condition as is bihty. 
 opposed to angry feeling, e.g. at a time of sport or 
 laughter or festivity or in the enjoyment of prosperity 
 or success or gratification or genei-ally of freedom 
 from pain, of pleasure apart from insolence and of 
 virtuous hope. Also we are placable after a certain 
 interval of time, and when our anger is no longer 
 fresh; for the mere lapse of time appeases anger. 
 Again, anger— even more violent anger— against one 
 person is appeased by punishment already exacted 
 from another. Accordingly it was a clever answer of 
 Philocrates, when he was asked in a time of popular 
 fury, "Why do you not defend yourself?" "Not yet" 
 he replied. "When then?" "As soon as I see some- 
 body else in disgrace." The fa^jt is that we become 
 placable when we have spent our anger upon some- 
 
 1 The contradiction between this passage and p. 58, 11. 18—20 
 is only a seeming one ; for Aristotle is there thinking of people 
 who have lost their old respect for us, and here of people who have 
 not lost it but have done something apparently inconsistent with it. 
 
p. 115. 
 
 p. 115. 
 
 126 THE RHETORIC [n. 
 
 body els e, as happened in the case of ^Ergophilus ; for 
 although the Athenians were more indignant with 
 him than with Callistlienes, yet they acquitted him, 
 because on the previous day they had sentenced 
 Callisthenes to death. The same is the case, if we 
 feel pity for a person, or if he has suffered a heavier 
 penalty than we in our anger would have inflicted 
 upon liim; for then we feel that we have in a way got 
 our revenge. Or if we consider ourselves to be in the 
 wrong and to deserve no better treatment than we 
 receive ; for what is just is not provocative of anger, 
 as we cease in such a case to regard our treatment 
 as a violation of our natural rights, which is essential, 
 as we have seen, to the idea of anger. This is the 
 reason why actual punishment should be preceded 
 by expostulation (which is itself a sort of punish- 
 ment), as it takes the sting out of punishment even 
 in the case of slaves. We are placable again, if we 
 think the victims of punishment will not perceive 
 that it is we who inflict it and that it is inflicted in 
 retaliation for injuries done to us ; for anger is always 
 directed against individuals, as is clear from the defi- 
 nition of it Hence there is a trait of nature in the 
 words 
 
 2" Say twas Odysseus, pillager of cities," 
 
 ^ It was in 362 B.C. that Ergophilus was in command at the 
 Chersonese against the Thracian king Cotys, and Callisthenes 
 against the Amphipolitans and Perdiccas. See Mr Grote's History 
 of Greece^ ch. Ixxx. vol x. pp. 129 sqq. Ergophilus was generally 
 unsuccessful, but Callisthenes seems to have suspended operations 
 at the moment when there was a possibility of capturing 
 Amphipolis. 
 
 2 Odyssey ix. 504. Odysseus, having blinded the Cyclops, tells 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 127 
 
 as if the revenge were not complete, unless the 
 Cyclops were aware of the author and the motive. It 
 follows that we ne ver_j;maLjaiigry wlthL ujniconsc^ 
 beings^nor again do we^pur&ue the dead with our 
 anger, as we believe that their tale of suffering is 
 complete and that they are no more susceptible of 
 pain or any such feeling as it is our effort, when we 
 are angry, to produce. Thus in the case of Hector 
 there is a propriety in the poet's language, 'when 
 seeking to divert Achilles from his anger against the 
 dead 
 
 2«xis but dull dust his fury violates*'— 
 
 It i s clear then that an orator, if he wishes to 
 pro duceplac ability, mu st choos e^ these topics as the 
 mSteri^nrTJThisjpeech, bringing ' his aucUence to a 
 suitable^frame of mind and representing the objects 
 of their anger as either formidable or worthy of 
 
 him that the author of the deed was " Odysseus son of Laertes, 
 who hath his dwelling in Ithaca." 
 
 1 The idiom by which a writer is represented afi actually doing 
 what he describes as being done, or as using the language which he 
 puts into the mouths of his characters, is common enough in Greek 
 as well as in other languages. See Mr Cope's note. 
 
 2 Iliad xxiv. 54. 
 
 3 Reading avrovi i.e. rovs Kpiras. Cp. p. 66, L 17 ; p. 76, 1. 16. 
 IU8not_th e^ orator who is suppo sed to be the object of_ang ei^ 
 in the clause avrovs n^v napacrKcvdCovai toiovtovs, nor again is it 
 the orator who is supposed to feel anger in the clause ols 8* 6pyi- 
 (ovrai K.T.X. The j udges are ansp-y with so meone for whomjihe 
 orator plead s ; and it is his eflfort to appease their anger (1) by 
 pVoducingTn them a temper of placability, (2) by showing that the 
 l^erson against whom their anger is directed possesses such quali- 
 ties or recommendations as should avert it 
 
 ? 
 
 i 
 
 5 
 
 1 
 
i t 
 
 Definition 
 of love. 
 
 Definition 
 of a friend. 
 
 128 THE RHETORIC [iT. 
 
 respect or as having been former benefactors or in- 
 voluntary agents or as exceedingly distressed at their 
 own deeds. 
 CHAP.m ^Thej^ersons who are the ol^ects of lo ve an d 
 (4) HaSed) hatred and the causerwhich produce these feelin gs 
 are'now to be described ; but first let us define love 
 and~flie act of loving. 
 
 We may say that to love a person qi\Jq h e his 
 friend: is^o wishTiim all such things ay ou^suj)£Ose 
 to be gop drnot for your own sake but for.hjj? an d to 
 be ready so far as in you lies to effect tb^m. A friend 
 is one who loves and is beloved in return ; people 
 who regard themselves as standing in this relation to 
 each other call themselves friends. 
 
 From these assumed definitions it follows that a 
 friend is one who shares the pleasure of another in 
 his prosperity and his pain in adversity, not for any 
 secondary motive but solely for that other's sake. 
 For as we all feel pleasure in the realization of our 
 wishes and pain in opposite circumstances, it follows 
 that our pains and pleasures are themselves an in- 
 dication of our wishes. Again, people are friends, ^if 
 they have learnt to agree in their conception of 
 things good and evil, or if they have the same friends 
 or the same enemies ; for such persons will necessarily 
 agree in their wishes, and therefore, if your wishes 
 for another are the same as for yourself, you show 
 
 1 There is a diflBculty throughout this chapter in hitting the 
 precise sense of (^iXfiv, which varies between "loving" and 
 " liking," and in preserving the connexion of c^tXcIi/ with <^iXor and 
 
 ^iXta. 
 
 2 Reading ^Si; instead of d^'. 
 
 Conse- 
 quences of 
 tne defini- 
 tions. 
 
 i 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 129 
 
 yourself thereby to be his friend. Again, we love Persons 
 people, or are their friendSy if they have rendered the object ; 
 
 services either to ourselves or to those in whom we 
 
 feel an interest, or if they have rendered us im- 
 portant services or have rendered them con amove or 
 on critical occasions or from disinterested motives, or 
 if we believe that it is their wish to render us 
 services. We love them too, if they are friends of 
 our friends and if they love the same people as we 
 ourselves love ; or if they are loved by persons who 
 are the objects of our own love ; or if they have the 
 same enemies as we have and hate the same people 
 as we ourselves hate ; or if they are hated by the 
 objects of our own hate. For all these classes of 
 people consider the same things to be good as we do 
 ourselves and therefore wish such things as are good 
 for ourselves, which is the definition, as we have 
 seen, of a friend. Again, we are fond of persons who 
 are ready to assist us pecuniarily or in defence against 
 personal injury ; hence the respect paid to generosity 
 and valour. *0r of just persons, and we regard as just 
 all who do not live by preying upon their neighbours, 
 i.e. all who work for their living and chief among 
 these the agriculturalists and chief among agricul- 
 turalists the small farmers who labour with their own 
 hands. Or again of temperate or orderly persons, be- 
 cause they refrain from crime. Or of persons who 
 mind their own business, for the same reason. Or 
 of persons with whom we wish to be friends, if they 
 show the same inclination, I mean persons of virtuous 
 
 ^ It is better to put a full stop after rifiaxn and only a colon 
 after tovs diKalovs, 
 
 W. R. 9 
 
 I 
 
 'I 
 
 
 II ! 
 
 il 
 
 1 
 
# 
 
 I' 
 
 I 
 
 
 130 THE RHETORIC [iT. 
 
 character and high renown either universally or in 
 the society of the most nrtuous people or of those 
 who are admired by us or who themselves admire us. 
 Again, we are fond of such persons as are pleasant 
 companions for a day or a lifetime, e.g. of^^gofid- 
 natured j)eople who will not be always bringingjip 
 our faults jigainst us and who are not contentious or 
 crSsgrained, as ail such people manifest a pugnacious 
 spirit, which implies that their wishes are contrary to 
 ours ; *or again of people who have a certain amount 
 of tact in giving and receiving badinage^ as whether 
 / they are good-humoured butts or graceful jesters, they 
 ( have the same object in view as the opposite parties 
 \ in the combat of ivit, viz, mutiuil ammenient We 
 are fond t oo of p eople who laud such accomplish- 
 ments^ asjgf pnaapas^ papftpjally if we are doubtRil 
 about possessing them. Or of those who are neat in 
 person, dress and general manner of life. Or^who 
 are not fond of casting our faults or their own^er- 
 vices in our teeth, as, if they do either one o rJJie 
 other, they are censorious. Or who do not bear 
 malTce'orliurse their grievances but are always ready 
 to make friends again ; for as we suppose them to 
 behave in their dealings with others, so we imagine 
 they will behave in their dealings with us. Or who 
 are not backbiters and do not notice the bad points 
 in our neighbours or ourselves but only the good ; for 
 V^uch is the conduct of a good man. Or who do not 
 try to thwart people when they are angry or in earnest, 
 as a person who will so act is of a pugnacious character. 
 
 1 Changing the full stop after /SoiJXecr^at to a colon, so as to 
 mark the construction of the sentence. 
 
 N * 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 131 
 
 Or who have a certain good feeling towards us, e.g. 
 who respect us and have a good opinion of us and 
 are fond of our society, especially if the grounds of 
 their respect or fondness are qualities for which we 
 are ourselves particularly anxious either to be re- 
 spected or thought well of or liked. Or who resemble 
 us and have the same pursuits, so long as they do not 
 interfere with us or get their living in the same way ; 
 for then it is a case of " two of a trade." Or who de- 
 sire what we ourselves desire, provided that it is 
 something which admits of being shared in common ; 
 otherwise, the case is the same as before. AVe are 
 fond too of people with whom we stand upon such 
 terms that in their presence we feel no shame about 
 appearances, provided that this feeling is not due to 
 contempt Or of people in whose presence we are 
 ashamed of our own real faults. Again, if a person 
 is our rival or one by whom we wish to be emulated, 
 not envied, we either love him or wish to be his 
 friends. The same is the case, if we cooperate with a 
 pei-son for his advantage, provided that in hdphig 
 Mm we are not likely to incur a greater loss our- 
 selves. Or if he is as true to his friends in their ab- 
 sence as when they are present ; hence the kindly 
 feeling we entertain towards those who show them- 
 selves the friends of the dead. It is in fact a general 
 rule that we are fond of people who are very true to 
 their own friends and never desert them ; for there 
 are no good men who are so much liked as good 
 friends. Or of people who are not artificial in their 
 dealing with us, such as people who speak frankly of 
 their own weaknesses. For it has been already said 
 
 9—2 
 
 b.4l 
 
 ! 
 
 . 
 
The species 
 of friend- 
 ship. 
 
 132 THE RHETORIC [iT. 
 
 that in the presence of our friends we feel no shame 
 about appearances, and from this it follows that, if 
 such shame is incompatible with friendship, the ab- 
 sence of it is a probable mark of a friend. Or of 
 people who are not formidable to us and 4n whose 
 presence we feel confidence ; for it is impossible to 
 be fond of anyone whom we fear. 
 
 The various species of friendship are companion- 
 ship, intimacy, relationship and the like. The causes 
 itsc^^. ^yhich produce it are favours conferred and conferred 
 without solicitation and never made public by the 
 benefactor himself, as in such case it is plain that 
 they are conferred from love of the recipient and not 
 from any secondary motive. 
 
 As to enmity and the feeling of hatred, it is clear 
 that they must be studied by a consideration of their 
 Its causes, oppositcs. The ^uses which produce enmity are 
 The distinc- anger, sp ite and flBjtQdic e. The differencelSetween 
 tween anger augcr audeumity is that, while the former is always 
 occasioned by personal wrongs, the latter exists equally 
 without such wrongs ; for if we suppose that a person 
 has a character of a certain kind, we hate him. Again, 
 while anger is always concerned with individual cases, 
 while we feel angry e.g. with an individual like 
 Callias or Socrates, hatred is directed equally against 
 whole classes of persons ; for a thief or an informer is 
 an object of universal hatred. In the third place, 
 anger is curable by time, but hatred is not. Also 
 while anger is a longing to inflict pain, hatred on the 
 other hand is a longing to inflict evil ; for an angry 
 
 ^ Not otr; Mr Shilleto is undoubtedly right in preferring 
 For the constniction cp. p. 67, 1. 6. 
 
 Enmity or 
 hatred. 
 
 ovs. 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 133 
 
 man wishes to perceive the effect of his anger, but if 
 a man hates another, it is not important to him 
 that he shmdd perceive tJie effect of his hatred. 
 Now although painful things are always objects of 
 perception, the worst evils, such as injustice and 
 foolishness, are the hardest to perceive, for there is 
 nothing painful in the presence of vice. Again, pain 
 is a concomitant of anger but not of hatred ; you 
 cannot feel anger, as you can hatred, without pain. 
 Lastly while there are many tilings which in anger 
 may produce a sentiment of compassion, it is not so 
 in hatred ; for the aim of the former is to inflict 
 suffering, as a retaliation, upon its object, but that of 
 the latter is to compass his destruction. 
 
 From all this it is evident that th ere is a po ssi- 
 bility of de monstratin^the fact of enm ity oH^jend- 
 ^Ktppwl^S^ they exist. Vnd of creating; them, wher e 
 t fiey do not exi st, and, where ^they are alle ged^^f 
 refuting the al lej^ion and, if it is disputed v:1iether a 
 particular action is due to anger or enmity, of refer- 
 ring it to either the one or the other, as we may choose. 
 
 The objects which inspire fear, whether they be c^p^ 
 persons or things, and the conditions under which we 
 are liable to it, will be evident, if we look at them as 
 follows. 
 
 Fear may be defined as a species of pain or d is- ^fi^j.tion 
 t urbance arisinfif from an impression of impendin g 
 evil which is destructive or painful in its natu re. 
 It is necessary that tJie evil should be destructive or 
 painful; for it is not every kind of evil that we 
 fear— we do not fear e.g. the prospect of being un- 
 just or stupid— but such evil only as amounts to 
 
 U 
 
t 
 
 !ts 
 
 134 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [n. 
 
 great pain or destruction, and even this only if it is 
 evidently not remote but near at hand and in con- 
 sequence imminent For such evils as are exceed- 
 ingly remote we do not fear ; we are all aware e.g. 
 that we shall die, but, inasmuch as death is not near, 
 we do not think about it 
 
 Such then being the nature of fear, it is evident 
 that all such things are formidable as appear to have 
 a great power of destroying or of inflicting injury which 
 tends to grievous pain. Accordingly the signs of all 
 such things are formidable, as the sign implies the 
 nearness of the formidable object ; for it is just this 
 approach of something formidable which constitutes 
 danger. The enmity and anger of persons who have 
 the power of doing us mischief are examples ; for as 
 their mischievous desire is unmistakeable, it is clear 
 that the mischief will not be long postponed. An- 
 other example is criminality armed with power ; for 
 the purpose to commit crime may he assumed^ as it 
 is the purpose which constitutes the criminality of 
 a criminal. A third is outraged virtue armed with 
 power ; for it is clear that virtue, whenever it is out- 
 
 /^/raged, purposes vengeance, and in the case supposed 
 ylias the power to execute it A fourth is fear on the 
 Jpart of persons who have the power of doing us mis- 
 chief, as such persons too will necessarily be in a 
 state of preparation. But as the majority o f men are 
 I di8posed_fc o^ vice and are slav es to the love of ^n 
 [ and'^owards injhe face of dangers, it is for the most 
 pairTa formidable thing to be dependent upon any- 
 body else ; and therefore if a person has committed 
 a deed of horror, his accomplices inspire him with 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 135 
 
 
 II.] 
 
 the fear that they will either denounce him or leave 
 him in the lurch. Also persons who are in a position 
 to commit crime are formidable to persons who are 
 in a position to be the victims of it; fojLJL JS ^ , 
 general rule that people commit erimea^ whenever 
 they can. People who have been or, as they imagine, 
 are stiiTthe victims of crime are formidable, as they 
 are always on the watch for an opportunity of re- 
 vetige. People who have already committed crime, 
 if they have the power of inflicting injury, are for- 
 midable from their fear of retaliation ; for it was 
 laid down before that such a condition of fear ispi^*. 
 formidable. So too people who are competitors for 
 the same objects as oui-selves, if they are such as 
 cannot be enjoyed simultaneously by both ; for we 
 are always at war with people of this kind. Or 
 people who are formidable to our superiors ; for if 
 they can actually injure our superiors, a fortixyri they 
 will be able to injure us. Or who inspire our su- 
 periors with fear, for the same reason. Or who have 
 destroyed our superiors, *or are making an attack 
 upon our inferiors; for the former are formidable 
 already, and the latter unll he formidahle, when their 
 power has been increased. Among people who have 
 been injured by us and among our enemies or rivals 
 it is not the quick-tempered and outspoken who are 
 formidable, but the undemonstrative and hypocriticaK 
 and unscrupulous, as we never know whether their/ 
 attack is imminent and consequently are never sure 
 that it is remote. Again, any formidable thing is 
 
 1 There should be only a colon after ai/i^pT/Korf s ; the reason 
 sieged below applies to botli the preceding clauses. 
 
 r * 
 

 tions 
 
 136 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ii. 
 
 still more formidable, if it is one in which a mistake, 
 once made, cannot be repaired, whether indeed it is 
 absolutely irreparable or reparable only at the plea- 
 sure of our adversaries and not at our own. Or if it 
 is one in which remedial action is impossible or very 
 difficult. Generally speaking too, a thing is for- 
 midable to us, if it * excites compassion when it hap- 
 pens or threatens to happen to others. 
 
 Such then being practically the principal things 
 which are formidable and objects of fear, let us pro- 
 ceed to describe the mental conditions under which 
 we ourselves experience fear. 
 
 Assuming that fear is attended by an expectation 
 of suflTering something of a destructive kind, we see at 
 once that nobody is subject to fear who regards him- 
 self as incapable of suffering ; nor does anybody feel 
 fear of things which he thinks he will be unlikely 
 to suffer or of people from w^hom or at times 
 during which he thinks he will be unlikely to 
 suffer them. It is a necessary condition therefore 
 of fear that a person should regard himself as capable 
 of suffering in the abstract and of suffering at the 
 hands of particular people and in particular ways 
 and at particular times. Now people who do not 
 believe in their own capability of suffering are 
 those who are or think they are in great pros- 
 perity and who are consequently insolent, con- 
 temptuous, and audacious, being made so by wealth 
 or bodily strength or the number of their clientele 
 or their power ; or again, those who think they have 
 already drained the cup of woes and who have grown 
 ^ cXXf f tva is a mere misprint for eXeetra. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 137 
 
 II.] 
 
 callous in regard to the future, like persons at the 
 point of being bastinadoed to death ; they have no 
 fear, for they have lost all hope, whereas in order that 
 fear may be ^^ossible there must be still some under- 
 lying hope of preservation from the evil which 
 causes their agony. One evidence of this tnith is 
 that fear inclines people to deliberation, whereas ^ 
 
 1 
 
 Whejii 
 
 a udience with fea r, it is proper to produce upon 
 their minds th ejmpression that thfiy.ai:e^ capable o f 
 suffering, inasmuch as others who were greater than 
 they suffered before them, and to give instances of 
 their peers suffering or having suffered, and that 
 from unexpected quarters and in unexpected ways 
 and at unexpected times. 
 
 Having ascertained now the nature of fear and ^^^J,^^"^' 
 of formidable things and the conditions under which 
 particular classes of people are afraid, we see at once 
 as a corollary the nature of confidence, the sort of 
 things which inspire confidence and the mental con- 
 ditions under which we are confident. For as con- 
 fidence is opposed to fear, and what is a source of 
 confidence to a source of fear, it follows that Ih^ 
 hope which v< the chara^iteristic of on^iMence is its nature. 
 accompanied by an imnressip n ()i salutary things 
 n^^jiPgLT^ hiind and of formidable things as HQU- 
 existent or re^te. The sources of confidence are ^^^^^^^^ 
 the remoteness of dangers and the nearness of ^en- 
 couragements. We fed confidence too, if there are 
 
 1 The use of the adjective OappoKfos in the definition of to 
 BappoKia is a singular carelessness. 
 
Conditions 
 of confi- 
 dence. 
 
 I 
 
 11 
 
 138 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 means of rectification or remedy, whether numerous 
 or effectual or both, and if we have been neither the 
 victims nor the perpetrators of crime, and if we have 
 no competitors at all or such as are powerless or, 
 if powerful, sUch as are friendly to us or have ren- 
 dered us services or received services from us, or 
 if the persons whose interests coincide with our own 
 are in a superiority of numbers or power or both. 
 
 The conditions under which we feel confidence 
 are when we suppose we have often succeeded and 
 not come to harm, or when we have often encoun- 
 tered dangers and survived them ; for there are 
 two ways in which people are rendered Unsensible 
 to fear^ viz. either by having had no previous ex- 
 perience of the danger or by possessing resources 
 against it, as in times of peril at sea it is people 
 who have never seen a storm on the one hand and 
 people whose experience furnishes them with re- 
 sources on the other that face the future with con- 
 fidence. Another cmiditlon which inspires con- 
 Jide7ice is when the danger is not formidable to our 
 peers or inferiors or to those to whom we consider 
 ourselves superior, as is the case, if we have con- 
 quered either them or their superiors or peers. Or 
 when we consider ourselves to have the advantage 
 in the number and degree of those points of su- 
 periority which make people formidable, i.e. in wealth, 
 bodily strength, or strength of connexions, of ter- 
 ritory and of all or the most important sinews of 
 
 1 diradeis has here the sense of freedom, not, as usually, from 
 the irddrf in general but from the nddot which is especially under 
 consideration, i.e. fear. 
 
 at 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 139 
 
 war. Or when we have not committed any crime 
 against anyone or against many people or against 
 such people as arc the objects of our fear ; ^ or again 
 in general if our relations to the gods, especially as 
 shown by omens and oracles, are satisfactory ; for 
 there is a certain amount of confidence in anger, 
 and it is a sense of crime committed against us rather 
 than by us which is provocative of anger, and 
 Heaven is assumed to be on the side of the injured. 
 Or lastly when we suppose we are likely or certain 
 to take no harm or to be successful in our under- 
 taking. 
 
 So much then for the objects which inspire either 
 fear or confidence. I proceed to explain the character- 
 istics of such objects as excite sentiments of shame or 
 shamelessness, the persons in whose presence they are 
 experienced and the conditions under which we ex- 
 perience them. 
 
 Shame may be defined as a species j f pain .or_dis- 
 turbance hi regard to evil things, either past,.£re8ent 
 or^ture, which have an appearance of tendiagjo 
 ignominy ; and ahamcle ssness as a species o fjliglitj)r 
 indifference in regr dto these same thin^. 
 
 Such then being the definition we give of shame, 
 it necessarily follows that we feel shame at all such 
 evil things as appear to be shameful either to our- 
 selves or to the objects of our care, such e.g. as actions 
 which are the results of vice, like the throwing away a 
 shield in battle or running away; for these actions 
 
 1 Changing the full stop after (jto^ovvrai, as Mr Cope himself 
 suggests, to a colon, in order to mark that the clauses 0appa\(ov 
 yap 7 opyrj K.r.X. are explanatory of both preceding sentences. 
 
 Chap. VI. 
 
 (7) Shame. 
 
 (8) Shame- 
 lessness. 
 
 Definition 
 of shame 
 
 and of 
 shameless- 
 ness. 
 
 Conse- 
 quences of 
 the defini- 
 tion of 
 shame. 
 
 Shameful 
 actions. 
 
 1 
 
 "i'l 
 
 1 1 
 
i 
 
 140 THE RHETORIC [n* 
 
 both result from cowardice. Another instance is the 
 refusal to restore a deposit, such an action being 
 a result of criminality. Or sexual intercourse with 
 improper persons or in improper places or at im- 
 proper times, as it proceeds from a licentious dis- 
 position. Or again to make money from mean or 
 shameful sources or from those who cannot help 
 themselves as e.g. the poor or the dead, (whence the 
 proverb "to rob even a coq^se of its shroud "), for 
 such conduct springs from illiberality and a sordid 
 love of gain. Or to refuse pecuniary assistance, when 
 it is in one's power to give it, or to give it in an 
 inadequate measure. Or to receive such assistance 
 from persons who are not so wealthy as oneself. *0r 
 borrowing when it will look like begging, or begging 
 when it will look like asking a return, or asking a 
 return when it will look like begging, or flattering 
 with the view of being taken to beg, and this per- 
 sistently in spite of previous failure; for all such 
 conduct is a mark of illiberality. */« is shameful too 
 to praise a person to his face, to praise his good 
 points up to the sky and gloss over his weaknesses, 
 or to display in his presence an exaggerated sym- 
 pathy with his griefs, and so on, all these being marks 
 of flattery. Or again to be unequal to the endurance 
 
 1 The four cases mentioned may perhaps be illustrated as fol- 
 lows: (1) to ask for a loan of money when you have often borrowed 
 money before and never repaid it, (2) to ask for it from one to 
 whom you have recently rendered some service, (3) to ask for the 
 repayment of a loan when it is not the time or place to ask for it, 
 (4) to praise a person's liberality until it is clear that what you 
 want is some pecuniar}- help from him. 
 
 '-* Omitting KoXaKtias. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 141 
 
 of such labours as have been borne by persons who 
 are our seniors or who live luxurious lives or who are 
 higher in authority or in general who are less robust ; 
 for all this is a sign of efleminacy. Or to receive 
 services from a neighbour and to receive them often 
 and then to cast one's own services to him in his 
 teeth, these being so many signs of a mean and 
 grovelling temper. Or to employ large and boastful 
 language about oneself and to take credit for the 
 good deeds of other people ; for this again is a sign 
 of arrogant assumption. And the same is true of the 
 results of every other vice of character, and of the 
 signs of it and resemblances to it; they are shame- 
 ful and provoke a feeling of shame. I may add 
 that it is shameful not to participate in the ad- 
 vantages in which all people or all one's own peers 
 or most of them participate, meaning by 'peers' one's 
 co-nationalists, fellow-citizens, contemporaries or 
 kinsfolk and generally all who stand on an equality 
 with us; for if they are one's equals, it is at once 
 shameful not to participate in the same advantages 
 with them, as e.g. not to receive equal educational 
 advantages, and so on. And in all these instances the 
 shame is the greater, if the defect is due^ppareritly to 
 oneself; for it necessarily appears to be the result 
 of vice rather than of any other cause, if one has 
 oneself alone to thank for one's defects past, present 
 or to come. ^ Again, we are ashamed of being or 
 having been or being likely to be subjected to such 
 things as tend to bring upon us dishonour and re- 
 proach, i.e. to actions which imply a subservience 
 
 1 Putting a full stop after fifWovrav, 
 
iT'i 
 
 HIT 
 
 142 THE RHETORIC [n. 
 
 of the person or a subservience in respect of shameful 
 deeds, among which I include wanton outrage. In 
 cases of incontinency this subservience is shameful, 
 whether it be voluntary or not '(involuntary subser- 
 vience being subservience under compulsion) as such 
 passive endurance and non-resistance is itself a result 
 of effeminacy or cowardice. 
 
 Such and similar to these are the things of which 
 we feel ashamed. But as shame is an impression 
 in regard to the loss of reputation, and this on its 
 own account without reference to its consequences, 
 and as nobody values reputation or good opinion 
 Persons exccpt for the sake of those who entertain it, it 
 afe^^go? follows that t he pepons before w hom we feel shame 
 * *^ areth ose whom we^iold insome esteem. This is the 
 case with people who admire us, or whom we admire, 
 or whose admiration we desire to win, or whose 
 rivals we are, or whose good opinion we do not 
 despise. Now we desire the admimtion of people, 
 and ourselves admire them, if they are in possession 
 of some good which confers distinction, or if we have 
 a strong desire of something of which they are masters, 
 as e.g. in the case of lovers. Again, the people whose 
 rivals we are are our peers, and the people whom we 
 esteem as authorities up(ni any qtwstion are persons 
 of practical wisdom i.e. persons advanced in life or 
 highly cultured. The shame we feel too is the greater 
 in proportion to the patency and notoriety of the 
 
 I Mr Cope's reading of the passage is an improvement: ko* 
 TO fi€v €ls aKoXaaiav icaX Uovra Ka\ oKovra (to d* tls ^iav aKovra) dno 
 avavdpias k.t.X. 
 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 143 
 
 IL] 
 
 facts ; whence the proverb which says that ' the eye is 
 the seat of modesty. It is for this reason that we 
 feel a greater shame before such persons as will con- 
 tinually be near us or as watch us closely ; for in both 
 cases there are eyes upon us. Or before persons who 
 are not liable to the same imputations as we are ; for 
 it is clear that their sentiments are opposed to our 
 own. Or who are not inclined to be indulgent to 
 apparent failings; for as a man is supposed not 
 to be indignant with his neighbours for doing what he 
 does himself, it is evident conversely that he is indig- 
 nant, if they do what he does not do himself Or who 
 are fond of spreading reports; for a fault may as 
 well not be suspected as suspected and not spread 
 abroad. The people who are likely to spread reports 
 are those who have been injured by us, as they are 
 always on the watch for their opportunity, and 
 slanderers, who will speak evil of the innocent and 
 therefore a fortiori of the guilty. Also we have a 
 feeling of shame before persons who devote themselves 
 to the study of their neighbours' faults, as e.g. satirists 
 and comic poets ; for these too are in a certain sense 
 slanderers and telltales. Or before persons in whose 
 presence we have never met with a failure, as to them 
 we may be said to be objects of admii-ation. This 
 is the reason why we have a feeling of shame in 
 refusing persons who ask a favour of us for the first 
 time, from the idea that we have never yet lost credit 
 
 1 It may be doubted whether Aristotle applies this proverbial 
 saying rightly, when he takes it to mean that, the more public or 
 visible a shameful deed is, the greater is the shame attaxjhing 
 to it 
 
 I I 
 
 '\\^ 
 
"^' 
 
 l« 
 
 144 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 in their eyes. It is the same with those who have 
 recently conceived a wish to be our friends; for it 
 is the best points only in our character that they 
 have observed, and hence the appropriateness of the 
 ^answer which Euripides made to the Syracusans. It 
 is the same too with old acquaintances who have no 
 knowledge of anything against us. Nor is it oidy of 
 the actual shameful things which have been men- 
 tioned that we are ashamed, but of anything that 
 is indicative of them, as e.g. of the indications of illicit 
 love no less than of the illicit love itself Nor is 
 it only of shameful deeds that we are ashamed but 
 of shameful words. Similarly it is not only the persons 
 above described of whom we feel shame, but those 
 too who will give them information, let us say e.g. 
 servants or their friends. Generally speaking however, 
 we do not feel shame before persons for whose 
 accuracy of judgment we entertain a great contempt — 
 nobody e.g. feels shame before children or animals — 
 nor again is it about the same things that we feel 
 shame before our own intimate acquaintances and 
 before strangers, but before the former it is about 
 
 1 The answer, as it is given by the Scholiast, has certainly the 
 air of an invention. Euripides (he says), being sent on an em- 
 bassy to Syracuse and finding that his efforts on behalf of peace 
 and friendship were unsuccessful, said " You ought, O Syracusans, 
 to respect our prayer and the homage we seem thus to pay you, if 
 for no other reason, yet because we have so recently begun to ask 
 favours of you." It is not however in itself improbable that Euri- 
 pides, who, as Plutarch relates, was a favourite poet in Sicily, may 
 have been sent to treat with the Syracusans for the ransom of the 
 captives after the disastrous expedition described in the Seventh 
 Book of Thucydides. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 145 
 
 II.] 
 
 such things as are considered to be really and truly 
 shameful and before the latter about things which are 
 shameful only conventionally. 
 
 The conditions under which we are likely to feel o?«iaS??' 
 shame are the following : Firstly, if there are certain 
 persons actually standing to us in the relation of 
 those before whom, as we said, we feel shame, i.e.^* 
 persons who are admired by us, or who admire us, 
 or whose admiration we wish to win, or at whose 
 hands we require a certain service which we shall 
 not obtain, if Ave lose credit in their eyes, and these 
 either actual spectators of our conduct (as in the 
 example of the harangue delivered by Cydias re- 
 specting the ' colonization of Samos, when he begged 
 the Athenians to imagine that all Greece was standing 
 around them as eyewitnesses of their votes and not 
 as mere hearers only after the event), or again if the 
 persons described are near at hand or are sure to 
 perceive what we do. This is the reason why in the 
 hour of our misfortune we do not wish to be seen by 
 those who were once our emulators, emulation being a 
 form of admiration. Another condition in ivJiich ive 
 feel shame is when we are conscious of achievements 
 and actions upon which we shall bring dishonour, 
 whether they be our own or those of our ancestors 
 or of others to whom we are intimately related, '^or 
 in general of those on whose behalf we ourselves, 
 
 * There were several occasions on which colonists (kXtjpovxoi) 
 were sent to Samos ; but nothing is known of Cydias or his speech. 
 As to the nature of KXripovxla see Mr Crete's History of Greece, 
 ch. xxxi. vol. IV. pp. 97 — 8. 
 
 2 Changing the full stop after dyx^rreia th to a comma. 
 
 W. R. . 10 
 
 V 
 
'I! I 
 1l 
 
 146 THE RHETORIC • [ll. 
 
 have feelings of shame, i.e. not only the persons 
 already described, but all who guide themselves by 
 tlie^ standard of our lives, whose teachers and coun- 
 sellors we have been, or other people, if such there 
 be, like ourselves, whose rivals we are ; for it is 
 from a consideration for them that a feeling of shame 
 often leads us to act or to abstain from acting. And 
 again we are liable to shame in a higher degree when 
 we are likely to be seen by the witnesses of our dis- 
 grace and to associate with them publicly. This was 
 the point of the remark made by the poet Antiphon 
 when he had been sentenced by Dionysius to be 
 bastinadoed to death and saw his fellow-victims 
 covering their faces on their way through the gates : 
 "What is the good of covering your faces?" he said, 
 "are you afraid of somebody here seeing you to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 So much then may be said respecting shame. 
 In regard to shamelessness on the other hand it is 
 evident that, if we choose tiie topics opposite to these, 
 we shall be at no loss for arguments. 
 Chap. VII The objects of 'benevolence, the occasions which 
 lenc?^"'''''' prompt it and the conditions under which it is felt 
 will be evident, when we have defined benevolence 
 itself. 
 
 It is benevolence, we may say, in virtue of which 
 the person in whom it resides is said to reiuter a 
 
 Definition 
 of benovo- 
 lenco. 
 
 1 It is necessary in tins chapter to observe that the single 
 word x»P^^ is used in three different senses, (1) benevolence, as a 
 disposition or, as Aristotle calls it, an emotion, (2) a benevolent 
 action, (3) the disposition created by benevolent actions, viz. grati- 
 tude. 
 
 ian.re- 
 
 IX.] OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 service to anybodyJiLtheJhioi^^ 
 
 turnTxn- previous services nor for any personal benefit / 
 
 to him who renders it but for the benefit of the-xa- b \ i^ ^ 
 cipient alone. Further, the service is a great one, if ^£^^9^^ 
 the need of it is extreme, or if its results are great bene^vo- 
 and difficult of attainment, or if it is done at a crisis 
 which is great and difficult, or if this is the only or 
 the first or the greatest occasion of its being done. 
 
 All our natural impulses are needs, especially 
 those which are attended with pain, unless gratified, 
 as e.g. 'our desires, such as love 'and others which are 
 incident to times of physical suffering and peril; 
 for desire is felt by anyone in danger or in pain. 
 Hence it is that tliose who stand by us in poverty 
 and exile, although the service which they have ren- 
 dered us be a trifling one, yet from the magnitude 
 of our need and the critical occasion are our bene- 
 factors, like 'the man who lent the mat in the 
 Lyceum. It follows then that the service rendered 
 must have reference, if possible. Ho these points, 
 ivhlch enhance its value, and, if not, to others of 
 equal or greater importance. As it is evident there- 
 fore what are the occasions and causes of benevolence 
 
 1 oi (mOvfiiai should of course bo ai imOviilai,. 
 
 '^ The stop after epwr should be changed to a comma. 
 
 3 The Scholiast has a story of a man being shut up in a tower 
 and another who passed by throwing him a mat, so that he could 
 let himself down and escape. But it is a story apparently made 
 to suit the text. The allusion cannot now be explained. 
 
 ^ Reading els ravra I agree with Bonitz {Indeu; Aristotelicus, 
 8. V. tx^Lv) in taking r^v vnovpyiav as the subject of exnv and els 
 raOra l^"'' as a Single phrase meaning "to be directed to these 
 
 ends." 
 
 10—2 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 • i 
 
 i 
 
 
.1 1 
 
 Means of 
 disparaging 
 benevo- 
 lence. 
 
 
 148 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 and the usual conditions under which we feel it, it 
 i s clear that these are the materials wliich wg p ii^ist 
 e mploy in trying Ho work upon the feelings qf oii^ 
 nudj^lf/i; wf> uTu st show that the person benefited 
 eiHier is or has been in such want or pain as has 
 been described and on the other hand that the bene- 
 factor has done or is doing such a service in such 
 circumstances of need. Nor is it le ss evident how to 
 roba jeM of its benev olence an^ to representees' 
 auffiSs as anything but benevolent, by urging that 
 it is for purely selfish motives (which exclude bene- 
 volence) that the service is or was rendered, or 
 that it was the result of accident or strong compul- 
 sion, or that it was a repayment of past services and 
 not a free gift, whether its authors were aware of 
 this or not ; for in either case it w^as only a return 
 and consequently still not an act of pure benevo- 
 lence. And in examining a benevolent action we 
 must consider it in regard to all the * categories ; for 
 it is such, either as being a particular thing or as 
 having a particular magnitude or character or as 
 being done at a particular time or in a particular 
 place. We infer the absence of a benevolent inten- 
 tion in a kind deed, if the person has refused to 
 render us a smaller service or has rendered the same 
 or an equal or greater service to our enemies ; for 
 in this case again it is evident that the deed was 
 
 ^ I take irapaa-KtvaaTfou in the sense of "working upon" or "in- 
 fluencing " an audience. Cp. the use of napaaKevdCeiv, p. 61, 1. 22, 
 p. 66, 1. 17, p. 76, 1. 16. Aristotle uses KaTa(TK€vd{^€iv in the same 
 sense, e.g. p. 54, 1. 23, p. 59, 1. 20. 
 
 2 The ten Categories are enumerated Kanyyopi'at, ch. 4. 
 
 jjl OF ARISTOTLE. 1^^ 
 
 not done from disinterested motives. We have the 
 same feeling, if it was valueless and the author knew 
 it to be so ; for nobody admits that he wants what is 
 
 valueless. 
 
 Having now described benevolence and its oppo- ch^pjui. 
 
 site, we may proceed to consider the things which passion. 
 excite compassion, the objects of compassion and the 
 conditions under which we feel it. 
 
 Coiaaafisioa may be defined as a sort of pain at reanitio,, 
 an evident evil of a destructive or painful kind in the s,o„. 
 case of somebody who does not deserve it, the_evil 
 being one to which we may naturally expect our- 
 selrc^^or^iome one of our own friends to be Imble, 
 and this at a time when it appears to be near at 
 hand • for it is plain that a person who is to be conditions 
 capable of compassion must be so constituted as to s.on. 
 regard himself or some one of his friends as Uable to 
 suffering evil of some kind, and not only to evil in 
 (lie abstract hut to such evil as has been stated in the 
 definition or such as is similar or comparable to it. 
 Hence it is that compassion is not felt by those who 
 are absolutely ruined— for they regard themselves as 
 incapable of further suffering, their own sufferings 
 being already past-nor again by those who believe 
 in their own supreme felicity, and who are not eom- 
 passionate but rather insolent ; for if they suppose 
 themselves to be in the enjoyment of all possib e 
 goods, it is clear that exemption from the possibility 
 of any evil, as being itself a good, will be among the 
 number. The people who would naturally regard 
 themselves as liable to' suffering are those who have 
 already experienced suffering and^ survived it^ or 
 
I 
 
 .III 
 
 tM^I 
 
 150 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 those wlio are somewhat advanced in years, as they 
 possess both sagacity and experience, or those who 
 are physimlbj weak or who are especially inclined to 
 be timid or who are well-informed and therefore able 
 to calculate probabilities. The same is true of people 
 who have parents or children or wives living, as tliese 
 are all parts of a man's self and are liable to sucli 
 sufferings as have been mentioned. It is true too of 
 those who are not in any such emotional state as 
 engenders courage, e.g. anger or confidence (for these 
 are states which are Avholly reckless of the future), 
 nor in an insolent disposition of mind (as people who 
 are insolent are equally reckless of future suflering), 
 but who are in an intermediate condition ; *and wlio 
 on the other hand are not in a state of vehement 
 fear; for there is no feeling of compassion in people 
 who are terror-stricken, as they think of nothing but 
 their own emotion. Again, it is necessary to the 
 feeling of compassion that we should believe in the 
 existence of human virtue ; for he who does not be- 
 lieve in anybody's virtue will consitler that everybody 
 is deserving of evil. It is in a word a general rule that a 
 person is liable to compassion, whenever he is in con- 
 dition to recall similar events as having happened 
 either to himself or to any of his friends or to anti- 
 cipate the possibility of their happening either to 
 himself or to any of his friends. 
 Causes of Such thcu being the conditions under which we 
 
 cx)uipassion. ^^^^ compassiou, the objects of compassion are evident 
 from the definition. They are all such painful and 
 
 1 Placing only a comma after rovridv, as the grammatical con- 
 struction, like the sense, is unbroken. 
 
 n.] 
 
 OP ARISTOTLE. 
 
 151 
 
 distressing things as are destructive and ruinous, and 
 all such evils as are produced by Fortune, if they are 
 serious. By things painful and destructive I mean 
 death in its various fomis, bodily injuries and afflic- 
 tions, old age, disease and want of food ; by the evils 
 of Fortune the absolute lack or the scarcity ot 
 friends (and it follows that the separation from 
 friends and intimate acquaintances excites compas- 
 sion), physical deformity, constitutional weakness and 
 bodily mutilation. Another thing which excites com- 
 passion is the occurrence, and still rmrc t^ie frequent 
 iecurrence, of an evil result from something which 
 naturally might have been expected to lead to good. 
 Another is the attainment of some good, when all is 
 over with the person to whom it comes as e^. the 
 present sent from the Great King to Diopeithes at 
 Ihe time when he was already lying dcatl. Another is 
 the utter failure either to attain anythmg good or, 
 when it is attained, to enjoy it. 
 
 Such then and similar to these being the causes ^^ects of _ 
 which excite compassion, the persons who are the 
 objects of compassionate feeling are our fami bar 
 friends, unless indeed they are very closely related to 
 us, for then our feeling for them is much the same as 
 it would be for ourselves in imminent peril. It w'us 
 thus that 'Amasis, while he shed no tears, as the 
 . The incident is unknown; for the story which the Schol.ast 
 
 ^^''t '^^SyTstld'bt Herodotus Bk. iii. ch. U, but the pe.o„ 
 
 ..f 2:TLu it is 1 Amasis but his ^^^''^^JZ^^S^ 
 It is possible that Aristotle in the words o,. f ''>''; ""'^'f^'^^ 
 specially to Herodotus. It is more l.kely however that he has 
 
 made a slip of memory. 
 
 ):| 
 
 1^ 
 
II 
 
 l> 
 
 152 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 story goes, when his son was led away to execution, 
 wept when his friend asked an alms of him, the reason 
 being that, while the latter spectacle moved him to 
 compassion, the former moved him only to terror ; for 
 the motive cause of terror is not only distinct from 
 that of compassion but is calculated to expel com- 
 passionate feelings and even serves in many cases to 
 arouse its opposites. ^ Again, we experience a feeling 
 of compassion, when the danger ivhich threatens others 
 approaches ourselves. We comimssionate those who 
 are like ourselves in age, diameter, habit of mind, 
 reputation or family, as in all these cases there ap- 
 pears to be a greater probability of the same mis- 
 fortune happening to ourselves as to them; for in 
 regard to compassion again it is a general principle 
 to be observed that \ vhatever moves us to fear, when it 
 a ffects ourselves, moveg^ us to cojoap aggion, when it 
 affects other people. And as sufferings^re objects of 
 compassion if they are apparently close at hand, 
 M hereas, if they occurred ten thousand years ago or 
 will occur ten thousand years hence, the anticipation 
 or remembrance of them, as the case may be, either 
 excites no compassion at all in us or excites it in a 
 much smaller degree, it necessarily follows th at oratora 
 re more successful in arousing c ompassion, if they 
 
 ^ Such must apparently be the meaning, if the text is right; 
 cp. p. 72, 1. 4. But Vahlen has some reason for suggesting that it 
 should be oC yap en iXtoixriv eyyvs avTo7s rov Sdvov uirros. Cp. p. 73, 
 1. 8. Aristotle's view is that evil is apt to excite compassion, 
 when it comes near us ; but if it comes too near, if it attacks our 
 intimate friends or kinsfolk, the compassion is changed into 
 terror. 
 
 n.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 153 
 
 aid th e effect of theiiMVor dsJjU heir Rcstures, tone s, 
 h-Rbitoeuts and d^^i^c^on^of any kind ; forby 
 sittnig-Sr^^irbdbii^ur very eyes, Avhether as fiitoe 
 oFTTpSit, they grve-iTiTappearance ot proximity. 
 E^iHtOTiTicenrpSTSF of tlie near future excite 
 a higher degree of compassion for the same reason. 
 Again, amo,^ tU clenunts o/compassmu *« « J^ « 
 toJrUion the visible signs of a tragic event or the 
 vivid representation of a perimis actions, as e.g. the 
 dies and othersuchjreli^^fjhg suffere.^ orUTe 
 
 ^Sther such characteristics of people 
 
 (A^-vC^^^ 
 
 I 
 
 in the hour of their suffering, as e.g. in the myjiour 
 of death. But the most powerful of all such element 
 is a noble demeanour of the sufferer in these critical 
 moments. For all these circumstances increase the 
 compassionate feeling from the apparent pr™ty of 
 the evil to ourselves, from the impression that it was 
 undeserved by the sufferer and from the vmd repre- 
 sentation of it before our eyes. 
 
 The proper correlative of compassion is what is 
 called virtuous indignation. For the feeling of pain 
 at unmeritedj;o8Eerito8Jn_jome sense opposed to 
 
 p;:ceeds from L same character. Ali^oth to 
 emotions are proper to a virtuous character ; for it 
 Tright not only to be sympathetic and compas- 
 sionate in cases of undeserved misfortune but to be 
 virtuously indignant in cases of undeserved pros- 
 perUy, as any violation of the principle of desert is 
 
 1 Probably the words «a. r« ^pi|"f should be placed before 
 Kat \6yovi 1. 29. 
 
 
 ',' 
 
 Chap. IX. 
 
 (11) Vir- 
 tuous indig- 
 nation. 
 
r/ 
 
 n *i. 
 
 ji 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 41 
 
 154 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 an injustice. * Accordingly we attribute a feeling of 
 Stween""" virtuous indignatiou even to the Gods. It may be 
 rridignauon ^upposcd that cuvy too is in the same sense opposite 
 and envy, to compassiouatc fccling, as being closely connected 
 and indeed identical with virtuous indignation ; but 
 really it is different, as although envy, no less than 
 virtuous indignation, is a pain which causes perturba- 
 tion and is felt in reference to another's prosperity, yet 
 it is not now the prosperity of someone who is 
 undeserving but of someone equal and similar to 
 ourselves. 'That the feeling is wholly disinterested 
 and arises solely from the circumstances of our neigh- 
 bour is a necessary and equally essential feature of 
 both these emotions ; for the one will cease to be 
 virtuous indignation and the other to be envy, and, 
 Instead of being snch, eacli of them will be merely 
 fear, if the ground of the actual pain and pertur- 
 bation is the expectation that some evil consequence 
 to ourselves will result from the prosperity of the 
 other. It is clear too that these emotions will be 
 attended by their opposites. A person who feels pain 
 at unmerited misfortune will feel pleasure or at least 
 will not feel any pain at misfortune when it has been 
 merited; thus jio virtu ous person will feel any pain 
 wheTLjumJahgi ent falls up on parrici des or mu r dft^g ra^ 
 as it is our duty to rejoice at such cases, and similarly 
 at cases of merited prosperity ; for both are agreeable 
 to justice and fill the heart of a good man with 
 
 * Tliere should be a full stop or a colon after yiyvo^fvov. 
 
 2 The sentence, if fully expressed, would run, to ht fxrj Xvirel- 
 (r$ai vTi avT^ ri (rvfi^ija^Tai €T€pov *c.r.X., i.e. literally "the not being 
 grieved because of some evil that will happen to oneself." 
 
 "•] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE: 
 
 1 ^ " 
 
 loo 
 
 joy in the hope, which he naturally feels, that what 
 has happened to one who resembles him may equally 
 happen to himself. Fuilher, »all these feelings are 
 proper to the same character, and the opposite 
 feelino^s to the opposite character ; for a person who 
 is envious will also be malicious as, if he feels pain Malice. 
 at the acquisition or possession of a thing by anotJier, 
 he will by a necessary consequence feel pleasure 
 at the denial or destruction of it. Accordingly these 
 feelings, vh, vlrtiwus indignatwn^ envji mdm9^}ce, 
 while they have^SlTaTenttenrrto prevent compassion, 
 are different for the reasons already assigned and 
 inconsecmence may all alik ebe serviceable asmeans 
 ^^fTl^^i^^ngThT Sompa^^ aspect of thnigs. 
 
 ' Let us then consider first tUe leeimg ot virtuous 
 indignation, the persons against whom it is directed, 
 the occasions which excite it and the conditions 
 under which we are subject to it, and proceed after- 
 wards to the other emotions. 
 
 But the truth is evident from what has been Deamtion^ 
 already said ; for if virtuous indignation is a feeling indignation. 
 of pain at such prosperity as is apparently unmerited, 
 it is clear in the first place that it is impossible to objects^of 
 feel such indignation at goods of every kind indis- indignation. 
 criminately. It is not for being just or courageous 
 or for acquiring virtue that one will feel a righteous 
 indignation against a person, as neither are com- 
 passionate feelings excited by the opposites of justice, 
 courage and virtue, but on account of wealth, power 
 
 1 "All these feelings," i.e. pleasure at (1) merited good fortune, 
 (2) merited ill fortune, and vexation at (1) unmerited good fortune, 
 (2) unmerited ill fortune. 
 
 t « 
 
 I! 
 
156 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 I 
 
 
 [It. 
 
 and the like, and indeed in general terms of all such 
 things as are properly due to those who are morally 
 good and who are in possession of the goods of 
 nature, i.e. of nobility, beauty and the like. And 
 as antiquity of possession seems to approximate to 
 natural right, it follows that, where two persons 
 are in possession of the same good, the indignation 
 felt is the greater in the case of one who has recently 
 acquired it and who is prosperous in consequence 
 of the acquisition ; for gieater annoyance is caused 
 to us by the nowveaiix riches than by persons of 
 ancient and hereditary wealth. The same may be 
 said too of official status, power, a numerous clientele, 
 a good and beautiful family and the like. Nor is 
 it otherwise with any other good which may accrue 
 to persons in consequence of these ; for here again 
 it is the nouveaux riches in the enjoyment of an 
 official position which they owe to their wealth who are 
 a greater source of annoyance to us than members of 
 the old substantial families. It is the same again in 
 all other cases. The reason is that the old proprietors 
 seem to possess what is theirs by right, and the others 
 do not ; for the appearance of perpetuity has an air 
 of reality, so that the nouveaux riches look as though 
 they were usurpers. Again, each particular kind 
 of good is not appropriate to all persons indiscrimi- 
 nately, but there is a certain correspondence and 
 propriety, fine armour e.g. being appropriate not to 
 the just man but rather to the bmve, and grand 
 alliances not so much to the nouveaux riches as to 
 members of the genuine aristocracy. ^Accordingly 
 
 ^ Mr Cope is clearly right in regarding the protasis, which has 
 
 P;4 
 
 "•] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 157 
 
 it is a cause of virtuous indignation that a person, 
 if his character stands high, should fail of his ap- 
 propriate reward, or that an inferior should compete 
 with one who is superior to him, 'especially when the 
 comparison is made on ground common to both ; 
 whence the saying of Homer tJiat Cehriones 
 
 » " Shunned the good sword of Tclamonian Aias ; 
 
 For Zeus was wroth with whoso combated 
 
 Against a braver hero," 
 but in a less degree whatever be the point of in- 
 feriority, as e.g. if a musician enters into competition 
 with a just man, inasmuch as justice is a better thing 
 
 than music. 
 
 The persons against whom we feel righteous 
 indignation and the causes of it are now evident ; for 
 they are such as have been described or very similar. 
 
 Passing to the conditions, we are disposed to Conditions 
 this indignation, if it is the case that we deserve the mdignat^on. 
 greatest goods and actually possess them, as there 
 Ts something unjust in the promotion of persons who 
 are unlike ourselves and inferior to us to the like 
 advantages. 'A second condition is when we are 
 
 been broken by the intervening examples, as resumed in the words 
 ^hu oZv dyadhs: cS. K.r.X. But it seems better to break up the sen- 
 tence in translating. 
 
 1 A bad musician competing with a good one would be an 
 instance of a comparison made "on ground common to both (.,. 
 r« auVoi) ; a musician competing with a just man would be a com- 
 
 parison of another kind. . 
 
 2 Iliad xi. 542. The second line does not occur m the received 
 
 text of Homer. , ^ ^. 
 
 3 It is not quite ea^y to distinguish the second case from the 
 first : hence Muretus proposed to insert m before Tvyx«»'"^*»'- ^^^ 
 
 II 
 
 i 
 
 11 
 
I 
 
 11 \ 
 
 li 
 
 158 THE RHETORIC [n. 
 
 good and virtuous persons ; for then we are good 
 judges and haters of injustice. A third, when we are 
 ambitious and eagerly desirous of particular functions, 
 and especially if our ambition directs itself to certain 
 objects of which others, who attain them, are un- 
 worthy. It is indeed a general rule that, if we con- 
 sider ourselves to be worthy of particular things and 
 others to be unworthy of them, we are liable to feel 
 a virtuous indignation against them and to feel it 
 on account of these things. And from this it follows 
 that slavish, mean and unambitious natures are not 
 subject to virtuous indignation, as there is nothing 
 of which they consider themselves to be worthy. 
 
 From all this it is evident what are the cases of 
 misfortune, disaster or failure in which it is proper 
 to rejoice or at least to feel no pain ; for from the 
 conditions which have been described the opposite 
 conditions are manifest, and the result is that, if 
 the speech which is delivered produces a proper 
 frame of mind in the judges who hear it and proves 
 that those who claim compassion on certain specified 
 grounds do not deserve to obtain it or even deserve 
 not to obtain it, in such case the feeling of compas- 
 sion becomes impossible. 
 Chap. X. Xor Is it difficult to see what are the occasions 
 MnfuoT ^^^^ objects of envy and the conditions under which 
 we feel envious, envy being defined as a species of 
 
 in the first case the ground of indignation is, I think, that 
 others, who are less deserving than we are, are promoted to an 
 equality with us; in the second it is that others are promoted to 
 advantages whicli they do not deserve, whether we ourselves en- 
 joy them or not. 
 
 of envy. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 159 
 
 11.] 
 
 pain felt at conspicuous prosperity on the part of 
 persons like ourselves in respect of such goods as 
 have been already described, and this not with any 
 view to our own personal advantage but solelt/ be- 
 cause they are prosperous. 
 
 For people will be envious, if there are or if they conditions 
 think there are persons like themselves, like, I mean, 
 in race, family, age, habit of mind, reputation or 
 possessions. Or if they only just fall short of haying 
 everything ivhich mm can desire; hence the envious 
 disposition of persons who are engaged in important 
 affkii-s or who are highly prosperous, as they fancy 
 all the world is robbing them of their due. Or again 
 if they have a permanent reputation for something, 
 and especially for wisdom or happiness. Ambitious 
 persons too are more liable to envy than the un- 
 ambitious. Pretenders to wisdom are envious, as 
 being ambitious of the credit of wisdom ; and in 
 general persons who are eager for reputation in a 
 particular subject are envious in regard to it. Lastly, 
 mean-minded persons are envious ; for everything 
 appeai-8 important to them. 
 
 As regards the occasions of envy, the goods which causes of 
 provoke it have been already stated ; for all achieve- 
 ments or possessions of which we covet the reputa- 
 tion or are ambitious, all things which arouse in us a 
 longing for reputation, as well as all the various gifts 
 of Fortune are practically without exception natural 
 objects of envy, and of these such especially as we 
 ourselves either desire or imagine we have a right 
 to possess, or as by their acquisition confer a slight 
 superiority or inferiority. 
 
 /; 
 
m i 
 
 160 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 Olyects of 
 envy. 
 
 I 
 
 \i\ 
 
 [II. 
 
 It is clear too who are the natural objects of envy, 
 as they are implied in the statement which has just 
 been made ; they are persons who are near to us 
 in time, place, age or reputation. Hence the saying 
 
 1 *' For to be kin is to be envious." 
 
 We are envious too of people whom we are ambitious 
 of rivalling, i.e. of such people as have been men- 
 tioned, but not of those who lived many ages ago 
 or who are yet unborn or dead or ''at the ends of 
 the world. Nor again, where there are people to 
 whom we think we are far inferior or far superior, 
 whether we depend upon our own opinion only or 
 upon that of the world at large, have we the same 
 feeling of rivalry in regard to them and in cases 
 like theirs. But as this rivalry extends to those who 
 are our antagonists in any competition or in love 
 and indeed to all who aspire to the same things 
 as ourselves, these will necessarily be the principal 
 objects of envy ; Avhence the proverb " Two of a 
 trade never agree." Again, we are envious of people 
 who have attained a rapid success, if we have suc- 
 ceeded with difficulty or have not succeeded at all. 
 Or of people whose possession of a thing or whose 
 success is a reproach to us, such people again being 
 near and similar to ourselves ; for as it is evidently 
 •our own fault that we fail to obtain the good which 
 they obtain, it is the annoyance of this fact which 
 
 1 A line attributed by the Scholiast to .Eschylus. 
 
 » The pillars of Hercules were in the Greek view the bounds 
 of the known world. 
 
 2 Reading Trap* avrovs. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 161 
 
 n.] 
 
 produces in us the feeling of envy. Or again of 
 people who either naturally or by acquisition possess 
 anythingjwHpiL-Jiaturally _^^ to us or had 
 
 beeiTacquired by us ; this is the reason why seniors 
 are~envious of "their juniors. Lastly, people who 
 have spent a large sum upon a particular thing are 
 envious of those who have spent little upon it with 
 an equal result. 
 
 We see now clearly Hhe occasions upon which 
 envious people experience a feeling of pleasure, the 
 persons whose cases give rise to such a feeling and 
 the conditions under which people experience it; 
 «for, whatever be the conditions the absence of which 
 produces pain at certain things, their presence will 
 produce pleasure at the opposite things. Hence if 
 the audie n ce has been brought to an envi ous con - 
 dition ormind a nd the persons on whose behalf a 
 claim to compassion or to good of any kind is^ad- 
 vanced are_^ch as have been described, ix. proper 
 objects o f en vih it is evi dent that the^JsaUnotjaeet 
 with compaasioaat th e hands o f those who are masters 
 
 of the position. 
 
 The conditions of emidation, its causes and the chap.xi. 
 persons who are the objects of it are evident from {S. 
 the following considerations. 
 
 1 Reading €0* oiy, the oh being neuter. 
 
 ^ Upon the whole, although not without a good deal of uncer- 
 tainty, I have retained the ovk before €X'^vt€s. Aristotle's mean- 
 ing seems to be this : that, if there are certain conditions which 
 excite pain in the bosom of the envious man, then the opposite 
 conditions will excite pleasure in it, and that, while the cause of 
 the pain is the good fortune of people like himself, the cause of 
 
 W. R. 11 
 
162 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 Definition of 
 emulation. 
 
 Conditions 
 of emula- 
 tion. 
 
 Ill 
 
 h 
 
 I 
 
 [n. 
 
 Emulation is a species of pain at the manifest 
 presence of such goods as are valued highly and 
 also attainable by ourselves in persons who have 
 a natural resemblance to us, and this not because 
 somebody else is in possession of them but because 
 we are not equally in possession of them ourselves. 
 ^Accordingly emulation is a virtuous emotion, and 
 its subjects are virtuous, whereas envy is vicious, and 
 its subjects vicious ; for wj iile the emulous man is 
 induced by his emulation to contrive that he himself 
 sh ouir acquire these goo ds, the envious man is in- 
 duced by his envy to contrive that his neighbour 
 
 them.) IFTbllows at once tKen 
 
 not^fiiyo 
 
 that people are inclined to emulation, if they con- 
 sider themselves entitled to goods which they do 
 not actually enjoy, provided of course that tliese 
 goods are attainable by them, for nobody sup- 
 poses himself to be entitled to such goods as are 
 evidently impossible. This is the ground of emu- 
 lation in the young and the highminded. It is the 
 same in persons who possess such goods as are 
 appropriate to people who are held in honour, i.e. 
 wealth, a large circle of friends, official positions 
 and so on; for it is from the feeling that they 
 have a natural claim to goodness, as possessing the 
 things which, as we have seen, naturally belong to 
 the good, that they emulously claim such goods as 
 are the marks of honour. It is the same too in 
 
 the pleasure will be the opposite of it, viz. the ill-fortune of people 
 like himself. 
 
 1 The sentence enclosed in brackets is parenthetical The 
 apodosis begins at the words dpayKT) drj (tjXodtikovs fiiv eivcu. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 163 
 
 n.] ' 
 
 persons who are regarded by the world at large as 
 entitled to these goods. Again, if there is any par- 
 ticular thing for which our ancestors or kinsmen or 
 friends or race or nation have been held in honour, it 
 is a subject upon which we are disposed to emula- 
 tion, thinking that it is proper to ourselves and that 
 we have a title to it. 
 
 If then it is such goods as are held in honour 
 which are the objects of emulation, it follows that 
 this is true of the virtues and of all things which 
 are serviceable and beneficial to the world at large, 
 as we hold our benefactors and good men generally 
 in honour, *and also of all goods from which our 
 neighbours derive enjoyment, such as wealth and 
 personal beauty rather than health. 
 
 It is evident also who are the objects of emula- 
 tion. They are persons who are in possession of 
 these or similar advantages, e.g. valour, wisdom, and 
 official power ; for a great opportunity of beneficence 
 is open to persons in power, such as generals, orators 
 and all who have influential positions of a similar 
 kind. Or again they are persons who are widely 
 looked upon as models or as desirable acquaintances 
 and friends or who are objects of admiration to the 
 world at large or to ourselves or whose eulogies and 
 panegyrics are pronounced by poets and orators. 
 
 The objects of contempt are the opposites of 
 these, contempt being the antithesis of emulation, 
 and a contemptuous mood of an emulous one. It 
 follows that those who are in a condition to emulate 
 others or to be themselves the objects of emulation, 
 * Reading only a colon after dyaBovs. 
 
 11—2 
 
 Causes of 
 emulation. 
 
 
 Objects of 
 emulation. 
 
 (14) Con- 
 tempt. 
 
 Conditions 
 of con- 
 tempt. 
 

 i 
 
 I i 
 
 Hi 
 
 ill 
 
 f 
 
 (>>_f^t.w.-^ U-^- *' ^^— ^^ ^^"-^ -^'^— ^^£- 
 
 164 THE RHETORIC [h. 
 
 will be so far inclined to contemn those who are 
 subject to such evils as are contrary to the goods 
 which provoke emulation. And hence we often con- 
 temn fortunate people, when their Fortune is un- 
 attended by such goods as are held in honour. 
 
 S/^jYinnVi f,[|fn fnr t}|ft mpiina of creati ng and diss i- 
 pating the emotions, these means be^ig ^^^ ggnrcea 
 of ar^mentative proofs respecting the m. 
 Chap. XII. It remains for us to describe the varieties of cha- 
 dSJSr.^' racter dependent upon the emotions, habits of mind, 
 times of life and accidents of Fortune, meaning by 
 "emotions" anger, desire and the like, which have 
 been already discussed, and by " habits of mind" vir- 
 tues and vices ; these too have been already discussed 
 as well as the objects of individual choice and action. 
 The "times of life" are youth, the prime of life and 
 age. And by "Fortune" I mean nobility, wealth, 
 power in any of its forms and the opposites of these 
 and indeed any kind of prosperity or adversity. 
 
 The young are in character prone to desire and 
 ready to carry any desire they may have formed into 
 action. Of bodily desires it is the sexual to which 
 they are most disposed to give way, and in regard to 
 sexual desire they exercise no self-restraint. They 
 are changeful too and fickle in their desires, which 
 are as transitory as they are vehement; for their 
 wishes are keen without being permanent, like a sick 
 man's fits of hunger and thirst They are passionate, 
 irascible and apt to be carried away by their impulses. 
 They are the slaves too of their passion, as their am- 
 bition prevents their ever brooking a slight and ren- 
 ders them indignant at the mere idea of enduring an 
 
 pp. 60, 61. 
 
 The cha- 
 racter of 
 youth. 
 
 / 
 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 165 
 
 II.] 
 
 injury. And while they are fond of honour, they are 
 fonder still of victory ; for superiority is the object of 
 youthful desire, and victory is a species of superiority. 
 Again, they are fonder both of honour and of victory 
 than of money, the reason why they care so little for 
 money being that they have never yet had experience 
 of want, as Hhe saying of Pittacus about Amphiaraus 
 puts it They are charitable rather than the reverse, 
 as they have never yet been witnesses of many vil- 
 lainies ; and they are trustful, as they have not yet been 
 often deceived. They are sanguine too ; for the young 
 are heated by Nature as drunken men by wine, not to 
 say that they have not yet experienced frequent fail- 
 ures. Their lives are lived principally in hope, as hope 
 is of the future and memory of the past, and while the 
 future of youth is long, its past is short ; for on the 
 first day of life it is impossible to remember anything, 
 but all things must be matters of hope. For the same 
 reason they are easily deceived, as being quick to hope. 
 They are inclined to be valorous ; for they are full of 
 passion, which excludes fear, and of hope, which in- 
 spires confidence, as anger is incompatible with fear, 
 and the hope of something good is itself a source of 
 confidence. They are bashful too, having as yet no 
 independent standard of honour and having lived en- 
 tirely in the school of conventional law. They have 
 high aspirations ; for they have never yet been humi- 
 liated by the experience of life, but are unacquainted 
 with the limiting force of circumstances ; and a great 
 idea of one's own deserts, such as is characteristic of a 
 sanguine disposition, is itself a form of high aspiration. 
 
 1 The saying is unknown. 
 
 ii 
 
 ^ 
 
i, 
 
 
 \l 
 
 i 
 
 166 THE RHETORIC [h. 
 
 Again, in their actions they prefer honour to expedi- 
 ency, as it is habit rather than calculation which is 
 the rule of their lives, and, while calculation pays re- 
 gard to expediency, virtue pays regard exdusivdy to 
 honour. Youth is the age when people are most devoted 
 to their friends or relations or companions, as they are 
 then extremely fond of social intercourse and have 
 not yet learnt to judge their friends or indeed any- 
 thing else by the rule of expediency. If the young 
 commit a fault, it is always on the side of excess and 
 exaggeration in defiance of * Chilon's maxim ; for they 
 carry everything too far, whether it be their love or 
 hatred or anything else. They regard themselves as 
 omniscient and are positive in their assertions; this 
 is in fact the reason of their carrying everything too 
 far. Also their oflfences take the line of insolence and 
 not of meanness. They are compassionate from sup- 
 posing all people to be virtuous or at least better 
 than they really are; for as they estimate their neigh- 
 bours by their own guilelessness, they regard the evils 
 which befall them as undeserved. Finally, they are 
 fond of laughter and consequently facetious, facetious- 
 ness being disciplined insolence. 
 Chap. XIII. Such being the character of the young, it may be 
 ^tOTof ^^ generally that elder men who have passed their 
 ^^' prime have characters mostly composed of the quali- 
 
 ties opposite to these. For as they have lived many 
 years and have been often the victims of deception 
 and error, and as vice is the rule rather than the ex- 
 ception in human affairs, they are never positive about 
 
 ^ The maxim of ChiloD is the famous rule /ii^deV &yav. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 167 
 
 IL] 
 
 anything and always err on the side of too* little excess. 
 Tliey "suppose," they never "know" anything; and in 
 discussion they always add "perhaps" or "possibly," 
 expressing themselves invariably in this guarded man- 
 ner, but never positively. They are uncharitable too, 
 i.e. they are ready to put the worst construction upon 
 everything. Again, they are suspicious of evil from 
 not trusting anybody, and they do not trust anybody 
 from having had experience of human wickedness. 
 Hence too they have no strong loves or hatreds ; but 
 according to the 'precept of Bias their love is such as 
 may some day be converted into hatred and their 
 hatred such as may some day be converted into love. 
 Their temper of mind is neither grand nor generous ; 
 not the former, for they have been so much humiliated 
 by the experience of life as to have no desire of any 
 great or striking object or of anything but the mere 
 appliances of life ; nor the latter, for property is a 
 necessity of life, and they have learnt by experience 
 the difficulty of acquiring it and the facility with 
 which it may be lost. They are cowards and per- 
 petual alarmists, their disposition being exactly con- 
 trary to that of the young ; for as they are not fervent 
 like the young, but have cooled down, their old age 
 has in consequence paved the way for cowardice, fear 
 
 1 The curious phrase rirrov ayav is an oxymoron; but it is 
 coined to be a negative of ayav. 
 
 * The precept of Bias, which is again quoted in ch. 21, is best 
 known from the lines of Sophocles, 4/«^, 678—683. It may be 
 remarked that Ajax was eminently one who had been brought to 
 his cautious or distrustful mood by his sad experience of human 
 life. 
 
168 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 n 
 
 «l 
 
 I 
 
 [n. 
 
 itself being a sort of cooling process. They are fond 
 of life, and never so fond of it as on their last day ; for 
 it is the absent which is the object of all desire, and 
 that which we most lack we are most desirous to pos- 
 sess. They are selfish to a fault, selfishness again 
 being a species of mean-mindedness. And from their 
 selfishness it follows that their standard of life is too 
 apt to be expediency rather than honour; for expe- 
 diency is what is good to the individual, and honour 
 what is good in an absolute sense. They are apt 
 to be shameless rather than the contrary ; for as they 
 pay less regard to honour than to expediency, they 
 are able to disregard appearances. They are despond- 
 ent too partly from their experience of life— for the 
 generality of things which occur in the world are bad 
 or at least do not turn out so well as they might— and 
 partly from their cowardly disposition. Again, they 
 live by memory rather than by hope ; for while the 
 remainder of their life is necessarily short, its past is 
 long, and the future is the sphere of hope, the past 
 the sphere of memory. This too is the explanation of 
 their garrulity; they are peqietually talkhig over 
 what has happened in the past because of the pleasure 
 they feel in recollection. Their fits of passion, although 
 violent, are feeble ; their sensual desires have either 
 died away or become enfeebled, so that they are not 
 prone either to desire or to action regulated by their 
 desires but are rather guided in their actions by self- 
 interest. The consequence is that people at this time 
 of life are capable of self-control, as the strength 
 of their desires has abated and self-interest is their 
 mastering passion. Again, it is calculation rather 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 169 
 
 XL] 
 
 than character which regulates their lives ; for while 
 calculation is directed to expediency, morality is 
 directed to virtue as its end. The offences which 
 they commit take the line of petty meanness rather 
 than of insolence. The old are compassionate as well 
 as the young, not however for the same reason ; for 
 in the one case the reason is humanity, and in the 
 other infirmity, as the old suppose all manner of suf- 
 fering to be at their door, and this is a state of mind 
 which, as we have said, excites compassion. Hence p- isa. 
 they are querulous, not facetious nor fond of laughter ; 
 for querulousness is opposed to the love of laughter. 
 Such then are the characteristics of youth and age. 
 A nd as everybody approves such speeches a s^are 
 framed accor ding to his owti character or reflect it7 i t 
 is easy to seethe proper way of Jbre^ti^g Q^^ 8P£££&es 
 inofder that we and the speeches we m^ke may, as- 
 gume the requisite character. 
 
 ^s to persons whollre" in the prime of life, it is chap^xiv. 
 evident that in character they will occupy a position racterof the 
 intermediate between the young and the old. They W^^ "" 
 will be exempt from the excess of either ; they will 
 be neither excessively confident, as excess of confi- 
 dence is foolhardiness, nor excessively fearful, but 
 will preserve a proper balance of confidence and 
 fear ; they will be neither universally trustful nor 
 universally distrustful, but will rather foraa their 
 judgment in accordance with the facts ; their rule 
 of life will be neither honour only nor expediency 
 only but both, and neither parsimony nor extrava- 
 gance but a proper mean. The same will be true 
 in regard to passion and desire. They will combine 
 
 i 
 
 /\/yi/t^4y 
 
 
 
 1. 
 
Ili'li 
 
 170 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 Chap. XV. 
 
 \: i 
 
 i J 
 
 The cha- 
 racter of 
 nobility. 
 
 [11. 
 
 temperance with valour and valour with temperance, 
 these being qualities which are distributed separately 
 among the young and the old ; for the young are 
 brave and licentious and the old are temperate and 
 cowardly. It may indeed be said generally that, 
 wherever there are advantages distributed between 
 youth and age, persons in the prime of life enjoy 
 both, and that, wherever there are excesses or defects 
 inherent in youth and age, they observe moderation 
 and propriety in respect to them. The bod y^I may 
 say, is at its prime from 30 to 35, and th e sou l 
 
 ab out 49. 
 
 So much for the several characters of youth, old 
 age and the prime of life. WehaifiJiexttoconsider 
 the various gifts of Fortune by which the cnarac 
 ofmen are shaped and influenced. 
 
 Now it is one characteristic o f nobility that the 
 possessor of it is distinguished by Kis ambition ; for 
 everybody who has anything to start with generally 
 makes it a basis of his accumulations, and nobility 
 is inherited distinction. Another is that such people 
 are apt to despise even those who are on an equality 
 with their own ancestors ; for the same things confer 
 more distinction and form a better subject of boast- 
 ing, when they happen at a remote distance than 
 when they happen near at hand. 'The word "no- 
 bility" has reference to family virtue, the word 
 
 1 The distinction here made between the words tvyivrji and 
 ytwaios OCCUrs again trept to (^a ioTOpiat, p. 488 Bi8_2o fvytves 
 fji€V yap (OTi TO <f dyaBov yhovs, yevvaiov 5c to fxrj f^urrapLfvov 
 €K Tfjs avTov (^iJo-fdoff. FoF the meaning of <t>v(ris see note on p. 82 
 of this translation. 
 
 II.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 171 
 
 "nobleness" to the non-degeneracy from the proper 
 nature of the individual, although this is generally 
 not the case with nobles, who are usually insig- 
 nificant persons ; for there is a sort of succession 
 of crops in families as well as in the fruits of the 
 ground, and sometimes, if the family is a good one, 
 there arise distinguished men in it during a certain 
 period of time, and then on the contrary it fails. It 
 may he remarked that, while clever families degenerate 
 into the characteristics of insanity, as happened to the 
 descendants of Alcibiades and the elder Dionysius, 
 staid families like those of Cimon, Pericles and 
 Socrates degenerate into insipidity and dullness. 
 
 The characteristics which accompany ^^glth l^^J^;^^ 
 on the surface and are easily seen. The wealthy ra^eyf 
 become insolent and overweening, being affected in ^ 
 some degree by their acquisition of wealth. This 
 disposition originates in the idea that they are in 
 possession of every kind of good ; for as wealth is 
 in a way a standard of the value of everything else, it 
 seems as if everything else were purchasable by wealth. 
 Again, the wealthy are voluptuous and ostentatious, 
 voluptuous from their luxury and the display of 
 their prosperity, ostentatious and ill-mannered from 
 the habit which is common to us all of devoting our 
 time and thought to the objects of our love and admi- 
 ration and from the idea that everybody else is emu- 
 lous of the same things as they are themselves. Nor 
 indeed is this state of mind unreasonable ; for there 
 are many people who require the services of the rich. 
 It was this which gave rise to the saying of Simonides 
 about wisdom and wealth, when he was asked by 
 
r 
 
 if 
 
 Chap. 
 XVIL 
 
 The cha- 
 racter of 
 power. 
 
 172 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [n. 
 
 the wife of Hiero whether it were preferable to be- 
 come a man of property or a philosopher. "A man 
 of property," he said, "for I see the philosophers 
 hanging about the doorsteps of the men of property." 
 Another characteristic of the wealthy is a belief 
 in their own title to authority, arising from a belief 
 that they are in possession of the things which make 
 authority worth having. In a word, t he characte r 
 o f weal tlLJa.jTosperit y without good se nse. There 
 is a diflference ofcHaracter however belween people 
 who have only lately acquired wealth and people who 
 have long enjoyed possession of it, in that the defects 
 of wealth are found in a larger measure and in 
 an aggravated form in the nouveatux) riches, as they 
 have not yet, so to say, been educated to their wealth. 
 The offences which they commit are not of a petty 
 fraudident character but are offences either of inso- 
 lence or of licentiousness, such e.g. as assault and 
 battery or adultery. 
 
 Similarly, the characteristics of power may be said 
 to be generally evident, being in some cases identical 
 with those of wealth and in others superior to them. 
 Thus the powerful are more ambitious and heroic 
 in their characters than the wealthy, as they aspire 
 to all such actions as they have authority to perform 
 in virtue of their power. They are more energetic, 
 as being always on the alert from the necessity of 
 looking to the conditions of their power. Their air 
 is one of dignity rather than of offensive importance, 
 as their high position by rendering them more con- 
 spicuous renders them moderate, and dignity is a 
 soft and graceful air of importance. And their 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 173 
 
 II.] 
 
 offences, if they commit any, are never petty but 
 always on a large scale. 
 
 The characteristics of good Fortune are deter- 
 mined by Mts shares of the advantages we have de- 
 scribed. For the greatest elements of good Fortune, 
 as they are called, follow these lines ; and it may 
 be added that good Fortune ensures superiority in 
 respect of family blessings or of personal gifts. Thus 
 while good Fortune inclines people to be somewhat 
 arrogant and unreasonable, there is one excellent 
 characteristic which it evokes, viz. the godfearing dis- 
 position of the fortunate and their general attitude 
 towards religion, as the goods of which Fortune is 
 the mother inspire a feeling of trustfulness in the 
 
 Gods. 
 
 The characters produced by age or Fortune have 
 now been described ; for the opposites of those which 
 have been described, i.e. the characters of the poor, 
 the unfortunate and the powerless, are evident from 
 a consideration of their opposites. 
 
 We are now in a position to sum up the results 
 obtained. 'Speeches of which persuasion is t' 
 
 1 Reading Kara ra fiopuu ^ ^ 
 
 2 The long sentence with which the chapter begins stands in 
 need of some little explanation. Rhetoric, whether deliberative 
 or forensic, is always, says Aristotle, addressed to a judge. In the 
 case of a deliberative speech the judge may be either an indi- 
 vidual, as when you try to persuade or dissuade a friend in private 
 life, or a number of persons, as when you address the Public 
 Assembly. But nothing is said in the text about^ addressing^ a 
 number of persons, the clause corresponding to av t€ rrphs eva 
 k.tX is not expressed. Further, a forensic speech may be either 
 an argument against a real antagonist, as in a court of law, or an 
 
 
M 
 
 I 
 
 Ml 
 
 174 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 The judicial object are invariably intended to be judged; for 
 
 character of .«'', ,.,, -..^ 
 
 anaudience. if we know a thing and have passed judgment upon 
 it, there is no longer occasion for a speech. And 
 this is true, even if it is only an individual whom 
 it is the speaker's aim to encourage or dissuade, as 
 happens often in admonition or persuasion ; for the 
 individual is as truly a judge as a large audience, 
 inasmuch as anybody who is to be persuaded may 
 be said in general terms to be a judge. It is equally 
 true, whether the speech is directed against a real 
 antagonist or an imaginary case ; for in the latter 
 instance the orator must employ his speech in up- 
 setting an opposite hypothesis, and against this he 
 argues as against a real antagonist The case is 
 iV the same in regard to epideictic oratory, where the 
 composition of the speech has in view the audience 
 Vas a judge. But as a general rule it is only the 
 person who passes judgment upon questions in 
 political contests that is strictly and properly a 
 judge ; for in political cases {which include judicial) 
 there is a question either as to the truth of the 
 points in dispute or as to the subject of the delibe- 
 ration. Th^_ characters congenial to the diff erent 
 
 pp. 67 sqq. polltics havc bccu already discussed imder the head 
 or^eliberative oratory, so that the means ^'am 
 
 argument against some theory or abstract case, as in School or 
 College declamations. See Prof. Mayor's note on Juvenal i. 16. 
 
 As to the construction of the sentence, it is more than probable 
 that Aristotle has forgotten the need of a regular apodosis. At all 
 events the clause worf diapia-^ievov av ttri K.rX p. 85, L 13, is an 
 inference only from the preceding clause, not from all the clauses 
 of the protasis. 
 
 
 GL 
 
 I 
 
 oLf^ 
 
 CCo^ |»X<* - \ 
 
 V,,,,. V*''^..-*^ 
 
 
 \ — 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 175 
 
 IL] 
 
 methods-^ investing our speeches with ^an ethical 
 character may be said to be pretty well determiiiedr" 
 
 We have seen that the ends are different in the p ss. J 
 several kinds of Rhetoric ; we have ascertained the \ 
 
 opinions and premisses in each from which proofs pp. 25 sqq. 
 are derived in deliberative and epideictic or forensic -p* 
 
 oratory ; and we have determined the means by . l^WS/^l^C^^^ 
 which it is poasiTn^t/^ invest our speeches with au \ ^^^^i^CM^^ 
 etKi^Tcharacter. It remains for us then to discuss ^^^.....^^^Ji 
 
 the common topics, as they may be called ; for apart "^ 
 from the special topics which have been described 
 it is always necessary to employ the topic of possi- \ 
 bility or impossibilitj^in our spe^gches and to try to 
 prove either that a thing will be ^r that it has al-3 
 ready occurred. Also the topic of deg;e£|f s common 
 to all kinds of Rhetoric ; for all orators use depre- 
 ciation or exaggeration^ whether in deliberative 
 Rhetoric or in eulogy or censure or in accusation 
 or defence. After determining the common topics, 
 it will be proper to say what we can in general 
 terras about enthymemes and examples, so as to 
 supply the deficiency which still remains and in this 
 way fulfil the original plan of our treatise. Among p. 70. 
 the common topics exaggeration, as has been said, 
 is especially adapted to epideictic oratory, fact past 
 to forensic oratory, as it is upon facts of the past that 
 
 (.^iM^ 
 
 1 It should be borne in mind that a speech may be called 
 " ethical " either, as here, because it is adapted to the character of _ 
 the audience to whom it is addressed or because it displays 
 certain E thical qualities in the speaker himself. (Cp. ch. i.) 
 Still it is very strange that Aristotle makes no reference here 
 either to rjOos in its more usual sense or to the tto^. 
 
 Cr 
 
 'V »• 
 
 v,^ 
 
 U- 
 
 
(1) Possi 
 bility. 
 
 h 
 
 I, i 
 
 176 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 the judicial decision turns, and the possible or future 
 to deliberative oratory. 
 
 Let us take first the topic of possibility and im- 
 v^ "possibility. 
 Chap. XIX. If there are two opposites, and the existence or 
 mon^pics. productiou of ouc of them is possible, so presumably 
 is the existence or production of the other. For in- 
 stance, if a human being can be cured, he can also 
 fall ill, inasmuch as the potentiality of opposites, ^qua 
 opposites, is identical. Again, if there are two similar 
 , fi things, and one of them is possible, so is the other. 
 Or if the more difficult of two things is possible, so 
 is the easier. Or if the production of a thing in an 
 excellent and noble form is possible, its production 
 generally is possible, as the making of a fine house 
 is harder than the making of a house. Again, if the 
 beginning of a thing is possible, so is the completion 
 of it, as no impossibility ever comes or begins to 
 come into being; the commensurability e.g. of the 
 diagonal of a square with its side cannot begin to 
 come, nor ever does come, into being. Or if the 
 completion of a thing is possible, so is its beginning ; 
 for whatever comes into being originates from a be- 
 ginning. Or if the ^posterior in essence or in gene- 
 
 ^ It is necessary to insert this limiting clause ; for although 
 health and sickness, in so far as they are opposites, are equally 
 possible to a human being, yet he may constitutionally be inclined 
 to one rather than to the other. But throughout the chapter it 
 must be remembered that the arguments suggested are only 
 rhetorically useful, not necessarily or presumably valid in logic. 
 
 2 Aristotle lays down in the Metaphysics (xiii. ch. 2, p. 1077 
 Am) the principle that to t^ yo/eVei varepov rjj ova-la npo- 
 Ttpov. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 177 
 
 II.] 
 
 i-ation is capable of coming into being, so is the 
 prior ; thus if a man can come into being, so can 
 a boy, the boy being prior in generation, and if a 
 boy can come into being, so can a man, the man 
 being essentially a beginning. Again, the objects of 
 natural love or desire are possible, as in general 
 nobody is enamoured or desirous of impossibilities. 
 Again, the existence of any science or art implies 
 the possibility of the existence or production of the 
 objects with which it deals. The same is true of 
 anything, if the origin of its production depends 
 upon things which we can influence by force or 
 Ijersuasion, i.e. upon persons whose superiors or 
 masters or friends we are. Again, if the parts of 
 a thing are possible, so is the whole, and if the 
 whole is possible, so in geneml are the parts ; thus 
 if it is possible to produce an instep, toe-cap and 
 body of a shoe, it is possible also to produce shoes, 
 and if it is possible to produce shoes, it is possible 
 also to produce an instep, toe-cap and body. Again, 
 the possibility of producing the genus as a whole 
 implies the possibility of producing the species, and 
 vice versa ; the possibility e.g. of producing a vessel 
 implies the possibility of producing a trireme, and 
 the possibility of producing a trireme implies the 
 possibility of producing a vessel. And of two things 
 which are naturally inter-dependent if one is pos- 
 sible, so is the other ; if double e.g. is possible, so 
 is half, and if half, so is double. Again, if a thing 
 can be produced without art and prepamtion, it can 
 a fortiori be produced by means of art and careful 
 pains ; whence the lines of Agathon 
 
 w. R. 
 
 12 
 
f 
 
 m 
 
 (2) Fact 
 past. 
 
 I 
 
 » 
 
 178 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 ^*-0f some must art be mother, some accrues 
 To us of fortune or necessity." 
 
 Lastly, if a thing is possible to inferior, weaker and 
 less intelligent people, it is possible a fortiori to their 
 opposite?, according to the 'saying of Isocrates that 
 it was strange, if he should himself be unable to 
 discover what a person like Euthynus had leanit 
 
 On the subject of the im])ossi ble, it is evident 
 that the orator has a stock of topics ready to hand 
 in the opposites of those which have been men- 
 tioned. 
 
 The fact of a thing having occuiTcd or not in the 
 past is to be examined by the light of the following 
 considerations. In the first place, if that which is 
 less likely to have occurred has occurred, it would 
 appear that that which is more likely has also oc- 
 curred. Or if that which is usually subsequent has 
 occurred, it may be argiied that that which is usually 
 antecedent has occurred, as e.g., if a person has for- 
 gotten something, that he had once learnt it Or if 
 a person had at once the power and the will to do 
 a certain act, it may be argued that he has done it ; 
 for everybody acts, when he has the power to do 
 what he wishes, as there is then no impediment to 
 
 ' The point of the lines, which are taken from an unknown 
 play, is that things may be brought about either by art or 
 by fortune, and that, if they are brought about by fortune, they 
 are easier. 
 
 2 There is no passage in the speech of Isocrates rrpos Ev6v- 
 vovv, if indeed it be genuine, or in any other of his extant 
 speeches which suits this allusion. Mr Sandys has suggested that 
 Aristotle may be referring by a slip of memory to an expression 
 in the speech 7rpos\KaK\ifjLa)(ov. 
 
 II.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 179 
 
 his action. The same is true, if he had the msh 
 and there was no external obstacle, or if he had the 
 power and was in an angry mood, or if he had the 
 power and with it the desire ; for it is a general 
 Jnde that people, when they are eager to do a thing, 
 actually do it, as soon as they have the power, if they 
 are bad people from the lack of self-control, and if 
 they are good, because the objects of their desire 
 are honourable. Again, if it was a Vf^on, mten- 
 tion' to do a thing, it rmy be argiiM that lie dut 
 it as there is always a probability that the intention 
 was carried out. Or if all the natural preliminaries 
 or means to a thing have occurred, U may be argmd 
 that tU thing itself ocmrred, as e.g., if it lightened 
 that it thundered too, and if a thing was attempted, 
 that it was done. Similarly, if the natural sequel or 
 end of anything has occurred, U may be argmd that 
 the preliminaries and means to it have occurred also, 
 as e g. if it thundered, that it lightened, and if a thing 
 was done, that it was attempted. In all these cases 
 the rule is sometimes one of necessity, and sometimes 
 one of only general validity. , 
 
 Arguments against the occurrence of an event in 
 the past may evidently be derived from the topics 
 
 opposite to these. -i. • .,x« <. 
 
 As to arffumetds in regard to the fiiture, it is (« ^ct 
 clear that they may be derived from the same 
 sources. It may be argmd that a thing will be 
 done, if there is both the power and the wish to do 
 it or if there is desire, anger and calculation com- 
 bined with power. Accordingly it will be done, if 
 
 1 Omitting yiyv€(r6aL, icai. 
 
 12—2 
 
180 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 l$r 
 
 I 111 
 
 n 
 
 (4) Degree. 
 
 pp. 46 sqq. 
 
 [II. 
 
 one has an immediate impulse or an intention to da 
 it ; for what is intended is generally more likely to 
 happen than what is not; or if it has been pre- 
 ceded by all its former natural antecedents ; if e.g. 
 the sky is clouded, there is a probability of rain. 
 Finally, if the means to an end have happened, there 
 is a probability of the end itself happening ; thus the 
 foundation of a house implies the house itself. 
 
 The topic of the greatness and smallness of things, 
 in themselves and in comparison with each other 
 and of great and small things generally is evident 
 from the remarks we have already made, for in our 
 chapters upon deliberative Rhetoric we have dis- 
 cussed the greatness of goods and comparative 
 greatness or smallness in the abstract Hence as 
 in each of the three kinds of Rhetoric the end 
 proposed is a good, whether expediency, honour or 
 justice, it is evident that these must be the means 
 of supplying the materials of amplification in each 
 case. It is idle to look for anything more than this 
 in regard to abstract greatness and superiority, par- 
 ticular facts being more important than general truths 
 to the purpose ivhich we have now in hand. 
 
 So much then for the possible and impossible, for 
 the proof or disproof of facts past or future and also 
 ^for the greatness and smallness of things \ 
 '^Twi^' ^* remains then to speak of the proofs which are 
 mon proofs, commou to the three kinds of Rhetoric, as the special 
 
 ^ There are then four koivoX rcmoi, as appears from this chapter^ 
 not three, as Mr Cope states in his note on § 26, nor yet the sanie 
 four as he enumerates in his Introduction, p. 129, but (1) Possibi- 
 lity, (2) Fact past, (3) Fact future, (4) Degree. 
 
 n.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 181 
 
 proofs have already been discussed. These are two 
 in kind, viz. example and enthymeme ; for the n^xim 
 iB part of an enthymeme. It will be proper to begin 
 with example, as example corresponds to mduction, 
 and 'induction is a beginning or pnmiplc ofkmw- 
 
 ^ Examples are of two kinds, one consisting in the m^^ 
 allegation of historical facts and the other in the 
 invention of facts for oneself. Also invention com- 
 prises illustration on the one hand and fables, such 
 as those of ^sop and the 'Libyan, on the other. 
 
 An instance of the allegation of historical facts («).hjs. 
 
 would be the ca«e (let me say) of a X^^^^^.^^^^^^^X^J^ 
 
 the policy of arming against the Persian King and^Xv^^^-g^'p 
 
 preventing him from subjugating Egypt on the^, 
 
 ground that Darius did not cross tU ^g(mn sea 
 
 until he had made himself master of Egypt, although 
 
 no sooner was he master of it than he did so, and 
 
 Xerxes again did not invade Grecian temtory until 
 
 he had made himself master of Egypt, although no 
 
 sooner was he master of it than he crossed the sea, 
 
 the inference being that the' present king will cross, 
 
 1 Aristotle explains his own meaning in other passages, e.g. 
 Nimm. Elh. vi. ch.3; Analyt. Po»t. «• cli. 19- 
 
 3 It would appear that, besides the fables attributed to ^sop, 
 there was a collection of fables called generally Libyan. They are 
 "rgni^ed by Quintilian (InstU. Oral. v. 11, 20) among o^ers ; 
 and a line is quoted by Hermogenes from the Myrmulom of 
 jEschylus . , 
 
 (it 8' t'ffTl Ili6<i>* TBI- Atj3l>(TTllC<»>' Aoyot. 
 
 » It has been thought that Aristotle has in mifld the occasion, 
 -it was in the year 350 B.c.-when Artaxerxes III. sum^aed 
 Ochus sent ambassadors to the different Greek states to ask for 
 
18: 
 
 Till: IvIlKTOKU; 
 
 (fi) illustr.i 
 tions. 
 
 (o) Tables. 
 
 if lie inukcs himself inii:.lcr of Egypt, aiul that consc- 
 (lucntly this iiuist not be allowed. 
 
 As an instiiucc of illustration I may cite the So- 
 ci-iitic method. Suppose e.g. one were to itij<ist upon 
 the absurdity of entrusting official power to a body 
 of men selected by lot, by urging that we might as 
 well select as our athletes, not the ablest combatants, 
 but any chance people upon whom the lot has fallen' 
 or might as well employ the lot in selecting the pilot 
 from among the crew, on the principle that the right 
 man is the one upon whom the lot has fallen r.ither 
 than the one who possesses the requisite knowledge. 
 
 The fable may be exemplified by the fables of 
 btesichorus respecting Phalaris and of ^E.soi) '" <le- 
 fcuce of the demagogue. At tlie time when the 
 people of Himcni had elected Phalaris general, had 
 invested him with absolute powei-s and were on the 
 point of allowing him a body-guard, Stesichorus at 
 the close of a long argument told them the following 
 lable. There was a horse (he said) which was the 
 sole occupant of a lueadow, when a stag came and 
 wasted his pasture ; so wishing to wreak his ven- 
 geance on tiie st;ig, he asked the man whether it 
 would be possible for him with his help to indict 
 chastisement on the stag. « Oh ! yes " said the man, 
 if you will be bridled and let me mount upon your 
 back, spear in hand." The horse consented, the man 
 mounted, and instead of taking vengeance upon the 
 stag, the horse found himself from tiiat moment the 
 man's slave. " So do you too take cjuc " said Stcsi- 
 
 uuxiliarics in liis piojcctcil invasion of K-jvpt Crete's //Iston/ of 
 Greece, cli. xc. vol. xi. iip. ■U:i—4. 
 
 i 
 
 or AlUSTOTLi:. 
 
 183 
 
 II.] 
 
 chorus, "lest in your desire to avenge youi-selves 
 upon your enemies you experience the same fate 
 jis the liorse. Tlie bridle is already in your mouth, 
 since you elected a general >vith absolute powers ; 
 give him a body-guard, let him mount upon your 
 back, and from that moment you will be the slaves 
 of Phalaris." ^Esoi» again at Samos, as coiuisel for 
 a demagogue who was being tried for a capital olFence, 
 said that a fox in crossing a river was swept domi 
 hito a cleft of the rock and, being unable to get 
 out, was for a long time in a sorry plight, and a 
 number of dog-ticks fastened upon her body. A 
 hedgehog strolling about happened to catch sight 
 of her, and was moved by compassionate feeling to 
 inquire if he should remove the dog-ticks from her. 
 The fox however would not allow him to do so, and 
 being asked the reason replied, " Because these have 
 alrciidy taken their fill of me and do not now suck 
 nmch blood ; but if you tjike these away, others will 
 come aiitl in their hunger will drain up all the blood 
 that is left" " Yes and in your case, men of Samos," 
 said il'^sop, "my client will not do nmch further 
 mischief— he has already made his fortune— but, if 
 you put him to dcatli, there will come others who are 
 poor and who will consume all the revenues of the 
 State by their embezzlements." 
 
 Fables are suited to popular oratory and have 
 this advantage that, while historical parallels are 
 hard to find, it is comparatively easy to find fables. 
 For fables have to be invented, like illustrations, 
 if one has a facidty of seeing analogies ; and the 
 discoveiy is faciliUited by culture. It may be added 
 
 
 
 \'{ 
 
 .t ^^ 
 
t 
 
 184 
 
 TfiH Jimrroiiic 
 
 ^■ 
 
 1 
 
 [ii. 
 
 that, Avhile it k less dimcult to furnish ilhistmtions 
 ill tlie sliape of fables, historical ilhistrations have 
 
 ).f I a higher vahie in delibei-ation, inasnmcli as hi.-story 
 
 ^ '' ^ tends to repeat itself. 
 
 STrnpfcs'' ^^ '^ ^'^^^1'^^'' "' '^^^^'"^^ ^^ cnthyincnies to make 
 use of examples as logical proofs, these being the 
 natural means of producing conviction, but other- 
 wise to make use of them as testimonies by way of 
 a supplement to our enthymemes. For if >ve put 
 them first, they resemble an induction, and induction 
 is something inappropriate to Rhetoric unless in 
 exceptional cases ; but if Ave put them last, they 
 resemble testimonies, and testimony is invariably 
 persuasive. And fiom this it follows tliat, if we put 
 them first, it is necessary to employ a considei-able 
 number of them, but if last, a single one is sufiicient, 
 as even a single credible witness is of service. 
 
 The discussion of the dillerent species of examples 
 and of the methods and occasions of using them is 
 now complete. 
 
 celap. XXI. In regard to the art of maxim-making it will be 
 ^j^gi^^^ to see the proper subjects of maxims, the 
 proper occasions of using them and the persons to 
 whom they are appropriate, if Ave firet define the 
 nature of a maxim. 
 
 A maxim is a declaration, not hoAAxvcr relating 
 to particulars, as e.g. to the character of Iphicrates, 
 but to universals ; nor yet again to all univei-sals 
 indiscriminately, as e.g. that straight is the opposite 
 of crooked, but to all such as are the objects of 
 human action and are to be chosen or eschcAved in 
 The maxim that regard. Enthymemes then being, as Ave may 
 
 Definition 
 of a maxim 
 
 I 
 
 r 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 OF AUISTCJTLK. 
 
 185 
 
 II.] 
 
 sav the form of syllogism appropriate to these iv^J^^ 
 matters, if the syllogistic form is done aAvay, the 
 conclusion of an enthymeme or its major premiss is a 
 maxim. For instiince, the lines 
 
 1 " No iniui (►f common scnso 
 Should have his chiUlren taught to bo too clever," 
 
 are a maxim, but add the motive or reason, i.e. 
 
 " For they are idle sluggards and besides 
 Gain envious liatred from the citizens," 
 
 and the whole is an enthymeme. Again, 
 
 8 " No man that lives is altogether happy," 
 
 or, 
 
 '"There is no man that is or can be free," 
 
 is a maxim ; but it becomes an enthymeme by the 
 
 addition of the next line 
 
 " For money is his master or else Fortune." 
 Such then being the definition of a maxim, it Four^mds H 
 follows at once that there are four kinds of maxims, 
 as they may either have or not have a logical sup- 
 
 • plement Demonstrative proof is re(iuisite in all 
 such maxims as contain a statement which is para- 
 doxical or disputable ; but where there is nothing 
 paradoxical, a supplement is unnecessary. It is un- 
 necessary in this case either because the maxims are 
 already familiar, as when it is said : 
 
 1 Euripides Medea, 295, sqq. 
 
 2 A fragment of Euripides, said to be the first Ime of the 
 
 SthetioUva. 
 
 3 Euripides Ilccuha, 804— ri. 
 
 _J 
 
 ! i 
 
 i) 
 
 I I 
 
 
 - i- 
 
 m 
 
 ri 
 
 m 
 
 mmmmmmmm 
 
 \ 
 
r 
 
 U 
 
 ^8G THE KllKTUltlC [iK 
 
 ^ " For a man, niethinks, there is no such wealth 
 In the world we live in as excellent health," 
 
 this bcii]^^ a pretty general opinion, or because they 
 are intelligible at a glance, as in the saying 
 
 *"True love is love for evermore/' 
 
 On the other hand, siicli maxims as have a logical 
 supplement are either parts of an cnthymerac''like 
 the lines hajlnnlnrj "No man of conmion sense" 
 or, although enthymematic in tiieir form, are not 
 actually parts of an enthymemc ; and it is these last 
 which are most generally popular. There are maxims 
 in which the reason of the statement made is virtually 
 expressed in the maxim itself as in the line 
 
 ^'*A'urso not inunortal anger, being mortal." 
 
 For while the prohibition of nursing ones anger 
 for ever is a maxim, the addition of tlic words "being 
 mortal " conveys the reason. The saying 
 
 -•"A mortal should think mortal thoughts 
 Not thoughts immortal," 
 
 is an instance of the same thing. 
 
 ^ The liistory of the Greek line quoted is unknown, hut it 
 closely resembles the beginning of a aKoX^ou or drinking-son- 
 which Athenajus {Dcipnosoph. xv. p. G94 e\ attributes t^ 
 bniionulcs. Sec Mr Cope's note. 
 
 - Euripides Troade.s-y lOal. 
 
 '' An unknown line; but it exactly corresponds in sentiment 
 with a fragment of the Phifoctdes of Kuripides (Fragment 790 in 
 Dnidorf s Poetae Scenici Grwci). Whoever may have been the 
 author of it, it was borrowed or imitated by Menander. 
 
 * A line which JJentley in his Dissertation on Phalarit attri- 
 butcs, not without some cause, to Epicharmus. 
 
 OF AHISTOTLB. 
 
 187 
 
 k 
 
 « 
 
 J 
 
 11.] 
 
 From what lias been said then it is evident bow 
 many various i^inds of maxims there are, and what 
 is tlic liind of subject to wliich eaeli is appropriate. — , 
 Where the statement is disputable or paradoxical, 
 it is never proper to omit the supplement ; we must 
 either put it fii-st and make a maxim of the con- 
 elusion, as c.g. in the words, « For my own part -J 
 then, as one is bound not to incur envy and not 
 to waste one's time, I deny tlic duty of having clid- 
 dren educated"; or we must state the conclusion 
 fii-st and append the supplement But where the 
 statement is obscure although not paradoxical, we 
 must add the reason in as tei-se a form as possible. 
 In such cases there is a certoin appropriateness in 
 Laconic utterances and enigmatical sayings, such 
 as ■ that of Stcsichoms at Locri, that "they had better _.. 
 not be insolent, or perhaps the cicalas would chirp 
 
 upon the ground." 
 
 The use of maxims is appropriate when the speaker The ,«e of 
 is a person of some age and the subject one of which 
 he has experience ; for it is as unbecoming as story- 
 telling in the nioutlm of the young, and in the absence 
 of experience is a mark of folly aiul luck of culture, as 
 indeed is sufliciently evident in the case of rustics who 
 are always fond of coining maxims and ready to an- 
 them. The practice of unwarranted generalization is 
 most appropriate in bitter complaint and indignation, 
 whether at the beginning of a speech or after the 
 
 > The point of tliis saving is explained in Mr Cope's note. As 
 the cicalas, when they chirp, sit in the trees, they would not 
 cliirp ui)on the ground, unless the trees were all cut down, i.e. unless 
 the land had utterly been ravaged. 
 
188 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 demonstration. Nor is it right to neglect even trite and 
 commonplace maxims, if they are useful; for their 
 very commonness and general acceptance imparts to 
 them an air of truth, as e.g. if a general exhorts his 
 troops to face the enemy, although they have not first 
 offered sacrifice, by quoting the language of Hoiner : 
 
 ^" The best of omens is our country's cause," 
 
 or to do so against odds hg reminding them of 
 
 2 "The even chance of war," 
 
 or to destroy the children of their enemies, although 
 they may not have committed any offence, by quoting 
 the proverb 
 
 " Fool he who slays the sire and spares the son.'* 
 
 Again, there are some proverbs which are also maxims, 
 e.g. the proverb ^ "An Attic neighbour." 
 
 Maxims may be cited too in contradiction of sayings 
 which have become the public property of the world, 
 such e.g. as "Know thyself" and "Avoid excess", 
 when there is a chance of our presenting our charac- 
 ter in a more favourable light by citing tJiefin as they 
 are uttered by us in an emotional state of mind. It 
 would be a case of a maxim uttered under emotion, if 
 one should say in a moment of anger " It is not true 
 that we ought to know ourselves ; at least, if this man 
 
 * Iliad xii. 243 ; and the line is e8j)ecially appropriate, as being 
 spoken by Hector, when Polydanias has been urging the force of 
 an adverse omen. 
 
 '^ Iliady xviii. 309. 
 
 3 " An Attic neighbour " is clearly a neighbour of a restless, 
 troublesome, unscrupulous kind. See e.g. Thucydides L ch. 70 ; 
 iv. ch. 92. 
 
 II.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 189 
 
 knew himself, he would never have had the presump- 
 tion to be general". And our character would appear 
 in a more favourable light, if we should say "It is not 
 right, as we are told, to love as if our love might be 
 converted into hatred ; we ought rather to hate as it 
 our hatred might some day be converted into love . 
 We should incidentally exhibit our moral purpose m 
 our language or, if not, should subjoin the reason, say- 
 ing e.g. either '^ It is right to love, not as we are told 
 to love in the proverb, but as if our love would last 
 for evermore ; for there is something insidious m 
 the other kind of love," or else "The adage does not 
 satisfy me, for a true friend should love as though his 
 love would last for evermore;" or again "Neither does 
 the maxim *Avoid excess' satisfy me, for we ought to 
 have an excessive hatred of evil." i 
 
 / One great service which maxims render to our c^ 
 ( speeches is owing to the vulgarity of our audience as 
 they are delighted when a general statement of the 
 \ speaker hits the opinions of which they have a partial 
 Vgrasp. My meaning, and with it the true method of 
 discovering maxims, will be evident from the follow- 
 injr rules. The maxim, as has been said, is a general 
 statement, and people are pleased by a general state- 
 ment of anything of which they already entertain a 
 partial conviction ijhus anybody who has been un- 
 fortunate in his neighbours or his children wiU be 
 dad to hear it said that there is nothing which is so 
 troublesome as a pack of neighbours or nothing so 
 foolish as the procreation of children, tt is proper^ 
 therefore, to conjecture what are the naanner and 
 character of their prepossessions, and, having done so, 
 
 , Vji^ 0*--^ "^ C-V--— ' 
 
 ^ ~ c 
 
 jjA^ 
 
 . -a c 
 
/ 1 
 
 190 
 
 THE rhetoric; 
 
 [II. 
 
 to put forward a general statement in regard to them. 
 This is one advantage in the use of maxims ; but there 
 is another which is more important, as they impart an 
 ethical character to our speeches. A speech is ethi- 
 cal, if its moral purpose is apparent ^But this is the 
 invariable effect of maxims ; for a speaker who gives 
 utterance to a maxim makes a statement in general 
 terms about the object of his moral predilection, and 
 lience, if the maxims are virtuous, they give the ap- 
 pearance of a virtuous character to the speaker. 
 
 So much then in regard to maxims, their nature, 
 y^ and their various kinds, the manner of using them 
 I and the benefit they confer. 
 
 Coming now to enthymemes, we will discuss in 
 general terms first the true method of looking for 
 them and secondly their topics ; for these two parts 
 of the subject are generically distinct 
 
 We have already stated that the enthymeme is a 
 species of syllogism, and in what sense it is so, and how 
 it differs from the syllogisms of dialectic, in that its 
 I conclu sions may not be draw n from remote premisses— 
 ^or this would be so long a process as to be obscure^ 
 nor by the introduction of each particular step hithe 
 argument, as the statement of self-evident facts would^ 
 lead us into prolixity. This is in truth the reaswi^" 
 why the uneducated have more persuasive power 
 I among the masses than the educated ; they are the 
 more accomplished speakers, as Uhe poets say, in a 
 mob, for while the educated deal in universal or gene- 
 i-al statements, such statements as are made by un- 
 
 1 ^ No doubt there is a special reference to Euripides' Hippoly. 
 tas, 988—9. 
 
 / Chap. / 
 XXIJ. 
 
 V2) Thecn- 
 nyrnieme. 
 
 Definition 
 of an en- 
 thymeme. 
 pp. 1.1, 1»;. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 191 
 
 II.] 
 
 educated persons are not far-fetched but based upon 
 facts within the experience of their audience. It fol- J^^e^^f^^; 
 lows that the proper materials of enthymemes must thymemes. 
 be not all opinions indiscriminately, but certain defi- 
 nite opinions, defined, I mean, either by our audien ce 
 or by i)ersons in whom they believe, and in the latter 
 case the fact of such an opinion being entertained 
 'must be well known to all or the great majority of 
 our audience. Again, the premisses from which our 
 conclusions are drawn must be not only such as are 
 necessary, but such also as are only generally true. 
 
 It is proper to begin by apprehending the ne- 
 cessity of knowing all or some of the special facts of 
 the case upon which we are to speak or reason, 
 whether the subject of the reasoning be political or 
 any other, as in the absence of such knowledge there 
 will be no materials from which our conclusions may 
 be drawn. How e.g. should we offer counsel to the 
 Athenians as to the policy of declaring war or not, 
 unless we know what is the nature of their forces, 
 whether they are naval or military or both, and what 
 is their strength, what are the revenues of the State 
 and its friends or foes, or again what wars it has been 
 engaged in and with what success and so on ? how 
 eulogize them, if we had no knowledge of the sea- 
 fight at Salamis or the battle of Marathon or the 
 services rendered by them to the Heracleidae or any- 
 thing else of the same kind, seeing that eulogy must 
 always be based upon honourable deeds either actual 
 or supposed ? Similarly it is from facts of an oppo- 
 
 1 The infinitive, as Mr Shilleto says, is intelligible, if it is re- 
 membered that \€KTiov is equivalent to Sfl Xeyciv. 
 
 '■ 1 
 
 V 
 
 I 
 
 Ifi 
 
~ 
 
 192 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 site kind that we derive our topics of censure, by 
 considering what there is or seems to be that i» 
 censurable in them, as e.g. that they * reduced the 
 Greeks to subjection and enslaved the 'iEginetans 
 and ^Potidaeans who had been the bravest of their 
 allies against the Persians and so on, or any other 
 similar offence which is found in them. And so again 
 it is from a consideration of the facts of the case that 
 we derive our topics of accusation or defence. It 
 makes no difference in this respect whether our sub- 
 ject be the Athenians or the Lacedaemonians or man or 
 God ; for whetherwe are advising Achilles or eulogizing 
 or censuring or accusing or defending him, it is the 
 facts actual or supposed which we have to ascertain^ 
 so as to base upon these our statement of what is 
 honourable or shameful, in a speech of eulogy or 
 censure, of what is just or unjust in accusation or 
 defence, and of what is expedient or injurious in 
 delibemtion. Similarly as regards any subject, let ug 
 say, justice, in considering whether it is or is not a 
 good, we must start with the characteristics of justice 
 or of good. This method of demonstration then is 
 found to be universal, whether in the more exact or 
 in the looser species of reasoning, as it is not from all 
 facts indiscriminately that we derive our premisses 
 but from the characteristic facts of each particular 
 subject, and this is the sole method of proof which is 
 possible by means of the speech. Hence we clearly 
 
 1 Cp. the speech of the Mitylenaean envoys at Olyrapia, Thuc. 
 iii. ch. 9 seq. 
 
 2 See Thuc. 11. ch. 27 ; iv. ch. 57. 
 
 3 See Thuc. ii. ch. 70. 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 193 
 
 see i^he necessity in Rhetoric as well as in the * Topics 
 of Dialectic of having first of all a selection of argu- 
 ments respecting the possibilities and the most op- 
 port^une circumstances of each subject and, as to cir- 
 cum|stances which arise on the spur of the moment, 
 of piossessing the same method of investigation, fixing 
 our (eyes not upon vague generalities but upon the 
 8i)ec^al facts of the subject of our speech, and bringing 
 into the sphere of our argument the greatest possible 
 number of facts and of facts as closely connected as 
 possible with the subject; for the more facts we have 
 in our possession, the easier is the proof, and the 
 more nearly they touch the case, the more germane 
 and the less general they are. And when I speak of 
 "general facts," I am referring e.g. to a eulogy of 
 Achilles for being a man or one of the demi-gods or 
 for having taken part in the expedition against Ilium, 
 Tfhich facts are all true of many other people, so 
 that to use such language is to eulogize Diomedes as 
 much as Achilles ; by " special facts " I mean those 
 which are true of Achilles alone, as e.g. that he slew 
 'lector the bravest of the Trojans and Cycnus the 
 invulnerable who prevented the disembarkation of all 
 the host, or that he was the yoimgest of those who 
 went to the war, or that he went without being bound 
 by oath, and so on. 
 
 This being then one primary principle of selection, 
 viz. the topical or selection by topics, let us proceed 
 to the elements of enthymemes, and by an element of 
 
 * The reference is perhaps to the first book of the Topics In 
 general. 
 
 W. R. 13 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 I- \ 
 
 'ill 
 
194 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 i 
 
 strative, 
 (b) refuta 
 tive. 
 
 
 ^orc 
 
 [II. 
 
 enthymeme T mean the same thing as a topic. Le^t us 
 begin however with the necessary preliminaries. 1 
 ofTnt^'"' "^^^^^ ^^® *w« species of enthymemes, viz. ' de- 
 memes: monstrativc entliymemes which prove that a thin^g is 
 or is not so and so, and refutative enthymemes,/ the 
 difference between the two being the same as . be- 
 tween a refiitation and a syllogism in dialectics. (The 
 S^tve'"' demonstrative enthymeme consists in drawing con- 
 clusions from admitted propositions, the refutative? in 
 drawing conclusions which are inconsistent tvith > the 
 co7idusiom of one's adversary. | 
 
 It may now be said that we have ascertained ihe 
 topics relating to the several special subjects of a 
 useful and necessary kind ; for as the propositions 
 suitable to each have been selected, the topics from 
 which to derive enthymemes regarding what is good 
 or evil, noble or shameful, just or unjust, and simi- 
 larly the topics of the characters, emotions and habit« 
 of mind are known to us by the process of selection 
 already made. We will proceed then in another way 
 to ascertain some general topics applicable to all 
 subjects alike and to indicate side by side the refuta- 
 tive and demonstrative topics and the topics of en- 
 thymemes which are apparent but not real, as neither 
 are apparent syllogisms real ones. And having 
 cleared up these points, we will determine the proper 
 sources from which to bring refutations and objections 
 to bear upon our enthymemes. 
 
 One topic of demonstrative enthymemes may be 
 derived from a consideration of opposites. If tve take 
 any two thhigs, of which one is said to he ])re' 
 dicable of the other, we have to consider whether the 
 
 'Topics of 
 enthy- 
 memes. 
 
 OL^.'V.^xv 
 
 (yL^\A^cAyi^\y~>^ , 
 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 195 
 
 opposite of the one is predicable of the opposite of 
 the other, upsetting the original proposition, if it is 
 not predicable, and confirming the original propo- 
 sition, if it is, as e.g. arguing that self-restraint is ex- 
 pedient on the ground that licentiousness is injurious. 
 There is an example of this topic in Hhe Messenian 
 oration of Alcidamas. " If the war (he says) is the 
 cause of our present troubles, then it is by means of 
 the peace that we must remedy them." 
 
 Another example is afforded by the lines 
 
 "If Justice suffers not to rage against 
 The involuntary authors of our harm, 
 So, whoso is constrained to do us good. 
 No thanks are due for services to him^." 
 
 or by these 
 
 ** If falsehood is persuasive i' the world, 
 The contrary too must hold, that many things 
 I' the world are true, yet unbelievable^." 
 
 A second topic is derived from the * inflexions of 
 the same stem, as that which is or is not predicable of 
 one is or is not predicable of another. Thus we 
 may argue that justice is not always good; else 
 the word "justly" would always have a good sense, 
 whereas to be justly put to death is the reverse of 
 desirable. 
 
 * The Messenian oration has been already mentioned, but in 
 a passage where the text is defective, p. 45, 1. 34. 
 
 2 The lines are variously ascribed to Agathon or to Theo- 
 dectes. 
 
 3 A fragment of the Thyestes of Euripides. 
 
 * This passage should be compared with p. 26, 11. 9—13 ; p. 30, 
 II. 25—28. 
 
 13—2 
 
 m 
 

 196 
 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 Tliere is another arising from relative terms. It 
 may he argued that, if "honourably" and "justly" 
 are terms which are predicable of the action of the 
 agent, they are predicable also of the suffering of 
 the patient, and that if they are predicable of the 
 command, they are predicable of its execution. It 
 was in this sense that the tax-gatherer Diomedon said 
 of his taxes " If there is no disgrace in your selling 
 them, there is none in my purchasing them." Again, 
 it mat/ be argued that if " honourably " or "justly " 
 may be predicated of the patient, they may be pre- 
 dicated also of the agent and vice versa:' "^ (But 
 there is a possibility of fallacious argument here. A 
 person, let us say, deserved to suffer so and so ; ' but 
 possibly not at your hands. Accordingly what we 
 have to do is to consider separately the appropria- 
 teness of the suffering to the patient and of the 
 action to the agent and then apply the result in either 
 way that suits best ; for it sometimes happens that 
 there is a discrepancy, and the justice of the suffering 
 does not at all prove that the action is not a wrong 
 one. It is so in the ' Alcmaeon of Theodectes. 
 
 "Did no man loath thy mother?" 
 
 says Alphemboea. Alcmaeon's answer is 
 
 " We must distinguisli ere we judge." 
 ^ This sentence seems to me nothing better than a dtrroypa- 
 
 2 Omitting diKalws ir^'novdev. 
 
 3 Alphesiboea is the wife of Alcmaeon; and she charges him 
 with the murder of his mother Eriphyle for her guilt in betravinir 
 Amphiaraus to death. ' 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 197 
 
 " How so?" she says, and he replies 
 
 " Her they doomed 
 To death, not me to be her murderer ")i. 
 
 There is a parallel instance in the case ^ of Demos- 
 thenes and of the murderers of Nicanor ; for as they 
 were judged to have a right to kill him, it was held 
 that he had been rightly killed. It was the same 
 in the case of ^the man who was put to death at 
 Thebes ; the counsel for the defendants exhorted the 
 judges merely to consider whether the murdered man 
 had deserved to die, assuming that the murder of one 
 who deserved to die could not be unjust. 
 
 Another topic is the argument from degree. Thus 
 it may be argued that, if the Gods themselves are 
 not omniscient, much less are men, meaning that 
 if a condition is not realized, where it would be more 
 natural, it will evidently not be realized, where it 
 would be less so. But the argument that a person 
 is capable of striking his neighbours because he 
 actually strikes his father depends upon the principle 
 that, if * the rarer fact is true, the commoner fact is 
 
 * Mr Cope rightly urges that the foregoing clauses should be 
 regarded as parenthetical The argument proceeds consecutively, 
 when they are so treated. 
 
 2 The incident is not known from other sources. 
 
 3 1 cannot feel sure that Buhle, although Mr Cope follows him, 
 has proved his point in connecting this allusion with the story told 
 by Xenophon Hellen. vii. ch. 3. 
 
 * This must clearly be the meaning of ro tJttov and t6 ^mWov, 
 if the reading of the passage is correct. Perhaps however it 
 should be ei to ^ttov eUbs xmapx^h 'f"^ ^o imWov vndpx^i, as 
 ToTTtKo ii ch. 10 would suggest 
 
198 
 
 THE KHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 true also. ' The argument there/ore is one that map 
 be employed, whether the conclusion which we wish 
 to establish be positive or negative. Again, the topic 
 is applicable to a case of parity, as in the lines 
 
 "Thy sire 
 Is pitiable having lost his sons, 
 And (Eneup, of his noble child bereft, 
 Is he not pitiable 2?" 
 
 Similarly we may argue that, if Theseus was inno- 
 cent, so was Alexander (Paris) or, if the sons of 
 Tyndareus were innocent, so was Alexander, or that, 
 if Hector had a right to slay Patroclus, so had Paris 
 a right to slay Achilles, or again that, if other artisans 
 are not contemptible, neither are philosophers, or 
 that, if generals should not be condemned for being 
 often defeated, neither should sophists, or again, '"If 
 each individual is bound to study your reputation, 
 you are bound in your turn to study the reputation 
 of all the Greeks." 
 
 There is another topic depending upon a conside- 
 ration of the time^ Thus Mphicrates in defending 
 
 ^ 1 I cannot help thinking that the clause Kaff cW^fpoi. Sv h4rj 
 d€2iai k.tX, belongs to both preceding sentences. It would be 
 well then to change the full stops after Mpa>iros, 1. 18, and ^jwou 
 L 20 to colons or commas. 
 
 2 A quotation supposed to be taken from the Meleager of 
 Antiphon. (Eneus was the father of Meleager. 
 
 3 A supposed appeal of an Athenian orator to the Public 
 Assembly for a chivalrous devotion to the interests of Greece. 
 
 ** Harmodius opposed the motion to erect a statue of Iphicra- 
 tes in commemoration of his victory over the Lacedaemonians, 
 B.C. 392. (Grote's History of Greece, ch. 75, vol. ix. pp 173 
 sqq.) 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 199 
 
 himself against Harmodius said " Suppose that be- 
 fore the action I had demanded the statue in case 
 of doing it, you would have granted it; now that 
 the action has been done, will you refuse it? Do 
 not then make a promise in anticipation, and de- 
 fraud me of it, when you have received the bene- 
 fit." Again, if the object is to induce the Thebans 
 to * afford Philip a passage into Attica, it may 
 be argued that, "if he had preferred the request 
 before giving them assistance against the Phocians, 
 they would have consented ; it is a monstrous shame 
 that they should not afford him the passage, be- 
 cause he threw away his opportunity and trusted 
 their honour." 
 
 Another topic consists in applying to our adver- 
 sary's case anything that he has said about ourselves. 
 * It is a topic of singular force as may be seen in the 
 " Teucer. It was employed by Iphicrates in his reply 
 to Aristophon, when he asked him if he would take 
 a bribe to betray the fleet. "No" said Aristophon. 
 " Well, then " he replied " if you an Aristophon would 
 refuse the bribe, shall I an Iphicrates accept it?" It 
 is assumed of course that our adversary is one who 
 would be thought more likely to have been guilty 
 of the crime ; otherwise, there would clearly be 
 something ridiculous in such a retort, if it were used 
 as a means of meeting the attack of an Aristeides. 
 
 1 It was a short while only before the battle of Chseronea that 
 Philip applied to the Thebans for a free passage. 
 
 2 Reading 6 rtmos. 
 
 3 No doubt the Teucer of Sophocles; but the precise point of 
 
 the reference is unknown. 
 
200 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [n. 
 
 • It is meant on the contrarp to create distrust of the 
 prosecutor, as he generally affects a higher virtue 
 than the defendant, and it is this which '^requires to 
 
 / K° ' ,i^ P®*^"" ''^"'"'■^^ °*''«'^ for doing what he 
 
 I tir , .T ."?■ '^ ^P"''^^ «f '^"•"g' «'• ^^horts them 
 Vto do what he himself does not or is incapable of doin^ 
 
 lliere ,s another topic arising from definition . L 
 
 IffhJr T^"T *^** ^^^ Bupematui^ri be 
 «ther God or the work of God ; but anybody who 
 
 be .eves in the existence of a work of God necessarily 
 
 believes also m the existence of Gods. Another 
 
 mtoe ,s 'Iphicrates's argument that the mist 
 
 virtuous person is the noblest, because there was 
 
 nothing noble ,n Harmodius and Aristogeiton until 
 
 thif h. P'r^*'™^? * "*'''•" ^^'^ ' «>• '»« argument 
 that he wa^ himself a nearer relation of theirs than 
 
 their <mn descendant, "at all events my actions are 
 more nearly related to those of Harmodius and Aris- 
 togeiton than yours are." Similarly, in the 'Alexander 
 
 ■ It is difficult to believe that Gaisford is right in takin" the 
 whole passage from ofo, .V r^ r.i.^ ,. g, to Jr6 r., Zu^lxu 
 
 ^ Reading §« instead of ac/. 
 
 his IrS' '£rZ "J't'^ '" "•* '"^■»«"' ""^ ^y Socrates at 
 nis iriai. See Plato Apology, pp. 26 27 
 
 I 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 201 
 
 II.] 
 
 it is said " Everyone will admit that licentious people 
 are not content with the enjoyment of a single love." 
 Socrates's reason for not going to the court of Arche- 
 laus is also a case in point ; he said it was as igno- 
 minious to be without the power of returning a 
 benefit as to be without the power of returning an 
 injury. In all these cases the speaker first defines 
 a term and ascertains its nature and then proceeds to 
 reason from it on the point at issue. 
 
 Another topic springs from the various senses of 
 a word ; I may refer to the discussion of the right 
 use of words in the ^ Topics, 
 
 Another fro m division , as e.g. if there are three 
 possible causes of a crime, and while two of these are 
 out of the question, the third is not alleged even by 
 the prosecution. 
 
 Another topic depends upon induction ; and of 
 this the *Peparethian case supplies an example. It 
 was argued in it that the decision of women about 
 their children is everywhere correct ; for in one in- 
 stance at Athens, in the dispute between Mantias the 
 rhetorician and his son, the declaration of the mother 
 tvds regarded as final, and in another at Thebes, in 
 the dispute between Ismenias and Stilbon, Dodonis 
 the mother affirmed that Ismenias was the father of 
 the child, and accordingly the child Thettaliscus was 
 always considered to be his son. Or again, to quote 
 
 it is apparently quoted several times in this and the next 
 chapter. 
 
 ^ ToTTtica i. eh. 15 ; ii. eh. 3. 
 
 2 This was a cause celebre relating to the parentage of a 
 child. 
 
 % 
 
202 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 the *"Iaw" of Theodectes, " If we do not entrust our 
 own horses to those who have mismanaged other 
 people's, or our ships to those who have wrecked 
 other people's, it follows that, if this rule is of 
 universal application, we should be wrong in en- 
 trusting our own safety to those who have proved 
 themselves inefficient guardians of the safety of 
 others." Such a case too is the statement of Alcida- 
 mas that all the world pays honour to the wise, " at 
 least the Parians have honoured Archilochus, reviler 
 as he was, the Chians Homer, although he was not 
 their fellow-countryman, and the Mitylenaeans Sappho 
 despite her sex, the Lacedaemonians, the least literary 
 of all people, bestowed a seat in their senate upon 
 Chilon, as did also the Italian Greeks upon Pytha- 
 goras, and the Lampsacenes gave Anaxagoras a public 
 burial, although he was an alien, and continue to the 
 present day to pay him honour." ^ Again, it may he 
 argued that states are always prosperous under tlie 
 laws of philosophers, because the Athenians pros- 
 pered under the laws of Solon and the Lacedemo- 
 nians under those of Lycurgus, and at Thebes no 
 sooner did Hhe leacUng men become philosophers 
 than the state entered upon a career of prosperity. 
 There is another topic derivable from a judgment 
 already pronounced upon the same or a similar or an 
 
 1 Apparently a speech delivered by Theodectes -it is quoted 
 again p. 101, 1. 9-upon a law proposed by himself or somebody 
 else m reference to the position of mercenaries. 
 
 ' It is clear that something has faUen out of the text and must 
 be supplied to make the instances quoted apposite. 
 
 3 « The leading men" are Pelopidas and Epaminondas. 
 
 n.] OF ARISTOTLE. 203 
 
 opposite question, especially if it is the judgment of 
 all men and all times, or, failing that, of a large 
 majority or of all or nearly all the wise or good or 
 again of the judges themselves or of those whose 
 authority they admit or whose judgment admits of 
 no contradiction, as e.g. if they are those who are 
 masters of the situation or who cannot be opposed 
 without impropriety, such as the Gods or a parent or 
 one's teachers. This was the point of ^Autocles's 
 remark against Mixidemides, " The idea of the awful 
 Goddesses (the Eumenides) submitting to be tried 
 before the Court of Areopagus and Mixidemides re- 
 fusing" ; or Sappho's that " it is an ill thing to die, 
 for so have the Gods decided; else would they die 
 themselves"; or Aristippus's reply to Plato who had, 
 he thought, rather assumed an air of dogmatism, 
 "Well, anyhow that was not our friend's way," mean- 
 ing Socrates. Agesipolis again, after consulting the 
 oracle at Olympia, went on to ask the God at Delphi 
 whether he was of the same mind as his father, im- 
 plying that it would be disgraceful to contradict him. 
 Again ^in the case of Helen Isocrates contended that 
 she must be virtuous, inasmuch as she was approved 
 by Theseus, and in that of ^Alexander, tlmt he must he 
 virtuous, as he had been the favourite of the God- 
 desses ; *Evagoras also (says Isocrates) was virtuous, 
 at all events when Conon found himself in difficulties, 
 he left everybody else and went to Evagoras. 
 
 ^ It may be inferred that Mixidemides had denied the au- 
 thority of the Court of Areopagus in a case concerning himself. 
 
 2 The passage is in the Helen, §§ 23 — 25. 
 
 3 Probably in the Hden, § 46. 
 
 Evag. § 61. 
 
204 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 ', I 
 
 Another topic consists in taking separately the 
 I^rts o/a mi^ect, in comidering cg^ as is done in 
 the Topics, what sort of motion the soul is, as it 
 must be this or that. The 'Socrates of Theodectes 
 will supply an illustration, where he says "What 
 temple has he profaned ? where is the God, among all 
 the Gods recognized by the State, to whom he has 
 not paid due honour?" 
 
 Also, as it happens in the great majority of cases 
 that the same thing has consequences partly good 
 and partly bad, another topic consists in using the 
 attendant circumstances as means of exhortation or 
 dissuasion, accusation or defence, eulogy or censure 
 Thus education is attended by envy, which is an evil 
 and by wisdom, which is a good; hence it is possible 
 to argue against education on the ground that envy is 
 a thing to be avoided, and in its favour on the ground 
 that wisdom is a thing to be desired. This is the 
 topic which constitutes the entire rhetorical system 
 of CaUippus, if we add to it the topic of possibility 
 and the other topics, *a8 has been said. 
 
 There is another topic when in reference to two 
 opposite things it is necessary to employ exhortation 
 or dissuasion and to apply to both the method already 
 
 ' " 'l n»t easy to distinguish this topic from the one described 
 p. 88, L 34, except that the latter is specially forensic in its bear- 
 
 2 ToTTiKa ii. ch. 4, p. 111,64-11. 
 
 3 Andnokoyia 2<oKpiTovs or imaginary speech of Socrates in 
 nis own defence. 
 
 * There has been no reference to the H^^ of Callippus; but 
 perhaps Anstotle means the other - common topics" which have 
 been diacussed in ch. 19. 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 205 
 
 described, the difference being that, whereas in the 
 last case it was any two things, it is here two opposites 
 that are contrasted. Thus there was a certain priestess 
 who forbade her son to go into politics; "for if what 
 you say is just" she said "you will be hated by men, 
 and if it is unjust, by the Gods." But a plea might 
 equally well be advanced for political life, for "if 
 what you say is just, you will be a favourite with the 
 Gods, and if it is unjust, with men." This is the 
 same thing as the proverb " to take the fat with the 
 lean"; *" divarication," as it is called, is simply the 
 case of two opposites having each a good and an evil 
 consequence, which are respectively opposite to each 
 other. 
 
 Again, as there is a difference between the objects 
 which people praise in public and in secrecy, and, 
 while they make a show of lauding justice and honour 
 above everything else, they prefer expediency in 
 their hearts, another topic consists in trying to use 
 an adversary's premisses, whichever mode of senti- 
 ment he adopts, to infer the opposite of his con- 
 clusion ; for there is no topic of paradoxes so entirely 
 effective as this *. 
 
 ^ Although it is impossible, I think, to represent the rhetorical 
 fi\aia<o<rii by any equivalent existing English word, it is compara- 
 tively easy to infer its meaning from the example. Honesty and 
 dishonesty (it may be said) are the opposites. Each has a good 
 and an evil attached to it, to honesty the favour of Heaven and 
 the hatred of the world, to dishonesty the favour of the world and 
 the hatred of Heaven, and these goods and evils are '* respectively 
 opposite to each other". A metaphor derived from legs irregu- 
 larly diverging would express as nearly as possible this relation. 
 
 ^ The meaning seems to be that, if an adversary takes a high 
 
 I 
 
 \l 
 
206 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 Another topic is derived from analogy of results. 
 Iphicrates, for instance, resisted an effort to impose 
 a public burden upon his son because of his size, 
 although he was under the legal age, by saying " If 
 you reckon tall boys men, you will have to vote short 
 men boys/' Theodectes again in his '"law" said "If 
 you enfranchise mercenaries like Strabax and Chari- 
 demus in consideration of their respectability, will 
 you not expatriate those of the mercenaries who have 
 been guilty of irreparable crimes?" 
 
 Another topic consists in arguing identity of cause 
 from identity of effect. Xenophanes, for instance, 
 contended that it was as impious to affirm the birth 
 of the Gods as to affirm their death; for in either 
 case it follows that there is a time when they do not 
 exist And under this topic falls the general rule of 
 assuming the result of either of two things to be in- 
 variably the same as that of the other, as in the 
 wmds " It is not about Isocrates but about a study 
 that you have to decide m deciding whether it is 
 right to practise philosophy." Similarly it map be 
 argued that the giving of earth and water is equiva- 
 lent to slavery and that participation in the 'general 
 peace is equivalent to allegiance to Alexander. How- 
 ever we may adopt whichever view suits us best. 
 
 moral line in his argument, we must prove the facts on which he 
 depends to be consistent with selfish expediency; if on the other 
 hand he argues from the view of expediency, we must contend for 
 the higher morality. 
 
 ^ See note on p. 99, 1. 10. 
 
 *^ "The general peace" was the treaty which the Greek states, 
 except the Lacedaemonians, made with Alexander after the 
 death of Philip in 336 b.c. 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 207 
 
 There is another topic depending upon the fact 
 that people do not always make the same choice at a 
 later as at an earlier time, but often reverse it. Take 
 e.g. the following enthymeme, ' " It will be monstrous 
 if during our expatriation we fought for our restora- 
 tion and, now that we are restored, shall be ex- 
 patriated rather than fight " ; the choice being in the 
 one case to remain at the cost of fighting and in the 
 other to avoid fighting at the cost of exile. 
 
 Another topic consists in treating the conceivable 
 as the actual reason of a thing existing or * having 
 come into existence, as in the supposition that a 
 person would make a present in order to inflict the 
 pain of taking it away. This is the spirit of the ^lines 
 
 "On some men Heaven in no favouring mood 
 Bestows large blessings that the after-ills 
 They shall sustain may be more palpable," 
 
 or the passage in the Meleager of Antiphon. 
 
 " Not for the slaughter of the boar 
 The heroes carne^ but to be witnesses 
 Of Meleager's bravery to Hellas," 
 
 or the argument in the Aja^ of Theodectes that 
 Diomedes *gave the preference to Odysseus not as 
 honouring him but in order that his companion might 
 
 ^ The words which follow are quoted, although incorrectly, 
 from a speech of Lysias in which the Athenians, who had been 
 restored after the expulsion of the Thirty in 403 b.c., are exhorted 
 not to submit to the dictation of the Lacedaemonians. It is en- 
 titled TTcpl rov fx^ KaraXva-ai rqv rrarpiov noXiTeiav *AOtjtnja-i. See 
 Mr Cope's note. 
 
 2 Changing et firf yivoiro to fj yevoiro, 
 
 3 The source of the quotation is unknown. 
 
 * In the episode known as the Aokavda. See Hiad x. 218, seq. 
 
 |r 
 
 'III 
 
 iii 
 
 / 
 
I 
 
 f 
 
 208 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [II. 
 
 be inferior to himself, this being a possible explanation 
 of his conduct. 
 
 There is another topic common to forensic and 
 deliberative oratory, viz. to consider the inducements 
 and discouragements and the motives of acting or 
 abstaining from action ; for these are the conditions, 
 the presence or the absence of which renders action 
 desirable or the reverse. It is to be considered e.g. 
 whether a thing is possible, easy and advantageous 
 either to oneself or to one's friends or wasteful and 
 detrimental to one's enemies or if the penalty is not 
 adequate to the deed. These are the materials of ex- 
 hortation, and their opposites of dissuasion. * They are 
 also the materials of accusation and defence, the in- 
 ducements of the former and the discouragements of 
 the latter. In fact it is this topic which constitutes the 
 whole rhetorical systems of Pamphilus and Callippus. 
 
 There is yet another topic in the case of things 
 which are supposed to happen but are difficult to 
 believe. It may he urged that people would not 
 have ''supposed these, had they not been true or 
 nearly true ; nay, that they are especially Ukehj to he 
 true, as everything believed is either actual or pro- 
 bable, and therefore, if a thing is hard to believe and 
 is not probable, it must be true, as at all events it is 
 not the probability or plausibility of it which is the 
 
 No doubt in the Ajax of Theodectes, there was a passage in w hicli 
 the prowess of Odysseus was rudely handled. Cp. p. 103, 11. 6—7. 
 
 1 The meaning is that an advocate may seek to prove guilt or 
 innocence by pointing to the causes which would naturally tend 
 to induce or to prevent criminality. 
 
 2 Perhaps tho^tv would be better than tboiav. 
 
 IP 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 209 
 
 n.] 
 
 reason of its being so supposed. There is an instance 
 of this in the remark of Androcles of Pitthus in his 
 declaration against the law. Being interrupted by 
 expressions of dissent at the words "The laws require 
 a law to set them right," he said "Yes, and so do fish 
 require salt, although it is neither likely nor plausible 
 that they should require it, as their life is spent in 
 the brine, and oil-cakes require oil, incredible as it is 
 that the things which supply oil should require it." 
 
 Another topic, which is proper to refutation, con- 
 sists in examining whether there is any contradiction 
 in the series of dates, actions or words, and this under 
 three separate heads, viz. firstly in reference to your 
 adversary, as e.g. if you can say, "Although he pre- 
 tends to be your friend, he took part in the con- 
 spiracy of the Thirty," secondly in reference to your- 
 self, as "Although he calls me litigious, it is beyond 
 his power to prove that I have ever been party to a 
 suit," thirdly in reference to yourself and your ad- 
 versary, as " While he has never lent you a farthhig, 
 there are actually many of you whom I have ran- 
 somed." 
 
 Another topic, where there is or appears to be a 
 prejudice against particular persons or things, is to 
 state the explanation of the circumstance which is un- 
 accountable, as there is always something which ac- 
 counts for the appearance. . . . Thus in the iliaa? 
 of Theodectes Odysseus explains to Ajax how it is that 
 he has not the reputation of being braver than Ajax, 
 although he is so. 
 
 Another topic consists in arguing from the presence 
 or absence of the cause the existence or non-ex- 
 
 w. R. ^^ 
 
 i 
 
 
 II 
 
i *\i 
 
 I I 
 
 ^M 
 
 210 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 istence of the effect ; for cause and effect go always 
 hand in hand, and there is nothing which has not a 
 cause. This was the point of ^Leodamas's defence, 
 when Thrasybulus had accused him of being one 
 whose name had been posted in the Acropolis and of 
 having erased it under the government of the Thirty. 
 This was impossible (said Leodamas) as the Thirty 
 would have been more disposed to trust him, if there 
 had been this record of his hostility to the people. 
 
 Another topic is to consider whether it was or is 
 possible to take a better course than that which the 
 person either recommends or takes or has taken in 
 action ; for if this course has not been taken, it is 
 evident that he has not done the deed, as nobody 
 voluntarily and intentionally chooses what is bad. 
 But in this there is a fallacy ; for it often happens 
 that the better method of action becomes evident 
 subsequently, but in the first instance was unknown. 
 
 Again, if an intended action is inconsistent with 
 some action already performed, there is another topic 
 which consists in viewing them side by side. Thus 
 when the inhabitants of Elea inquired of Xenophanes 
 whetlier they should sacrifice to ^Leucothea and 
 lament for her, he gave them as his advice, if they 
 regarded her as a goddess, not to lament, if as a 
 mortal, not to offer sacrifice. 
 
 1 The passage shows that before the era of the Thirty the name 
 of Leodamas, as an enemy of the people, had been inscribed on a 
 pillar in the Acropolis. See Mr Cope's note. 
 
 2 Ino the wife of Athamas, in a fit of madness threw herself 
 into the sea and became (as the story went) a sea goddess named 
 Leucothea. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 211 
 
 n.] 
 
 Another topic is to discover a ground of accu- 
 sation or defence in any mistake that has been made. 
 In the Medea of Carcinus for example, Medea is 
 accused of having murdered her children; at all 
 events (it is urged) they have disappeared, the fact 
 being that Medea made a mistake in sending her 
 children away; and Medea's reply is that it is not 
 her children but Jason whom she would have mur- 
 dered, as assuming her to have been capable of the 
 other crime, it would have been a mistake in her not 
 to have committed this. This is the topic or species 
 of enthymeme which constitutes the entire earlier 
 system of Theodorus. 
 
 Another topic is derivable from a play on names, 
 
 as in Sophocles 
 
 i'*Sidero, aye and rightly named," 
 
 or as is so common in panegyrics of the Gods or as 
 when Conon called Thrasybulus " rash counsellor " or 
 when Herodicus said to Thrasymaxjhus "You are ever 
 as brave as your name " or to Polus " You are always 
 colt by nature as by name" or of the legislator Draco, 
 that his laws are not the laws of a man but of a 
 dragon, alluding to their severity. So too Hecuba in 
 Euripides says of Aphrodite 
 
 2«w^ell may her name 
 Be first in folly," 
 
 1 A line from the Tyro of Sophocles. Sidero, "iron by name 
 and iron by nature," was Tyro's stepmother. 
 
 2 Troades 990. " ' A<|)po6trT; and d(t>po(rvin] have the first half 
 of the word in common" (Cope). 
 
 14—2 
 
V 
 
 \ 
 
 212 THE RHETORIC 
 
 or Chaeremon has the line 
 
 [II. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 213 
 
 Demonstra- 
 tive and re- 
 futative en> 
 thymemes. 
 
 ChaI 
 XXI?. 
 
 True and 
 appaMnt 
 enthy- 
 memes. 
 
 Topics of 
 apparent 
 enthy- 
 memes. 
 
 i-»-££^£\>^v 
 
 
 ^ " Pentheus, prophetic name of ill to come." 
 
 The reason why refutative enthymemes are more 
 popular than demonstrative is that a refutative enthy- 
 meme is a conclusion of opposites within a small 
 space and that things are rendered clearer to an 
 audience by juxtaposition. But of all refutative or 
 demonstrative syllogisms none are so much applauded 
 as those which are imderstood at once, not however 
 because they are superficial, as the audience are 
 pleased with themselves for anticipathi^the^con^ 
 cltiston, and those with wTiicTTwe can so nearly keep 
 pace as to understand them as soon as they are 
 stated. """" 
 
 As there may be true syllogisms and syllogisms 
 which are apparent but not true, it follows at once 
 that there are true and apparent enthymemes, be- 
 cause the enthymeme is a species of syllogism. 
 
 Among topics of apparent enthymemes the first 
 is that which arises from the use of language, and of 
 this there are two divisions. *The first is when, as in 
 Dialectic, we make a final statement as if it were 
 the conclusion of a syllogism without having gone 
 through the process of reasoning, saying, " It follows 
 that this is not so and so," or " It must therefore be 
 so and so"; similarly in enthymemes the use of a 
 
 * In allusion to the connexion of Hei/^ew with rreV^os. Cp. 
 Euripides Bacchae, 508. , 
 
 2 Reading, mainly after Vahlen, Koi tovtov Iu fiev fitpos, (Sanep 
 €V roU 8ia\€icTiKo7s to fi^ (rvXkoyi<TdiJ.€vov crvfnrfpaafiariKas to reXcv- 
 Tolov elne'iv, ovk apa to koi to, dvaytcrj dpa to koI to, koi iv toU fvOvfiij- 
 pua-t, TO <Tvv€aTpap.p,€v<ii>s koi avrt/cft/ieVwy ((Vdi/ (^tVrrat €v$vp.r]fia. 
 
 \ 
 
 1.--VA, 
 
 "vA-v I 
 
 '\ 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 compact and antithetical phrase has the appearance 
 of an enthymeme ; for language of this kind is the 
 province of enthymeme. It is apparently the style of 
 the language used which is the occasion of such fal- 
 lacies. But in order to give our language an air of 
 syllogistic reasoning it is useful to state the heads of 
 a large number of syllogisms, as " Some he saved ; the 
 others he aided ; he was the liberator of Greece" ; 
 for although the proof of these several assertions was 
 derived from other premisses, their combination ap- 
 pears to produce some new result Secondly, there is 
 the topic of * equivocation, as if one should assert that 
 the mouse is an estimable creature, * because it gives 
 its name to the most venerable of all religious rites, 
 viz. the mysteries, or if in a panegyric of a dog one 
 includes the heavenly dog, viz. the dogstar, or Pan, 
 because 'Pindar used the words 
 
 " Blessed deity 
 Whom the Olympians style the dog, 
 The manifold dog of the great Cybele," 
 
 or argues that, * as it is a great disgrace to have no 
 dog in the house, it is evident that a dog is honour- 
 able. Another instance is the argument that Hermes 
 is the most communicative of all the gods, as he is 
 
 1 The Aristotelian "homonyms" or " equivocables " are things 
 which have the same name. See Karr/yopiai i ch. 1 and cp. Quin- 
 tilian de Instit. Oral vii. ch. 9, § 2. 
 
 2 Polycrates wrote a panegyric of mice (p. 106, L 10) ; and m 
 it he must have dwelt upon the supposed etymological connexion 
 between p,vi (a mouse) and pvtrrripiov (a mystery). 
 
 3 The lines are a fragment of Pindar's lost Parthenia, 
 * Schrader is perhaps correct in supposing that there is a play 
 
 upon dogs and the dog-philosophers or CjTiics. 
 
 ! 
 
/ 
 
 ^i! 
 
 i< I 
 
 214 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [iiA 
 
 the only god who is called ^ " Common Hermes" ; or > 
 the argument that "accounts (\0709) are excellent 
 things, because it is not of money but of account 
 that good men are worthy, the phrase to be of account 
 (\6yov d^Lov ehai) being one that is capable of a 
 double meaning. 
 
 Another topic consists in combining what is sepa- 
 rate or separating what is combined ; for as a thing 
 appears the same when so treated, although it is 
 often not the same, we must represent it in whichever 
 way best serves our purpose. This is the favourite 
 argument of Enthydemus, e.g. Hhat he knows there is 
 a trireme in the Piraeus because he knows each of 
 two facts. A second instance is that anybody who 
 knows the letters knows the verse, as it is the same 
 thing. A third that, if a double portion of a certain 
 thing is baneful, the single portion too cannot be 
 wholesome, as it cannot be supposed that two good 
 things make one bad thing. While the topic, if put 
 in this way, is refutative, it is demonstrative, if put 
 
 ^ The connexion of KoivaviKos and koivos is not easily preserved 
 in English. " Common Hermes " or ** Hermes in common " {koivos 
 'Epfifjt) was a favourite expression of those who claimed to " go 
 shares" with someone in a treasure- trove (fp/xatov). 
 
 ^ \6yos has two senses (1) speech, (2) account or esteem ; but 
 there is no word which corresponds to it in English. 
 
 3 There is no more difficult passage in the Rhetoric than this. 
 If it be compared with Sophist. Blench, ch. 20, p. 177 B^ and 
 illustrated by Sophist. Blench, ch. 4, p. 166 A„_32, the inference 
 will, I think, be that the illicit combination lies in combining the 
 clauses "He knows (being) in the Piraeus" and " He knows there 
 is a trireme" into the single clause " He knows there is a trireme 
 in the Piraeus." 
 
 II.] 
 
 OF ABISTOTLE. 
 
 215 
 
 as follows, " One good thing cannot be made up of 
 two bad things." The whole topic however is M- 
 lacious. 'Again, we may instance the saying of Poly- 
 crates about Thrasybulus that he overthrew thirty 
 tyrants, where he uses combination, or the passage in 
 the Orestes of Theodectes, which illustrates division : 
 
 ""Tis just that whoso slays her husband die,' 
 " and it is just that a father's blood should be avenged 
 by his son ; well, this is exactly what has occurred. 
 But the argument is fcdlaciom, as, when the two 
 things are combined, it is very likely that the residt 
 wiU no longer be just This fallacy may also be 
 ascribed to omission, the name of the author of the 
 
 action being left out 
 
 Another topic is that of indignant asseveration 
 whether in a constructive or destructive sense, as 
 when, without having proved the perpetration of a 
 certain act, we exaggerate the horror of it ; for by so 
 doing we produce the impression either that the act 
 has not been perpetrated, if it is the defendant who 
 employs the exaggeration, or the reverse, if it is the 
 prosecutor who is in a passion. This then is no trm 
 enthymeme ; for the audience is only betrayed into con- 
 cluding that an act has or has not been perpetrated 
 without demonstrative proof having been oflfered. 
 Another topic is the use of a mere sign or single 
 
 1 The "combination" consists in representing the Thirty 
 Tyrants as being each the victim of Thrasyb.Uus ; the division 
 iftreating the murder of Clyt^mnestra by Orestes as sHnply a 
 iHf avenging a fethe.'s bloodshed or putting the murderer 
 Ther husbsid to death without considering the relationship 
 between the son who slays and the mother who is slam. 
 
 •I 
 
!.t 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
 216 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [it. 
 
 imtance as an argument, the conclusion here again 
 not being logically complete. Thus it might be 
 argued that lovers are of service to States, as it was 
 the love of 'Harmodius and Aristogeiton which over- 
 threw the tyrant Hipparchus ; or that "Dionysius is a 
 thief, because he is a bad man, such a conclusion 
 again being illogical, as all bad men are not thieves, 
 although all thieves are bad men. 
 
 There is another topic, dependent upon accidental 
 circumstances. We may take as an instance of this 
 the remark of Polycrates about the mice, that they 
 pve valuable aid 'by gnawing the bow-strings. Or 
 it might perhaps be urged that there is no com- 
 pliment so great as an invitation to dinner, as it was 
 *from not receiving an invitation that Achilles got 
 into a passion with the Achaeans at Tenedos ; whereas 
 the fact was that his passion was owing to his sense 
 of the dishonour that was done him, and it was only 
 an accident that this took the form of his not being 
 invited to dinner. 
 
 There is another topic, * which arises from the 
 consequence of an action. In the Alexander e.g. it 
 is argued that the hero was a man of elevated mind, 
 
 1 The story of Harniodius and Aristogeiton is told by Thucy- 
 dides vi. eh. 54 sqq. 
 
 2 The name of Pionysius is taken at random; it is not any 
 individual who is meant 
 
 3 Cp. Herodotus ii. ch. 141, whether this is or is not the inci- 
 dent which Aristotle had in mind. 
 
 * The reference is to a scene in a play of Sophocles. 
 
 ^ The topic consists in arguing from identity of effect to 
 identity of cause, whereas the same effect may be the result of 
 various causes. 
 
 II.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 217 
 
 I 
 
 because he disdained the society of numbers and 
 remained on Mount Ida by himself; for as this is 
 conduct natui-al to persons of elevated minds, he 
 would appear to possess such elevation. Again, it 
 may be argued that, because a person dresses well ^ 
 
 and goes out at night, he is a rake, such being the ()>r/>l 1^^^^ . 
 habits of rakes. Another argument of a similar kind 
 is that beggars sing and dance in the temples and 
 that exiles are allowed to live wherever they choose; 
 for as these are the characteristics of apparent happi- 
 ness, it may be supposed that anyone who possesses 
 them is happy. There is a difference however in the 
 manner of doing these things; and hence the topic 
 falls under the head of omission. 
 
 Another topic is to treat that which is not a cause 
 as the cause, because e.g. it has occurred simul- 
 taneously or subsequently ; for the sequel is here 
 assumed to be the effect, especially in public Ufe, as 
 when Demades pronounced the policy of Demosthenes 
 to be the cause of all the evils, because it was after it 
 that the war occurred. 
 
 There is another topic arising from the omission 
 of the time or manner, as when it is urged that 
 Alexander had a right to take Helen, because her 
 father allowed her her choice of a husband. This is 
 a fallacy ; for it was not, we must suppose, per- 
 petually but only at the first that the choice was 
 given her, as after the first choice the authority of 
 her father ceased. It would be a similar case, if one 
 were to say that to strike a free man is a wanton 
 insult ; for this is not the case universaUy, but only 
 when the striker is the aggressor. 
 
 i - 
 
M 
 
 « 
 
 I 
 
 218 THE RHETORIC [n. 
 
 Again, it is possible here, as well as in eristicaJ 
 discussions, to derive an apparent syllogism *from the 
 interchange of the absolute with that which is not 
 absolute but particular. Such a case in Dialectic is 
 the argument that the non-existent is; on the ground 
 that the non-existent is non-existent; or that the 
 unknown is knowable, because the unknown is known 
 to be unknown. Similarly in Rhetoric an apparent 
 enthymeme may be derived from a probability which 
 is not absolute but particular. This particular pro- 
 hability however is not universal, as indeed Agathon 
 says in the lines 
 
 "It may be one would call it probable 
 That many things improbable occur;" 
 
 for as what is contrary to probability sometimes oc- 
 curs, it follows that what is contrary to probability is 
 itself probable. This being so, the improbable will 
 be probable— 'not, however, probable in an absolute 
 sense. The truth is that, as in eristical discussions it 
 is by omitting the condition, relation and mode that 
 we create the deception, so here it is the probability 
 which is not absolute but particular that is the oc- 
 casion of the fallacy. It is this topic of which the 
 rhetorical system of Corax is composed. For if the 
 defendant is not liable to the charge brought against 
 him, if e.g. he is a feeble person and is charged with 
 assault and battery, he defends himself by pleading 
 the improbability of the case ; or if he is liable to it, 
 if e.g. it is a strong man against whom the charge is 
 
 1 The word "is" has two senses, one absolute, the other 
 relative or particular, in the following instances. 
 
 2 Changing the full stop after f tVoy to a comma. 
 
 
 n.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 219 
 
 brought, he too pleads the improbability of the case 
 on the ground that it was sure to seem probable. 
 The same rule holds equally in other cases. A person 
 must either be liable to a charge or not ; and this 
 being so, while both appear probable, in the one case 
 the probability is absolute, and in the other it is not 
 absolute but particular, as has been said. This m 
 fact is the meaning of converting the worse argument 
 into the better. Accordingly people were justified in 
 showing their disapproval of ^Protagoras's profession, 
 as it is a falsehood and not true but only apparent 
 probability and has no place in any art except Rhetoric 
 
 and Eristic. 
 
 So much then for enthymemes both real and 
 apparent The next subject to be treated is refutation. 
 
 There are two ways of refuting an argument, viz. 
 either by a counter-syllogism or by adducing an ob- 
 jection. It is clear that the counter-syllogisms may 
 be constructed out of the same topics as the syUo- 
 gisms of which we have spoken ; for it is the com- 
 mon opinions of the worid which form the materials 
 of syllogisms, and opinions are often contradictory. 
 Objections on the other hand, ^as in the Topics, 
 may be adduced in four different ways, viz. either 
 from the enthymeme of your adversary himself, or 
 from analogy, or from antithesis, or from a previous 
 
 d eci sion 
 
 As an instance of an objection derived from the 
 enthymeme of an adversary himself, let us suppose 
 
 1 Protagoras is said to have originated the theory that there 
 were two contradictory arguments possible on any subject 
 
 2 ToTTtKo, viii. ch. 10. 
 
 xvl, ^\Ar^-^ 
 
 p^ 
 
 ^y>X'vNAvT) ."^ 
 
 Reful 
 
 Methods of 
 refutation : 
 
 (1) Counter 
 syllogism; _ 
 
 \ \ — " 
 
 (2) Objec- 
 tion. 
 Four dif- 
 ferent kinds 
 of objection. 
 
 I 
 
 -r- M 
 
 
 in 
 
220 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 HI 
 
 fill 
 
 ill 
 
 [11. 
 
 that the subject of his eiithymeme is the virtue of love ; 
 then it may be objected either generally that love is 
 a craving and that every kind of craving is an evil, or 
 in particular that there would be no such proverb as 
 ^^^Caunian love,' unless there were evil forms of love 
 as well as good. It would he an objection derived 
 from antithesis, if the enthymeme were to show that 
 a good man is the benefactor of all his friends, and 
 it were objected that a bad man on the other hand 
 is not the enemy of all his friends. ^ It vmdd be an 
 objection from analogy, if the enthymeme were meant 
 to show that the victims of crime always cherish a 
 feeling of hatred, and it were objected that the re- 
 cipients of benefits on the other hand do not always 
 cherish a feeling of affection. Lastly, the decisions 
 to which I refer are those of eminent persons. Thus 
 if it were the point of an enthymeme that some 
 allowance shall be made for intoxicated people, as 
 they commit their offences in ignorance, it might be 
 objected that, if this is so, Pittacus deserves no 
 commendation, or he would not have ordained heavier 
 penalties for offences committed by a person in a 
 state of intoxication. 
 Materials of The materials of enthymemes are four, viz. proba- 
 memes: biUties, examples, demonstrations and signs^ They 
 are probabilities, when the conclusion is derived 
 from such facts as either are or are supposed to be 
 generally true ; examples, when it is reached 'by 
 
 1 The love of Byblis for her brother Caunus was a typical 
 instance of disastrous love. 
 
 2 This case is not really different from the preceding. 
 
 3 I should be glad to omit bC cVaywy^f. 
 
 / 
 
 II.] OF ARISTOTLE. 221 
 
 induction from an analogy of one or several instances, 
 the universal rule being first ascertained and the 
 particulars afterwards inferred from it ; demonstra- 
 tions, when it depends upon a rule which is necessary 
 and absolute ; signs, when upon general or particular 
 statements which may be either true or false. A CU^proba- 
 probability then being not an invariable but a general N. 
 rule, it is clear that enthymemes which are so con- \ 
 structed may invariably be refuted by an objection, 
 although the refutation is apparent and not real ; 
 for it is not the probability but only the necessity 
 of tbe^gponent's case which is disproved by the 
 ol^fection alleged. Hence this fallacy always offers an 
 opportunity of gaining an unfair advantage in defence 
 rather than in accusation. For the accuser employs 
 probabilities as his means of proof ; but there is a 
 difference between disproving the necessity and dis- 
 proving the probability of a case, and a general rule, 
 if it is to be only probable and not invariable and 
 necessary, must always admit of objections. Yet if 
 once the necessity of a thing has been disproved, the 
 audience assume either that it is not probable or that 
 they have no business to decide it ; although, as I 
 said, their conclusion is wrong, as their decision 
 ought to rest upon probabilities as well as upon 
 necessary truths, such being the meaning of the 
 words " to decide according to the best of our judg- 
 ment." Hence it is_iiot_enough for Jhe defendant 
 to prove that a thing is not necessary ; he needs_to 
 disprove its probability. But this will be done only 
 iPOie objection is more generally true than the fact 
 objected to ; and it may be more generally true in 
 
Ill 
 
 >lli 
 
 I 
 
 ; 
 
 (2) signs. 
 
 pp. 18, 19. 
 
 (3) exam- 
 ples. 
 
 V 
 
 (4) demon- 
 strations. 
 
 ! 
 
 222 THE RHETORIC [ll. 
 
 respect either of time or of the circumstances of the 
 case, although it will be most convincing, if it is so 
 in both these respects ; for if the majority of cases 
 are in our favour, the balance of probability is on 
 our side. 
 
 Signs however and the enthymemes which are 
 based upon them admit of refutation, even if true, 
 as I said at the outset ; for we saw in the ^Analytics 
 that fallible signs are always inconclusive. 
 
 Enthymemes depending upon examples may be 
 refuted in the same way as probabilities ; *for a 
 single contrary instance disproves at once the ne- 
 cessity of a thing, even although the majority of cases 
 are on the other side ; but if the majority of cases 
 make in favour of our opponent, we must contend 
 that the present case is not similar to them in nature 
 or conditions, or at least presents certain points of 
 difference. 
 
 Demonstrations on the other hand and the corre- 
 sponding enthymemes cannot be refuted on the ground 
 I of inconclusiveness, as we saw in the ^AiwdyticSy 
 and there is no resource left us except to disprove 
 / the fact 
 
 If however there is no doubt about the fact or 
 about its being a demonstration, the case is one 
 which does not admit of refutation, as here each step 
 is demonstratively proved. 
 
 ^ Analyt. Prior, ii. ch. 27 ; cp. Rhet. i. ch. 2. 
 
 2 Reading as Mr Cope, iav t< yap f;^a)/iev n ov\ 0VT<0y XeXvrai, 
 ort ovK dvayxatov, ci kuI 7r\tia> ^ TrXfovcucis oXXcos* eav rt koL TrXcto) 
 Koi ra likfovoKis ovra, fiaxtriov rj ort ic.rA. 
 
 * Analyt. Prior, ii. ch. 27. 
 
 II.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 22^^ --\ 
 
 Exaggeration and depreciation is not an elemei^t ^^ 
 of an enthymeme. An element is in my view the^Es^^- 
 same thing as a topic, being a head under which a depr^ia- 
 number of enthymemes fall. Exaggeration and de- '''''' 
 preciation are rather enthymemes tending to show 
 that a certain thing is great or small, as there are 
 other enthymemes showing that it is good or bad, 
 just or unjust, and so on. All these being the sub- 
 jects of syllogisms and enthymemes, it follows that, 
 if none is a topic of an enthymeme, neither is ex- 
 aggeration and depreciation such a topic. Again, ^ft^ative 
 refiitative enthymemes do not form a species distinct memes. 
 from constructive. For it is clear that refutation 
 consists either in urging positive proof or in adducing 
 an objection. In the first case we prove the opposite 
 of our adversary's statetnent; I mean that, if he has 
 proved a particidar thing to have occurred, we prove 
 the opposite and vice versa. The distinction then 
 cannot lie here ; for the same means are common 
 to both, as in both enthymemes are advanced either 
 to disprove a fact or to prove it. An objection on objections. 
 the other hand is not an enthymeme but as in the 
 Topics the mere statement of an opinion intended 
 to show that the reasoning of our opponent is incon- 
 clusive, or that there has been something false in his 
 assumptions. 
 
 Now there are three proper subjects of study in 
 regard to speech ; and the remarks we have made 
 may suffice for the means of discovering or refuting 
 examples, maxims, enthymemes and the inyenliye 
 part of Rhetoric generally. We have still however 
 to consider stvleand a rrangement. 
 
 I 
 
 T 
 
^1 }■■ 
 
 ( 
 
 
 2- 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Chap. I. There being three proper subjects of systematic 
 
 Ji!bjwt^f a treatment in Rhetoric, viz. (1) the possible sources of 
 
 t^tise?^ proofs (2) style and (3) the right ordering of the 
 
 parts of the speech, the first of these has been already 
 
 discussed. We have ascertained the number of the 
 
 sources of proofs, which are three, the nature of 
 
 these sources, and the reason why they are not more 
 
 numerous, viz. that persuasion is invariably effected 
 
 either by producing a certain emotion in the audience 
 
 itself or by inspiring the audience with a certain 
 
 conception of the character of the speaker or thirdly 
 
 by positive demonstration. The sources from which 
 
 pp. 191 sqq. enthymemes are to be derived have also been stated ; 
 
 for these are both special and common topics of 
 
 stylo. enthymemes. We have next to discuss the question 
 
 of style, as it is not enough to know what to say 
 
 but js necessary also to know how to say it, and 
 
 the art of saying things is largely influential in 
 
 imparting a certain colour to the speech. 
 
 The first point which was naturally the subject of 
 investigation is that which is first in the natural order, 
 viz. the sources from which facts themselves derive 
 
 / 
 
 \ 
 
 HI.] 
 
 THE RHETORIC OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 225 
 
 (^2^ 
 
 their persuasiveness, the second is the disposition 
 or setting out of the facts by the style, and the third, 
 which has never yet been attempted, although it has 
 the greatest weight, is the art of Reclamation. Nor is Deciama 
 it surprising that declamation should Jmve been 
 neglected; for it has only lately been introduced into 
 the tragic art and rhapsody, as poets were them- 
 selves originally the declaimers of their own tragedies. 
 It is clear then that there is such a thing as an art 
 of declamation in Rhetoric as well as in Poetry; 
 and indeed it has been systematically treated by 
 Glaucon of Teos among others. ^The art consists 
 in understanding (1) the proper use of the voice 
 for the expression of the several emotions, i.e. when 
 it should be loud or low or intermediate, (2) the 
 proper use of the accents, M.e. when the tone should 
 be acute or grave or intermediate, and (3) the rhythms 
 suitable to each emotion. For there are three 
 things which are matters of such investigations, 
 viz. magnitude or volume of sound, harmony and 
 rhythm. It is people who are careful about these 
 that generally carry off* the prizes in the dramatic 
 
 1 Aristotle uses vrroKpiais in a limited sense, confining it, as 
 he says below, to the management of the voice and especially 
 excluding delivery or gesticulation, which is treated as a part of 
 viroKpiais by Longinus and as a part of actio by Cicero and 
 Quintilian. 
 
 ^ Reading avrrj. 
 
 3 The "intermediate" or "middle" accent is the circumflex, 
 which may be regarded as a combination of the others. It is 
 clear that each accent marks a particular tone of voice, and that 
 the rhetorical harmony {apfiovia) consists in a due variation of 
 the tones. 
 
 W. R. 15 
 
 ^) 
 
i i 
 
 pp. 5, 113. 
 
 226 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 \ 
 
 The art of 
 rhetorical 
 declama- 
 tion. 
 
 [m. 
 
 and rhapsodical competitions, and as in such 
 competitions the influence of the declaimers or 
 actors is greater now-a-days than that of the poets, 
 so is it also in political competitions owing to the 
 depraved character of our polities. But up to the 
 present time no scientific treatise upon declamation 
 has been composed; for it was not till a late date 
 that the art of style itself made any progress, and decla- 
 mation is still ^popularly consider ed, and indeed is 
 rightly supposed, to be something vulga r. Still as 
 the entire study of Rhetoric has regard to appear- 
 ance, it is necessary to pay due attention to decla- 
 mation, not that it is right to do so but because it is 
 inevitable. Strict justice indeed, if applicable to 
 Rhetoric, would confine itself to seeking such a de- 
 livery as would cause neither pain nor pleasure. For 
 the right condition is that the battle should be fought 
 out on the facts of the case alone; and therefore 
 everything outside the direct proof is really super- 
 fluous, although extraneous matters are highly efiec- 
 tive, as has been said, owing to the depravedcharac- 
 teriif-the-audifincfi,. JJevertheless attention tos^e 
 is in some slight degree necessary in every kind 
 of instruction, as the manner of stating a fact has 
 some efiect upon the lucidity of the explanation. 
 Still the difference is not so great as is supposed; 
 these tricks of style are all merely pretentious and 
 are assumed for the sake of gratifying the audience, 
 and accord ingly nobo dx_tea ches geometrv after this 
 
 fashion. 
 
 The art of declamation, when it comes into vogue, 
 will produce the same effects as the histrionic art; 
 
 ^ 
 
 » O-C oL^ 
 
 cJLa^ ^\X-^<-U>^ 
 
 C' 
 
 < t-'V/*--0 
 
 fi,,^,^ 'XjLsu^ (t_c l\ V t^ 
 
 V 
 
 vww^-fOC 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 and there are some writers, e.g. Thrasymachus in 
 his Rules of Pathos (eXeoO, who have in a slight 
 measure attempted to treat it. The truth is that 
 a capacity for declaiming or acting is a natural gift,,, 
 comparatively free from artistic regulations, although ^ 
 it may be reduced to an art in its application to 
 style. Hence it is that people who possess this 
 faculty, viz. tlie faculty of a histrionic style, are the 
 winners of prizes in their day, as are also rhetoricaK**^'^^^ 
 actors; for Mn written speeches the style is more 
 effective than the thought. .^ 
 
 The origin of this style was due, as is natural, to H'storyof 
 the poets. For not only are all names imitations, but 
 there was the human voice, which is the most imi- 
 tative of all our members, ready to their use. Thus 
 it was that the various arts, rhapsody, the histrionic 
 art and others, as I need not say, were composed. 
 And it was because the poets were thought, despite 
 the simplicity of their sentiments, to have acquired 
 their reputation by their style that prose style as- 
 sumed at first a poetical form, as e.g. ''the style of 
 Gorgias. Nay even at the present time it is the 
 opinion of most uneducated people that a poetical 
 style is the finest This however is an erroneous idea, 
 the styles of prose and of poetry being distinct, as I 
 is shown by the fact that the writers of tragedies 
 
 * The reference is to the epideictic style of orators, in which 
 the speeches were more usually written than delivered. 
 
 2 Dr Thompson has excellently shown the poetical nature of 
 Gorgias's style in the Appendix to his edition of Plato's Gorgias 
 pp. 176 sqq. 
 
 I' 
 
 
 t»^ vv; 
 
 cJOuhX^^ 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
 15—2 
 
 ^- 
 
 lA-\ 
 
 U.>-V-WC-£| 4 ^io^^--^'^-^-^^^ 
 
I' 
 
 r /\'"\5' • 
 
 Chap. II. 
 
 Virtues or 
 graces of 
 styl& 
 
 III 
 
 228 THE RHETORIC [lH. 
 
 themselves have ceased to use the poetical style as 
 once they did, and that, as they passed from the 
 tetrameter to the iambic measure as being the metre 
 which bears the closest resemblance to prose, so too 
 they have abandoned all such words as depart 
 from the usage of ordinary conversation and were 
 employed as ornaments by earlier dramatic writers 
 and are still so employed by the writers of hexameter 
 versa It is absurd then to imitate those who them- 
 selves no longer employ their old style. 
 
 It clearly results from all this that we should 
 be wrong in entering upon a minute discussion of all 
 the possible points of style, and that we must confine 
 ourselves to those of rlietorkal style, which is now 
 under our consideration. The other or poetical style 
 has been discussed in my treatise on Poetry. 
 
 We may rest content then with our study of 
 that question, and may take it as settled that 
 one vi rtue of style is perspicuity. There is an evi- 
 IcIenSe of this in the fact that our speech, unless it 
 Imakes its meaning clear, will fail to perfonn its 
 (proper function. * Again, style should be neither 
 mean nor exaggerated, but appropriate ; for a poetical 
 style, although possibly not mean, is still not appro- 
 priate to prose. Among nouns and verbs, while 
 perspicuity is produced by such as are proper or 
 iisualy a character which is not mean but ornate is 
 the result of the various other kinds of nouns enu- 
 
 ^ The sentence (n^ynXov yap on 6 \6yoi to iavrov tpyov is 
 
 parenthetical and should be marked off from the context by 
 colons. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 229 
 
 v^ 
 
 III.] 
 
 merated in my 'treatise on Poetry. The reason is 
 that such variation imparts greater dignity to style ; 
 for people have the same feeling about style as about 
 foreigners in comparison with their fellow-citizens, 
 le. they admire most what they Jcnow least. Hence 
 it is proper to invest the language with a foreign air, 
 as we all admTrTany thing which is out of the way, 
 and'there is a certain pleasure in the object of 
 wonder. It is true that in metrical compositions there 
 are many means of producing this effect, and means 
 which are suitable in such compositions, as the 
 subjects of the story, whether persons or things, 
 are further removed /rom common life. But in prose 
 (these meansjmust be used much more sparingly, 
 as the theme of a prose composition is less elevated. 
 For in poetry itself there would be a breach of pro- 
 priety, if the fine language were used by a slave or a 
 mere infant or on a subject of extremely small im- 
 portance. It is rather in a due contraction and 
 exaggeration that propriety consists even in poetry. 
 Hence it is necessary to disguise the means employed, 
 and to avoid the appearance of speaking not natu- 
 rally, but artificially. For naturalness is persuasive, x 
 and artificiality the reverse ; for people take offence \ 
 at an artificial speaker, as if he were practising a I 
 design upon them, in the same way as they take/ 
 offence at mixed wines. Th£ difference is much the 
 same as between the voice of * Theodorus and those 
 
 1 Poetic cli.2\, . 
 
 2 Theodonis was a famous tragic actor, of whom a story is 
 told in the Politics iv (vii) p. 129 U. 8 sqq. (p. 220 of my Trans- 
 lation). 
 
 f 
 
 4 
 
 % 
 
11 
 
 \i 
 
 ll 
 
 "Words. 
 
 ,J 
 
 V>.G>^ 
 
 aJj^^^ 
 
 «' 
 
 vc 
 
 230 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 of all the other actors ; for, while his appears to be 
 the speaker's own voice, theirs have the appearance 
 of being assumed. But the deception which we have 
 in view is successfully effected, if words are chosen 
 from ordinary parlance and combined, as is the 
 practice of Euripides and indeed is the practice of 
 which he was the first to set an example. 
 
 Nouns and verbs being the component parts of 
 the speech and the nouns being of all the various 
 kinds which have been considered in my Hreatise on 
 Poetry^ it is only seldom and in few places that we 
 must make use of *rare or foreign words, 'compoimd 
 words or words specially invented for the occasion. 
 The question where they should be used we will 
 discuss at a later time; the reason for using them 
 but rarely has been already stated, viz. that they 
 constitute too wide a departure from propriety. It ia- 
 only the ^proper and the special name of a thing and 
 the metaphor that are suited to the style of prose 
 composition. We may infer this from the fact that 
 these alone are of universal use, as everyone in con- 
 versation uses metaphors and the special or proper 
 
 1 Poetic ch. 21. 
 
 2 Although in the Poetic, ch. 21, p. 172, 1. 19, Aristotle says 
 Xf'ya) 5c Kvpiov fi€V <S ;cpG)i'rat «aoTOt yXmrrap 8f ^ rrfpoi, it 18 
 clear that in the Rhetoric he includes rare and obsolete as well 
 as foreign words under the general term yXwrrat. See the 
 instances given p. 116, 11. 13 sqq. 
 
 ' That bnika opofiara are "compound words" is clear from ch. 3 
 in init. p. 116, 11. 4 sqq. Cp. Poetic, ch. 21, p. 172, 11. 11—14. 
 
 * There seems to be practically no difference in meaning 
 between "proper" and ''special" names; they are the names em- 
 ployed in ordinary speech. • > / Ct C 
 
 '€r-\"^ 
 
 ^/-■-Vm-"'- 
 
 -'"Uu^.- 
 
 Owv- 
 
 .-V'-f»- "• v— -o 
 
 ^ ^VV^JtX>(WJ^^/^W 
 
 •L- 0^-^°--^ ^ 
 
 V 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 231 
 
 names of things. It is clear therefore that successful I 
 composition will have an air of novelty without I 
 betraying its art and a character of lucidity, and these, \ 
 as we have seen, are the virtues of rhetorical speech. y\2,». 
 Among nouns, while i t is 'homonym ous nouns, i.e. 
 wordsw hich luive severa l mmnhujs, that are service- 
 able to a sophist, as bfeiiig the instrumentTW^^l 
 deceUUuii, it m"6 ynonyms which are serviceable to a 
 p^ As an instance of proper and synonymous 
 words I may mention e.g. " going " and « proceedmg ; 
 for these are both proper and also synonymous. 
 
 The nature of these several terms, the number ot 
 kinds of "metaphor, and the extreme importance of 
 metaphor, both in poetry and in prose, are^matters 
 which have been discussed, as we said, in the 'treatise 
 on Poetry. But they deserve the 'more diligent 
 attention in prose in proportion as prose is dependent 
 upon a smaller number of aids than metrical com- 
 position. Perspicuity, too, pleasure and an air of Metaphor. 
 strangeness are in an especial sense conveyed by 
 means of metaphor, and for his metaphors a speaker 
 must depend upon his own originaUty. The epithete 
 and metaphors used must alike be appropnate, and 
 
 • Aristotle's owu definitions of a "homonym" and a "synonym" 
 wiU explain his meaning here: ip5n,K<. X/yerm £•> ivo/.a ,.om,v 
 Koiyiv, i hi Korh roivoy^a Xiyot r?. oi<riat ?«pos...<rwa,«-/«. 8« 
 \,y,T<u iv TO « 'ovo^ Koiphv Koi i Kari ToUvoiia \6yos rt,, ov<nas o 
 avTos. KaTTfyopiai 1. 
 
 ' Retaining /i»Ta<^opar. 
 
 3 There is no discussion of synonyms in the Poetic, perhaps, 
 ,vs Schmidt suggeste, because the book in its present form is more 
 or less imperfect 
 
 * Reading Toaourm. 
 
 
 e T I ^ 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 -p^ a -. ^-^^ 
 
 -T '^ f f-^ 
 
 'Ka/^-M-^ 
 
 ( 
 
 232 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 III: 
 
 i 
 
 |1 
 
 [ill. 
 
 the appropriateness will arise from * proportion or 
 analogy; otherwise there will be a glaring impro- 
 priety, as the contrariety of contraries is rendered 
 most evident by juxtaposition. It is our business on 
 the contrary to consider, as a scarlet robe is becoming 
 to a young man, what it is that is becoming to an old 
 man ; for the same dress is not appropriate to both. 
 Propriety in Again, if it is your wish to adorn a subject, the proper 
 
 the use of • x v a i j? ii • 
 
 metaphors, mcaus IS to Dorrow your metaphor from thnigs 
 superior to it which fall under the same genus ; if to 
 disparage it, from such things as are inferior. An 
 instance of this, as contraries fall under the same 
 .^enus, is to describe one who begs as a suppliant and 
 -"^^y to describe one who prays as a beggar, prayhig and 
 ^M^y^ begging being both forms of request. It was thus 
 ^ that Iphicrates called Callias a 'mendicant priest in- 
 
 stead of a torchbearer in the Mysteries, and Callias 
 replied that he could never have been initiated or he 
 would not have made such a mistake. The fact is 
 that both are offices of divine worship, but the one is 
 an honourable office and the other an ignoble one. 
 Again, while somebody calls actors mere ^parasites of 
 
 ^ Proportion or analogy (to avoKoyov) in the choice of epithets 
 implies that they agree in meaning with the words to which they 
 belong, and in the choice of metaphors that there is no incon- 
 gruity or confusion in the transference of ideas. See Mr Cope*8 
 note. 
 
 2 The dadovxla was a high hereditary office in the ritual of the 
 Eleusinian Demeter. A firjTpayvpTrjs^ on the other hand, was no 
 better than a begging friar who collected alms at the festival of 
 Cybele or some other deity. See Lobeck Aglaophamm^ p. 629. 
 
 ' "Parasites of Dionysus", i.e. hangers-on of the god who was 
 the presiding deity of the drama. It is to be noticed that the 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 233 
 
 III,] 
 
 Dionysus, they call themselves artists; both these 
 terms are metaphorical, but one is defamatory and 
 the other the contrary. Again, pirates now-a-days 
 style themselves purveyors; and by the same rule 
 one may describe crime as error, error as crime and 
 stealing as either taking or plundering. Such a 
 phrase as that of Telephus in Euripides 
 
 " Lord of the oar and setting forth to Mysia" 
 
 is a breach of propriety, as the word " lording " is too 
 pompous for the subject, and accordingly the 'de- 
 ception is unsuccessful. A mistake may be made 
 too in the mere syllables of a word, if they are not 
 significant of sweetness in a voice. It is thus that 
 Dionysius the 'Brazen in his elegies calls poetry 
 "Calliope's screeching," as both poetry and screaking 
 are voices or sounds; but his metaphor is only a 
 sorry one, as the sounds of screeching, unlike poetical 
 sounds, possess no meaning. Again, the metaphors 
 should not be far-fetched, but derived from cognate 
 smdhomogeneous subjects, giving a name to some- 
 thing which before was nameless, and manifesting 
 
 Aristotelian use of fieracpopa is considerably wider than that of 
 *• metaphor" in English. Any transference of a word from its^ 
 proper or ordinary application to another would be a /iera(|>opa, 
 whether it involved a comparison or not. See the definition given 
 in Poetic^, 21,p. 172, H. 22—25, and the illustrations of it which 
 follow; also Mr Copers Introduction, Appendix b to Book iii. 
 
 1 "the deception," i.e. the concealment of art wliich the 
 speaker or writer has in view. See p. 1 13, 11. 1 1 and 24. 
 
 2 Dionysius, an Athenian rhetorician of the 5th century B.C., is 
 said by Athenaeus {Deipn. xv. p. 669 d) to have received the name 
 or nickname of "the Brazen", as having first suggested the use of 
 bronze money. 
 
fiK 
 
 \m 
 
 234 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 their cognate character as soon as they are uttered. 
 There is a metaphor of this kind in the popular 
 enigma 
 
 ^"A man on a man gluing bronze by the aid of fire I discovered", 
 
 for the particular process was nameless, but, as both 
 processes are kinds of application, the author of the 
 enigma described the application of the cupping-glass 
 as gluing. It is generally possible in fact to derive 
 good metaphors from well-constructed enigmas; for 
 as every metaphor conveys an enigma, it is clear that 
 a metaphor derived from a good enigma is a good 
 one. Again, a metaphor should be derived from 
 something beautiful, and the beauty of a noun, as 
 Licymnius says, and similarly its ugliness, resides 
 either in the sound or in the sense. There is a third 
 point to be observed in regard to metaphors, which 
 upsets the sophistical theory. For it is not true, as 
 Bryson said, that there is no such thing as the use of 
 foul language, because, whether you say one thing or 
 another, your meaning is the same. For one word is 
 more properly applicable to a thing than another and 
 more closely assimilated to it and more akin to it, as 
 setting the thing itself morfijiyidly before our eyes. 
 Nor again is it ^underuie same conditions that a 
 word signifies this or that, and hence on this ground 
 
 1 Athenaeus (Deipn. x. p. 452 c.) gives the second line of the 
 enigma or riddle thus : 
 
 ovro) ovyjcoXXwy eSorr* avvaifia noitli^. 
 
 2 The difference seems to be that, although two words or ex- 
 pressions may have practically the same meaning, yet one may 
 suggest widely different associations from the other. 
 
 ' 1 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 235 
 
 III.] 
 
 alone we must regard one word as being fairer 
 or fouler than another; for although both words 
 signify the fairness or foulness of a thing, it is not 
 merely in respect of its fainiess or foulness that they 
 signify it, or, if so, at least they signify it in different 
 degrees. The sources from which metaphors should sour^s^o^ 
 be derived are such things as are beautiful either m 
 sound or in suggestiveness or in the vividness with 
 which they appeal to the eye or any other sense. 
 Again, one form of expression is preferable to another 
 e.g. "rosy-fingered dawn" to "purple-fingered," while 
 "red-fingered" is worst of all. In regard to ^epithets Epithets. 
 again, the applications of them may be derived from 
 a low or foul aspect of things^ as when Orestes is 
 called a matricide, or from the higher aspect, as tvJien 
 he is called the avenger of his father. Tlwre ts a 
 simUar imtance in the story of Sinaonideswho^when 
 the victor in the mule-race offered him only a poor 
 fee^ refused to compose an ode, pretending to be 
 shocked atlhTiSeaTof composing^ on "semi-asses," 
 but on receipt of a proper fee_wrote«7i6 oe^e 66- 
 
 ginning 
 
 "^ " Hail ! daughters of storm-footed mares,'' 
 
 although they were equally daughters of the asses. 
 The same result may be attained by the use of 
 diminutives. 'By a diminutive I mean that which 
 
 1 Aristotle uses €7ri0€Tov to denote any word or words 
 describing or characterizing a "proper noun," not merely a single 
 adjective, as the English "epithet." 
 
 2 {;noKopiafi6, may properly be rendered in this place by the 
 neutral word "diminutive," but it would not ordinarily mclude 
 such diminutives as are of a depreciatory or censorious character. 
 
\\ 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 f 
 
 ll 
 
 'll 
 
 OJ . \iK^*cC — 
 
 '/ 
 
 L/^ 
 
 '] ^CLLl^±y^ 
 
 236 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [hi. 
 
 diminishes either the good or the evil of a word, and 
 I may cite as instances the banter of Aristophanes in 
 the Babylonians where he substitutes "goldlet" {xP^~ 
 acBdpiop) for gold, "tunickin " (IfiaTiBdpcov) for tunic, 
 "wee little censure" {XoiBoprj^idTiov) for censure, and 
 "sickiness" {voarffiaTiov) for sickness. But in the 
 use both of epithets and of diminutives it is necessary 
 to be cautious and never to lose sight of the mean. 
 
 Faults of taste occur in four points of style. Firstly , 
 in the juse of compound words, such as Lycophron's 
 " many^isaged heaven," "vast-crested earth," and 
 "narrow-passaged strand," or Gorgias's expressions, 
 " a beggar- witted toady," or " forsworn and ^ forever- 
 sworn." There are instances too in Alcidamas, e.g. 
 "his soul with passion teeming and his face fire- 
 ^^^ painted seeming," or "he thought their zeal would 
 ^rtiui ^ 2^-9 P^^^® end-executing," or "his words' persuasiveness 
 'jT^^. _ he made end-executing," or "steel-gray the ocean's 
 ^^^^ tvot basement;" for all these are terms which, as being 
 ^ T^i^^^^*"^ compound, have a certain poetical character. A seco nd 
 ^^\^^^\^-^ c cause of faults of taste is the use of rare words, as 
 .P ^ when~Xycophron called Xerxes " a vasty man,'' and 
 
 Chap. Ill 
 
 Faults of 
 taste 
 
 
 r\^ 
 
 n 
 
 Sciron "a man of bale," or when Alcidamas said 
 " baubles in poetry," " the retchlessness of his nature," 
 and "Vhetted with his mind's unadulterated ire. " A 
 third fault lies in the misuse of epithets, i.e. in making 
 them either long or unseasonable or very numerous. 
 
 ^ It is apparently the compound KartvopKijoravTas which is ob- 
 jectionable, as the simpler form evopKrjaamras would express the 
 meaning. 
 
 ^ The yXarra here, as Mr Cope says, is the word TfOrjyiiivov, 
 which is rare and generally poetical in its usage. 
 
 y 
 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 237 
 
 III.] 
 
 For if in poetry it is proper to speak e.g. of " white 
 milk," such epithets in prose are in any case inappro- 
 priate, and, if there are too many of them, they expose 
 the art of the style and show it to be simple poetry. 
 I do not say that epithets should not be used, as they 
 are means of diversifying the ordinary style and giving 
 the language a certain air of strangeness. But it is 
 important to keep the mean ever in view, as ex- 
 aggeration is worse in its effect than carelessness ; 
 for while in the latter there is only the absence of a 
 merit, in the former there is a positive defect. Hence 
 the epithets of Alcidamas appear tasteless, being so 
 numerous and prolix and obtrusive as to be used not 
 like a seasoning of the meat so much as like the meat 
 itself. He says e.g. not " sweat" simply but " the 
 damp sweat," not "to the Isthmian games" but "to 
 the general assembly of the Isthmian games," not 
 "laws" but "laws the sovereigns of states," not "by 
 running" but " with the hnpulse of his soul at a run," 
 not " a museum" but "a museum of all Nature that 
 he had inherited." Again, h^ says "the thought of 
 his soul sullen-visaged," "artificer" not "of favour 
 but "of universal favour," "steward of the pleasure 
 of his audience," "concealed" not " with boughs " but 
 " with the boughs of the wood," " he clothed " not 
 "his body" but "his body's shame," "his soul's am- 
 bition counterfeit" (ai/Tt>./i09)-a word which is at 
 the same time a compound and an epithet, so that 
 the prose is converted into poetry-and " the excess 
 of his villainy so abnormal." The consequence is 
 that this poetical diction by its impropriety is a source 
 of absurdity and tastelessness as weU as of obscunty 
 
II 
 
 COl/v^'^SV\ 
 
 N"i 
 
 f 
 
 4 
 
 p. 228. 
 
 m 
 
 238 THE RHETORIC [ill, 
 
 from its verbiage ; for any speak er who accumulates 
 words, where the audie nce is already cognizant of 
 the sub ject on wh ich he is speaking, involves it in an 
 obscurity which is fatal to distinctness.^ People for 
 the most part only use compound words when what 
 they want to express is destitute of a name and the 
 word they use is easily compounded, as e.g. pastime 
 (XpovoTpL0€lv) ; if this is overdone, the effect is wholly 
 poetical. Hence it is that compound words are 
 eminently serviceable to dithyrambic poets, whose 
 style is noisy ; rare words to epic poets, as epic 
 poetry is a stately and austere style of composition ; 
 and metaphors to iambic writers, for the iambic is 
 now the vehicle of tragic poetin/, as I have remarked. 
 There is a fourth and last fault of taste which is 
 shown in the use oTl hetaphors ; for metaphors too 
 may be inappropriate, whether from their absurdity — 
 for they are used by comic as well as by tragic poets 
 — or from an excess of dignity and tragic effect, or 
 again they may be obscure, if they are far-fetched. 
 Take e.g. such expressions as Gorgias's, " a business 
 green and raw" (a case of obscurity), or "you sowed 
 in shame and reaped in misery," which is too poetical, 
 or Alcidamas*s description of philosophy as ** an out- 
 post against the laws," and of the Odyssey as " a fair 
 mirror of human life," or his phrase " importing no 
 such bauble into poetry," all which for the reasons 
 stated fail in persuasiveness. Gorgias's address to 
 the swallow, when she dropped her leavings on his 
 head, is in the best style of tragic diction, "For 
 shame," he said, "Philomela." The point is that it 
 was not a shame to a bird to have behaved so, but it 
 
 A 
 
 III.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 239 
 
 was to a maiden. It was a happy thought then in 
 his censure to speak of her as she was rather than as 
 
 she is. 
 
 The simile too is a metaphor, the difference be- chap. iv. 
 
 tween them being only slight. Thus when Hom^r «-^i- 
 
 says of Achilles that* "he rushed on like a lion," 
 
 it is a simile; but when he says that "he rushed 
 
 on, a very lion," it is a metaphor, for here, as valour 
 
 is an attribute common to both, he transfers to 
 
 Achilles the metaphorical appellation of "a lion." 
 
 The simile is usefiil in prose as well as in poetry, 
 
 al ^gh it should not be employed except sp anng- 
 
 i£;. r ^ y.a. n"pr.of inal charact^l . The usi^fsimiles 
 
 m^t be much the same as that of metaphors ; for 
 
 they are metaphors, but with the difference already 
 
 An instance of a simile is e.g. that which Andro- 
 tion applied to Idrieus when he said that he re- 
 sembled curs which have been just unchained; for 
 they fly at you and bite you, and so Idrieus was 
 vicious when just unchained. Another is Theoda- 
 mas's comparison of ''Archidamus to Euxenus minm 
 his knowledge of geometry ; which is a ^proportional 
 simile, for viee versa Euxenus will be Archidamus 
 plus his geometrical knowledge. Another is the ex- 
 pression in the 'Republic of Plato that people who 
 
 1 The words quoted are not found in the existing poems of 
 Homer, but for the simile see lUadj xx. 164. 
 
 « Euxenus and Archidamus are unknown, except from this 
 
 ^^^he "proportionar' or "reciprocal" metaphor is illustrated 
 in the Poetic, ch. 21, p. 173, 11. 1 sqq. See infra 1. 29, p. 132, L 3. 
 * Republic, v. p. 469 d.b. 
 
h 
 
 240 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 despoil the dead are like curs that bite the stones 
 thrown at them without touching the thrower. Or 
 * Plato's comparison of the commons to a ship's 
 captain who is strong but a little deaf. Or the 
 '^simile which he applies to poets' verses, that they 
 are like blooming faces without beauty; for such 
 faces, when the bloom has faded from them, and 
 poets' verses, when they are broken up, both en- 
 tirely lose their former appearance. Or the similes 
 of Pericles about the Samians, that they are like 
 children which take their sop but cry while taking 
 it, or about the Boeotians, that they are like their 
 own holm-oaks, for, as these are cut to pieces by 
 axes made of their own wood, so are the Boeotians 
 cut to pieces by civil war. Again, there is ''Demo- 
 sthenes's comparison of the commons to seasick 
 passengers on board ship; or Democrates's of the 
 orators to nurses who swallow the bonbon themselves, 
 while they slobber the children with kisses; or 
 Antisthenes's of Cephisodotus the thin to frankin- 
 simiies and ccusc, as giviug pleasure only by wasting away. For 
 
 metaphors. , n u i 'xu • -i 
 
 these may all be expressed either as similes or as 
 metaphors, so that such as are popular, when ex- 
 pressed as metaphors, will be always convertible into 
 similes, and the similes, if the explanatory words are 
 omitted, into metaphors. But the proportional meta- 
 phor should be always transferable reciprocally and 
 
 * Repvblic, vl p. 488 a. 
 
 2 Republic f x. p. 601 b. 
 
 3 It is doubtful whether this is the great orator or not ; his 
 name has been mentioned, but not any passage of his speeches, 
 p. 106, 1. 28. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 241 
 
 fuage. 
 
 III.] 
 
 to either of the two congeners ; e.g. if the goblet 
 is the shield of Dionysus, then the shield may be 
 properly called the goblet of Ares. 
 
 Such then being the component elements of the chap. v. 
 speech, the basis of style is purity of language. But ^l^^^^ 
 purity of language falls under five heads; and ofiang^"" 
 these the first is tlie pro] ^r use of c onnecting words 
 or clauses, i.e. when they are made to correspond 
 in the natural relation of priority or posteriority to 
 one another, aa some of them require, e.g. as ^lev 
 and €7^ fiev require 8e and 6 U as correlatives. But 
 the correspondence should take place before the 
 audience has had time to forget the first of the words 
 or clauses, and the two should not be too widely 
 separated, nor should another such word or clause 
 be introduced before the one required as a corre- 
 lative to the first, as such a construction is generally 
 inappropriate. TaJx exj. the sentence " But I, as soon 
 as he told it me— for Cleon came to me with prayers 
 and expostulations— set out with them in my com- 
 pany." In cases like this there are sometimes a 
 number of connecting words or clauses prematurely 
 introduced before the one which is required as a 
 correlative. But if the clauses intervening between 
 the protasis and the verb "set out" are numerous, the 
 sentence is rendered unintelligible. A second point 
 of purity of style consists in calling JhiiigaJjy-thdr 
 own proper names rather than by general or class^ 
 names. A third consists in the avoidance of am- 
 biguous tenns^but this only if your purpose is not . ^^^^^^^^ 
 op^sed to perspicuitf/. People use ambiguous terms | ,__iAx^--^N 
 when they have nothing to say but make a pretence 
 
 16 
 
 2- 
 
 
 W. E. 
 
 t 
 
I 
 
 242 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 • I 
 
 [ill. 
 
 of saying something, and, if this is their object, they 
 express themselves ambiguously in poetry, as e.g. 
 Empedocles; for the length of their circumlocution 
 imposes upon their audience and affects it as common 
 people are affected in the presence of soothsayers ; for 
 they signify their assent to such ambiguous phrases as 
 
 ** If Croesus pass the Ilalys, he shall whelm 
 A mighty empire." 
 
 / Again, it is because tliere is less opportunity of 
 
 [error in generalities that soothsayers express them- 
 
 \selves in general terms of their subject ; for as in 
 
 the *game of *'odd and even" you have a better 
 
 chance of being right if you say simply "odd" or 
 
 "even" than if you specify the number of things 
 
 held in the hand, so too in proj^hecy you have a 
 
 better chance if you say that a thing will be than if 
 
 you say when it will be, and this is the reason why 
 
 soothsayers never go so far as to specify the date of 
 
 an event. All these circumlocutions, ambiguities and 
 
 the like must be classed together as so many fault s, 
 
 and must therefore be avoided, unless you have some 
 
 such object as I have suggested. A fourth point 
 
 eU 4 ^® *^ observe Protagoras's classification of nouns 
 
 ^$j!;;2^ \ generically as masculine, feminine and neuter; for 
 
 it is important that the genders should be properly 
 
 1 The Greek game known as apnaa^os is briefly described by 
 Becker Charicles, Excursus iii. to Scene vi.; Gallus, Excursus ii. 
 to Scene x. It was played by two persons, of whom one would 
 hold in his hand a number of counters and the other would guess 
 whether the number was odd or even, or more accurately what 
 the number was. 
 
 IH 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 243 
 
 III.] 
 
 assigned, 'as e.g. v B" ekdovaa koX hiaXexOelcra ^xero. ^ 
 A fifth is the correct expression of number, ix. many, 
 few or unity, as e.g. dl 3' i\d6vT€<; erv-mov fie. 
 
 It is a general rule that yiejaQinpQSition_should 
 be such ^s is easy: to read and— which is the same 
 t hing— easy to deliver. But this will not be the case 
 ■where there are many connecting words or clauses 
 o?v^re the punctuation is difficult, as in the writings Punctua- 
 of Heracleitus. It is no easy task to punctuate his 
 writings, from the difficulty of determining to which 
 of two words, the preceding or the following, a par- 
 ticular word in his sentences belongs. There is an 
 example of this difficulty at the beginning of his book, 
 where he says, "Although this divine reason exists for 
 ever men are born into the world without under- 
 standing " ; it is impossible to tell to which of the 
 words "exists" or "are born" the words "for ever" 
 should be joined by punctuation. Again, you are zeui^ma. 
 guilty of a solecism, if in writing two words in a 
 single phrase you fail to assign to them a word ap- 
 propriate to both. Thus if you take e.g. tJie word. 
 "sound" or "colour", the participle "seeing" does 
 not apply to both alike, but " perceiving" does. And 
 you become obscure, if in seeking to introduce ^ 
 number of details in the middle of a sentence you do 
 not complete the sense before you mention them, as 
 
 1 The point of the illustration is the agreement of the feminine 
 participles with the preceding feminine relative. But Mr Cope is, 
 I think, right in arguing that the "classes" of Protagoras were 
 not the same as the ordinary genders of classical grammar but 
 composed (1) male agents, (2) female agents, (3) all inanimate or 
 
 inactive things. 
 
 16—2 
 
 W 
 
 Pareii- 
 thesis. 
 
 
 1 
 

 Chap. VI. 
 Dignity. 
 
 J 
 
 244 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 e.g. if you say "I meant, after discussing with him 
 this, that and the other, to proceed" rather than "I 
 meant to proceed after discussing with him, and then 
 this, that and the other occurred." 
 
 We will pass now to dignity of style. The follow- 
 ing are the causes which contribute to it. Firstly, 
 to use a definition instead of the simple name of a 
 I thing, to say e.g. not "a circle" but "a plane figure 
 / 1 which is at all points equidistant from the centre." 
 ' 'I (If brevity is the object, the contrary should be the 
 rule, viz. the substitution of the simple name for the 
 definition.) Secondly, where the subject is one that is 
 foul or indecorous, if the foulness lies in the defini- 
 tion, to use the name, and if in the name, to use the 
 definition. Thirdly, to employ metaphors and epi- 
 \ thets as means of elucidating the subject, being on 
 1 1 your guard at the same time against a poetical style. 
 ' Fourthly, to put the plural for the singular, as the 
 poets do when they say e.g. 
 
 "Unto Achaean liarbours," 
 
 when there is only one harbour, or 
 
 "Lo! here the manifold tablet-leaves," 
 
 meaning a single leaf. Fifthly, *not to combine tivo 
 cases by a single article but to give each case its own 
 article, as in t^? ywaiKo^; Trj<; rj^eTepa^. (But here 
 again for brevity's sake the contrary r^? 'nfi€T€pa<; yxj- 
 vaiK6<s). Sixthly, to use connecting particles or, if for 
 brevity's sake you omit the connecting particle, to 
 
 ^ The instance given shows that Victorius, whom Mr Cope 
 follows, is right in understanding the rule to mean no7i copulare 
 mncireque uno articulo duos casus, sed utrique suum assignare. 
 
 m 
 
 H 
 
 k^!>^A#vW^'- 
 
 /^OO 
 
 f-K... 
 
 
 > I I 
 
 i-'C'-'C-'-^- jT ''"'"■*• " '-'"'v 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 245 
 
 III.] 
 
 preserve the connexion, saying e.g. iropevOeh koI 
 hia\exOei<i or iropevdeU hieXkxOvv, not iropevOeXj 
 hiaXexOei^. Another useful practice is Anti- 
 machus's device of describing a thing by attributes it 
 does not possess, as he does in the case of Teumessuai 
 in the Hines beghmitig 
 
 "There is a low and wind-swept crest,'* 
 
 for there is no limit to this method of amplification. 
 This mode of treatment by negation is one that is 
 applicable indifferently to things both good and bad, 
 as occasion may require. It is the source of the epi- 
 thets which poets use such as "stringless, lyreless 
 music"; for they add privative epithets, as these are 
 popular in proportional metaphors*, as e.g. in callin 
 the trumpet-blast "a lyreless music." 
 
 The conditions of pmp riety in a speech are that 
 the style should be emotional and ethical, and at the 
 same time proportionate, to the subject-iivcitter. By 
 a proportionate style I mean that the manner of the 
 composition should not be slovenly if the subject is 
 pompous, or dignified if it is humble ; and that there 
 should be no ornamental epithets attached to unim- 
 portant words ; otherwise the composition has the air 
 of a comedy, like ^Cleophon's poetry, which contains 
 
 1 The quotation is from the T/iebais of Antimachus, an epic 
 poem on the theme of the crrra .VI Bij^a.. Teumessus was a hut or 
 
 village in Boeotia. , , -n * f «^ 
 
 2 The "proportional" metaphor has been already illustrated; 
 see marginal reference. Here the "proportion" would apparently 
 
 be this ; . * i / '^ \ 
 
 Trumpet : trumpet-blast :: lyre : music of lyre (/xcXoy). 
 
 3 A tragic poet, whose name occurs more than once in the Poetic. 
 
 / 
 
 Chap. VII. 
 Tropriety. 
 

 -vr ,->? 
 
 II. 
 
 M 
 
 : 
 
 1 1, 
 
 246 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 some expressions as ridiculous as Mt would be to say 
 e.g. "a sovereign fig." The means of expressing 
 emotion, if the matter is an insult, is the language of 
 anger; if it is impiety or foulness, that of indignation 
 and of a shrinking from the very mention of such a 
 thing ; if it is something laudable, that of admiration ; 
 if something pitiable, tliat of depression, and so on. 
 T his appropriate nessjof language is one means of 
 givin^ja.air ^ pro bability to the case, aslTie~TrrtTnl8 
 oflTie audience^draw a wfong liiference of the speaker s 
 truthfulness from the similarity of their own feelings 
 in similar circumstances, and are thus led to suppose 
 that the facts are as he represents liim, ^even if this 
 is not really so. It should be added that a listener is 
 always in sympathy with an emotional speaker, even 
 hough what he says is wholly worthless. This is the 
 reason why a good many speakers try to overwhelm 
 the audience by their clamour. This method of proof 
 depending on external signs is ethical, as the appro- 
 priate characteristics are assigned to any particular 
 class or moral state. I understand under "class" the 
 different periods of life, boyhood, manhood and old 
 age, the sexes, male and female, or nationalities such 
 as the Lacedaemonian or Thessalian; and under 
 " moral states " such as determine the character of a 
 person's life, as it is not every such state which in- 
 fluences the characters of lives. If then the words 
 which the speaker uses are also appropriate to the 
 moral state, he will produce this ethical effect; for 
 
 1 Omitting av or perhaps better tl before f in-ftcv. 
 
 2 There is no good reason for omitting the clause d koi 
 
 1 
 
 III.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 247 
 
 there will be a diflference both in the language and m 
 the pronunciation of a clown and an educated person. 
 Another means of moving an audience is the trick 
 which is used cul nmtseam by speech writers, viz. the 
 introduction of such phrases as "Who is not aware? , 
 "Everybody is aware", wliere a listener is shamed 
 into an admission of the fact for the sake of partici- 
 pating in the knowledge which everybody else ts 
 
 said to possess. , 
 
 The question of opportuneness or mopportune- opportune 
 
 ness in the use of any rhetorical device is one that 
 belongs equally to all the species of Rhetoric. Tliere 
 is one remedy for exaggeration of every sort m the 
 popular rule, that a speaker should 'anticipate cen- 
 sure by pronouncing it on himself, as the exagge- 
 ration is then regarded as coiTect, since the speaker 
 is aware of what he is doing. Let me add the rule of 
 not employing simultaneously all the diflferent means 
 of proportion or corresiwndencc, as this is one way to 
 deceive the audience. What I mean is e.g. if the 
 words used are harsh in sound, not to carry t le 
 harshness into the voice and countenance and the 
 other appropriate means of expression; for the 
 result of so doing is that the nature of each becomes 
 conspicuous, whereas, if you use some and omit 
 others, although you equally make use of art, you 
 succeed in escaping detection. 
 
 It is a general result of time considerations that, 
 if a tender subject is expressed in harsh language or 
 a harsh subject in tender language, there is a certam 
 loss of persuasiveness. The multiplication of com- 
 
 1 Reading TrpofTrtTrXTyrrcii'. 
 
 ? 
 
 i 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 248 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 pound words or epithets and the use of strange words 
 are most appropriate to the language of emotion ; for 
 a person in a state of passion may be pardoned, if 
 he speaks of an evil as " heaven-high " or "colossal." 
 The same excuse holds good when the speaker has 
 mastered his audience and has roused them to en- 
 thusiasm by praise or blame or passion or devotion, 
 as 'Isocrates e.g. does in his panegyrical speech, 
 where he says at the end "sentence and sense" 
 (0J7/X77 KoX ^va)tiri), and again "seeing that they brooked 
 it" {pXTLve<; hXya-ap). For this is the language of 
 enthusiasm and is consequently acceptable to an 
 audience in a state of enthusiasm. It is suitable 
 t o poetry for the same reason, as poetry is ins pired. 
 It must be used thus or else ironically, as by Gorgias 
 and in the * Phaednis of Plato. 
 Chap. VIII. The structure of the style should be neither 
 rheTtyll! ""^ metrTcal nor wholly unrhythmical. If it is the former, 
 it lacks p ersuasive ness from its appea rance of arti- 
 ficiallSZand at the same time diverts^tlie minds 6f 
 
 III.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 249 
 
 the audience from the subject by fixing their attention 
 upon tlie return of the similar cadence, so that they 
 anticipate its coming as children anticipate the 
 answer to the herald's summons, "Whom chooses 
 the freedman for his attorney?" a7id tlie amwcr is 
 
 ^ Of the expressions cited from Isocrates, the first is a 
 misquotation ; and as the point seems to consist in the jinglo 
 of words, the original 0);Vi^i/ 5« Ka\ nvijfxrjv koi d6(av {Paneg. § 220) 
 would be more appropriate. In the second {Paneg. § 1 10, not at 
 the end of the speech), it is the poetical word trXrjaav which 
 gives it colour, although the mss. of Isocrates have iToXfirjirap, 
 
 ^ See e.g. Phaedrus pp. 23S d. 241 e. 
 
 "'Cleon." If on th e other hand the composition 
 is whoUy unrhythmical, it has no definiteness, whereas 
 ifought to be definitely limited, aKhough not by 
 metre, as what is indefinite is disagreeable and in-, 
 capable of being known. It is « number which is/nbythm. 
 the defining or limiting principle of all thmgs, and 
 the number of the structure of style is rhythm, of 
 which metres are so many sections. Hence a prose 
 
 compositionjl^^^ ^^^^55^'' 
 
 ifrnlTbe a poem. But the rhythm should notbe 
 elaborately finished, or in other words it should not 
 
 be carried too far. 
 
 / pass now to the three Muds of rhythm. The Kmdsof 
 heroic rhythm is too dignified, and is deficient m 
 conversational harmony. The ja mbic rh ythm on the 
 other hand js^the very dictioiroToigiSary life, and 
 is tKe^efbfe of all metres the most frequent in con- 
 versation ; but it is deficient in dignity and impres- 
 siveness. The trochaic rhythm approximates too 
 much to broad comedy, as appears in trochaic 
 tetrameters ; for the tetrameter is a tripping rhythm 
 {rpoxepo^ ^u^/io?)- There remains the paean, which 
 has been used by prose writers from Thrasymachus 
 
 1 It was part of Cleon's policy to pose as the champion of 
 those who, like freedmen, could not appear for themselves m 
 Court, and the children, whether in Aristotle's own day or later, 
 seem to have caught up his invariable name. 
 
 > This is the well-known Pythagorean principle; see Ritter and 
 Preller Hlstoria PhUosophiae Graecae et Romanae §§ 52 sqq. 
 Aristotle, m applying it to style, means that words which are 
 themselves formless and incoherent are reduced to order by 
 number, i.e. by rhythm. There is a very similar remark relatmg 
 to music in Plato Philebus, p. 26 a. 
 
 I 
 
3 
 
 r^. ^ "> '/ 
 
 r.uuuu.rw^ ^uUju^^ >vvt5^..v^ ^ \a\ T ^^(^J^u^^^^ <h K^^^^'*'^'*^ ^ 
 
 250 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [hi. 
 
 downwards, although they did not understand the 
 definition of it. ^ The paean is the third rhytlim, and 
 is closely connected with the preceding ones, having 
 in itself the ratio of 3 to 2, while they have the ratios 
 of 1 to 1 and 2 to 1 respectively. The ratio of 3 to 2 
 is connected with both of these, and is in fact the 
 mean between them; and this is the mtio of the 
 paean. 
 
 While the other rhythms should be discarded, 
 partly for the reasons which have been already given 
 and partly because of their metrical character, the 
 paean should be adopted in 2)ro8e compositions^ as it 
 is the only one of the rhythms named which cannot 
 form a regular metre and is therefore the most 
 likely to escape detection. It is the fashion — a wrong 
 fashion, as I think — at the present time to use the 
 same paean both at the beginning and ^ at the end of 
 sentences. There are two opposite kinds of paean, 
 of which one is suitable to the beginning of a sen- 
 tence and in fact is so employed; it is the one be- 
 ginning with a long syllable and ending with three 
 short ones, as in _1 ^j < / o 
 
 or xpva^oKOfia *E<are Tral Atos. 
 
 ^ It is clear, on the principle of a long syllable bcinjj equiva- 
 lent to two short ones, that the parts of the spondee .(- -) or the 
 dactyl (- - -), which are the admissible feet in hexameter verse, 
 have the ratio of 1 to 1 , those of the iambus (- -) or the trochee 
 (--) have the ratio of 2 to 1, and those of the paean (---- 
 or - - - -) have the ratio of 3 to 2. 
 
 2 It is very doubtful whether the words Koi TeXfvrwi/rf y need 
 be inserted in the text; Mr Cope justly says Aristotle would 
 be likely to let them be mentally understood. 
 
 \ 
 
 III.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 251 
 
 The other, which is opposite to it, has three short 
 syllables at the beginning and the long syllable at 
 the end, as 
 
 fjL€Ta §€ yav vbara t aKfavov f](j)difi(T€ vv^. 
 
 \y ^ ^ — — 
 
 This is the paean which iwoperly terminates a sen- 
 teiice ; for the short syllable from its incompleteness 
 has a' mutilated eflfect, ^jiereaajbe sentence should rTT 
 be cut off h^^h&Jinal long syllabic, andJta-fiUcl 
 belDcrarke dnot by the scribe nor by the ' marginal 
 annotation but by the natural rhythm. ^ 
 
 "^olnuch for the proof that the style should be 
 rhythmical and for the nature and structure of the 
 rhythms >vhich make it so. 
 
 The style must be either jointed, i.e. united only chap. k. 
 by its connecting particles, after the manner of nwdern of style. 
 dithyrambic preludes, or compact, like the anti- 
 strophes of the ancient poets. The jointed style is (Diomted. 
 the original one, as in' Herodotus, e.g. "The follow- Jl,,-^^xSL^ 
 ing is a statement of the researches of Herodotus 
 of Thurii"; it was formerly universal but is now 
 confined to' a few writers. By a "jointed style" I 
 mean one which has no end in itself except the 
 completion of the subject under discussion. It is 
 disagreeable from its endlessness or indefiniteness, 
 
 1 The "marginal annotation " (Gk. rrapaypac^v', Lat. interductus 
 lihrarii) would answer to the modern full-stop. 
 
 i The opening passage of Herodotus's History, HpoSorov 
 eovplov ^K Icrropin. aV«8.t^c., is cited as a case of writing where 
 there is no attempt to build up a sentence of parts subordmated 
 to each other, but the sentence is a simple clause or consists of 
 clauses which are merely pieced or jointed by conuectmg 
 particles. 
 
(V^'^> 
 
 I 
 
 »l 
 
 252 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 as everybody likes to have the end clearly in view. 
 This is the reason why people in a race do not gasp 
 and faint until they reach the goal; for while they 
 have the finishing-point before their eyes, they are 
 insensible of fatigue. The compact style on the other 
 (2) periodic, hand is the periodic; and I mean by a "period" a 
 sentence having a beginning and an end in itself, 
 and a magnitude which admits of being easily com- 
 prehended at a glance. Such a style is agreeable 
 \C and can be easily ^learpi. It is agreeable, as being 
 the opposite of the indefinite style and because the 
 hearer is constantly imagining himself to have got 
 hold of something from constantly finding a definite 
 conclusion of the sentence, whereas in tlie other style 
 there is something disagreeable in having nothing 
 to look forward to or accomplish. It is easily learnt 
 too, as being easily recollected, and this because a 
 periodic style can be numbered, and number is the 
 easiest thing in the world to recollect. It is thus 
 that everybody recollects * verses better than irregular 
 or prose compositions, as they contain number and 
 are measured by it. But the period should be com- 
 pleted by the sense as well as by the rhythm . 
 and not be abrui^tly broken off" like the iambics of 
 ^ Sophocles 
 
 " This land is Calydon of Pelops' 8011,** . 
 
 ^ It is to be remembered that the Greek and Roman orators 
 were in the habit of getting their speeches by heart ; hence the 
 importance of /xi/iy/ij; or memoria in a treatise on rhetoric. 
 
 2 The reason alleged depends in part u^wn the etymological 
 
 connexion of yLirpa with fifrpfladat. 
 
 3 The line belongs really to the Meleager of Euripides, not to 
 KA^-^^^eKJL^-uPC-r^ e^ ' '^ "' (K^^-^ A^\A \^eJL ^ ^ \ 
 
 V*-'™*" 
 
 '"'^'w ""^ 
 
 •y ''V>'VA«*^'-*--"tr ^ ^^^ ^ 
 
 'h- 
 
 III.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 253 
 
 for a wholly erroneous supposition is rendered possible 
 by such a division, as e.g. in the instance quoted, that 
 Calydon is in Peloponnesus. 
 
 A period may be (1) dividedinto member8_or Period,. 
 dames, (2) simple. If it islh^^rmer, it sliould be\ ^ttn 
 aSSpite in itself, prbperly divided and capable of \ ^^ 
 beino- easily pronounced at a single breath, not so I ! 
 
 liowever at the arbitrary division of tJw speaJcer but U-^Ji-n^ 
 as a whole. A member or clause is one of the two S.,^>^ 
 parts of a period. A simple period on the other hand 
 is a period consisting of a single member. 
 
 The members or clauses and the periods them- 
 selves should be neither truncated nor too long. If 
 they are too shod;, they often make a hearer stumble ; 
 for if, while he is hurrying on to tlie completion of 
 the measure or rhi/thm, of which he has a definite 
 notion in his mind, he is suddenly pulled up by a 
 pause on the part of the speaker, there will neces- 
 sarily follow a sort of stumble in consequence of the 
 sudden check. If on the other hand they are too 
 long, they produce in the hearer a feeling of bemg 
 left behind, as when people who are taking a walk do 
 not turn back until they have passed the usual limit ; 
 for they too leave their fellow-walkers behind, bimi- 
 larly periods of undue length become actual speeches 
 and resemble a dithyrambic prelude in their dis- 
 cursiveness. The residt is what Democritus of Chios 
 
 anv play of Sophocles. It U objectionable in Aristotle's view, 
 bJause the rhythmical pause comes after x6ovi. but the pause m 
 the sense after y.ia, the words n.X««.'a. x^o^o. being connected 
 with the next line 
 
254 THE EHETORIC [ill. 
 
 quoted as a taunt against Melanippides for writing 
 dithyrambic preludes instead of regular stanzas or 
 antistrophes : 
 
 ^ "A man worketh ill to himself in working ill to his neighbour, 
 And there is nought to its author so ill as a — long-winded 
 prelude ; " 
 
 for a similar taunt may be suitably applied to the 
 patrons of long-winded clauses. Periods in which the 
 clauses are too short are not periods at all ; hence 
 such apeHod drags the audience with it headlong. 
 The periodic style, which is divided into clauses, 
 
 Theperiodic is of two kiuds, accordiug as the clauses are simply 
 divided, as in the sentence ^ " 1 have often wondered 
 at those who convened the public assemblies and 
 
 Antithesis, instituted the gymnastic games," or opposed, where 
 in each of the two clauses either one of two con- 
 traries is placed beside the other, or the two con- 
 traries are connected together by the same word, 
 as ^"Both parties they helped, those who stayed 
 behind and those who went with them ; for the 
 latter they won a new land larger than that which 
 they possessed at home, and to the former they left 
 sufficient in that which was theirs at home." Here 
 the words "staying behind" and " going with them," 
 the ideas "sufficient" and "larger", are contrasted. An- 
 
 ^ The second line is a parody of Hesiod's, 
 
 "iLpya K. 'Hfifpaij 263. 
 
 2 A quotation from Isocrates Pan eg. § 1. 
 
 3 Ibid. § 37; but the words are not quoted exactly. The 
 connexion (cVt'Cfv^iy) lies in the verb (ovrjaav, which governs both 
 Tovs VTTopfipavTas and tovs aKokovOtjaavras (comp. p. 120, 1. 6) ; 
 the juxtaposition of opposites is explained in the text. 
 
 J 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 IIlT OF ARISTOTLE. 255 
 
 otMr vistance is '"to those who wanted money and j 
 to those who desired enjoyment," where setmial enjoy- , ^ 
 ment is opposed to the acquisition 0/ mowey. Agani, *r^ 
 " It often happens in these cases that the wise are ^ 
 unfortunate and tlie fools are successful" ; or " They 
 were immediately presented with the prize of valour 
 and not long afterwards acquired the empire of the 
 sea"- or "To sail through the mainland and march 
 through the ocean, by bridging the Hellespont and 
 digging through Athos " ; or " Citizens by nature 
 but divested by law of their citizenship" ; or " Some 
 of them had a miserable end, and others a shameful 
 deliverance" ; or " In private life using foreigners as 
 domestic servants and in public life suffering many 
 of the allies to be slaves"; or " Either to bring them 
 alive or to leave them dead." Another instance is, 
 the remark which somebody made about Pitholaus 
 and Lycophron in the Court of Law, "These fellows, 
 who when at home used to sell you, now that 
 they have come here, have purchased you." All 
 these are instances of an a ntithetical _s t)le. The 
 agreeableness of Isuch a style lies in the fact that 
 contraries are so easily known, especially when they 
 are set hi juxtaposition, and that it is a style tchtch 
 has a resemblance to a syllogism, the refutative syllo- 
 gism being a bringing together of opposites. Such 
 then is the explanation of antithesis. ' Parisosis is ParUosis. 
 
 ■ 1 The following quotations are all taken (although sometinies 
 inexactly) from the same panegyrical oration of Isocrates. Mr 
 Cope gives the references. . . ^ ^, , 
 
 2 It is, I fear, impossible to help importmg Aristotle s owu 
 
 terms into English. 
 
It 
 
 Paro- 
 
 moiosis. 
 
 Chap. X. 
 
 Clever say- 
 ingsjTo 
 
 I 
 
 
 ' ' 
 
 256 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 the equality of the members or clauses, paromoiosis 
 the similarity of the extremities, i.e. either the be- 
 ginnings or the ends of the sentences. When it is 
 at the beginning, the similarity is always one of whole 
 words, when at the end, it is one of the final syllables, 
 as of different inflexions of the same word or a 
 repetition of the same word*. 
 
 But the same sentence may combine all these 
 points, being at once a case of antithesis, of balance 
 of clauses (parisosis) and of similarity of terminations. 
 
 The beginnings of periods have been pretty fully 
 enumerated in the "Theodectea. 
 
 There are not only true but false antitheses, as in 
 * Epichamius. 
 
 Having discussed and determined these points, we 
 have next to consider the sources of clever and 
 popular sayings. The invention of such sayings is 
 the work of natural ability or of long practice ; but 
 
 ^ Aristotle in the text cites the following instances: (1) of 
 initial paromoiosis, aypov yap tkafitv apyov Trap avrov and 
 b(opr]Tol r errtXovTO irapapprfToi t iirUacnv, (2) of final paro- 
 moiosis c^ijdTja-av avTov iraiblov T€roK€vaif aXX* avrov airiov 
 ytyovfvaiy and «V nXdrrrai^ §€ (Ppovria-i Ka\ iv (\axi(Traii 
 fXiriatv, (3) of varied inflexion a^ios 5e OTadrjvai ;(aX«coO(, ovk 
 a^Los u>v xaX«ov, (4) of repetition au 5* avrbv Ka\ ^avra tXtyfs 
 kokSs Koi vvv ypa(t)€is xaxwy, (5) of syllabic parallelism W au 
 fnaOa BeivoVj fi uubp* ctSff dpyov ; 
 
 * Upon the Aristotelian Theodecteaj see Mr Cope's Intro- 
 duction, pp. 55 sqq. 
 
 3 The line quoted is 
 
 rofca iJ,€U iv rr\vaiv fywv rji', roKa Bi wapa n^vois tydv, 
 
 where there is no true antithesis between rUa p.(v and tokq bi or 
 between €v n^vav and napa ri^vois. 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 257 
 
 the explanation of them belongs to the present trea- 
 tise. Let us enter then upon a complete enumeration 
 of them. We may start with the assumption that 
 learning without trouble is naturally agreeable to 
 everybody, and that, as names or words possess a 
 certain significance, those which impart instruction to 
 us are most agreeable. Now rare words are un- 
 intelligible to us, and the proper or ordiitary names 
 of things we know already. It is metaphor which is Metaphor 
 
 uXlCl Si Till IRf. 
 
 in the highest degree instructive ; for when e.g. 
 * Homer calls old age "the sere, the yellow leaf," 
 he imparts instruction and knowledge through the 
 medium of the genus, as both old age and the sere 
 leaf are withered. The similes of poetry again pro- 
 duce the same effect, and hence a simile, if it is well 
 constructed, shows cleverness. For the simile, as has 
 been already said, is a metaphor with a difference p- 239. 
 only in the mode of statement. Hence it is less 
 agreeable, being couched in longer terms ; also it 
 does not directly say that one thing is another, and, 
 as this is not said, it is not looked for by the minds 
 of the audience, and axicordingly there is no op- 
 portunity of instruction. It follows in regard toEnthy- 
 enthymemes as in regard to style tl mt they are clever, 
 if they convey to us rapid instruction. And hence 
 it is that the enthymemes which are popular are not 
 such as are superficial, i.e. such as are perspicuous to 
 everybody and need no research, nor such as are 
 unintelligible when stated, but those which are either 
 
 1 Odyssey, xiv. 214. The "sere leaf" will perhaps represent 
 Homer's KoKdfir}, although it is used in a somewhat different train 
 of thought. 
 
 W. R. 17 
 
 inemes. 
 
258 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 Metaphors. 
 p. 232. 
 
 [ill. 
 
 apprehended at the moment of delivery, even though 
 there was no previously existing knowledge of them, 
 or which are followed at little interval by the minds 
 of the audience. For what is virtually instruction, 
 whether immediate or subsequent, takes place in 
 these cases, but not otherwise. These being then 
 the species of enthymemes which are popular, if 
 considered relatively to the meaning they convey, 
 relatively to style they may be considered in respect 
 either of their structure or of the single words em- 
 ployed in them. Enthymemes are popular from their 
 structure, if it is antithetical, as e.g. in ^IsocrcUeSf 
 " considering the peace which all the world enjoyed 
 as a war against their own private interests," where 
 there is an antithesis between war and peace ; and 
 from their single words, if the words are such as 
 contain a metaphor, and this a metaphor which is 
 neither farfetched nor superficial (for in the former 
 case it is difficult to comprehend at a glance, and in 
 the latter it leaves no impression), or again, if they 
 vividly represent the subject to the eye, as it is de- 
 sirable that the things should be seen in actual per- 
 formance and not merely in intention. There are 
 then these three objects to be ever kept in view, viz. 
 metaphor, antithesis, and vividness of representation. 
 ''Metaphors are of four kinds, and of these the 
 proportional are the most popular. An instance of 
 a proportional metaphor is the 'saying of Pericles, 
 
 1 Phil. § 82. 
 
 ^ The four kinds of metaphor are enumerated in the definition 
 given in the Poetic^ ch. 21, p. 172, §§ 22—25. 
 3 Already quoted p. 27, L 12. 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 259 
 
 that " the blotting out of the youth who had perished 
 in the war from the state was like the taking of the 
 spring out of the year." Another is the saying of Lep- 
 tines about the Lacedaemonians, that he " would not 
 have the AtJienians look on quietly, when Greece had 
 lost one of her eyes" Again, Cephisodotus expressed 
 his indignation at the eagerness of Chares for the 
 audit of his accounts in the Olynthiac war, by saying 
 that he had * " driven the people into a choking fit by 
 trying to get his accounts audited." The same Cephi- 
 sodotus in one of his exhortations to the Athenians 
 tohl them they ought to "march to Euboea^ with 
 the decree of Miltiades for their commissariat." Again, 
 Iphicrates showed his indignation at the truce which 
 the Athenians had made with Epidaurus and the 
 maritime states by saying that they had "stripped 
 themselves of their journey-money for the war." 
 Pitholaus called the ^ Paralian trireme the "people's 
 bludgeon" and Sestos a * "corn-stall of the Piraeus." 
 Pericles exhorted the Athenians to sweep away 
 
 ^ Reading dyayovra, 
 
 '^ This diflBcult expression seems to mean that the Athenians 
 were to march without any regard to the commissariat, but 
 in the spirit of the resolution which Miltiades proposed at 
 the crisis of the first Persian War. It is the use of iirKTiTlCfcrQai, 
 in conjunction with such a word as yl^i^<f)i(rtia which is in Aristotle's 
 language "metaphorical." 
 
 ^ The Paralus or State galley, as being used in carrying 
 prisoners of state, might be called the people's bludgeon or 
 weapon against their enemies. 
 
 * It is clear that Sestos must have been an emporium of the 
 com which was exported from the coasts of the Euxine Sea 
 to Greece. 
 
 17—2 
 
 * 
 
 if 
 
 n 
 
\^' 
 
 260 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 Aegina, that "eyesore of the Piraeus." Moerocles 
 said he was every whit as virtuous as a certain re- 
 spectable citizen whom he named, as the respectable 
 citizen "got 33 per cent, for his roguery and he him- 
 self got only 10 per cent." There is an instance too 
 in the iambic line of Anaxandrides in pleading the 
 cause of somebody's daughters who had been a very 
 long time in getting married: 
 
 i"The ladies' marriage-day is overdue." 
 
 Similarly Polyeuctus made the remark about a 
 certain paralytic person named Speusippus that he 
 could not keep himself quiet, "although Fortune 
 had set him fast in the pillory of disease." Cephi- 
 sodotus again called the triremes *" painted mill- 
 stones," and the Cynic Dlogeiies called the wine-shops 
 the "Athenian 'public messes." Aesion said that the 
 Athenians had "drained their whole city into Sicily " 
 (which is a metaphor and a metaphor of a vivid kind); 
 and again "so that Greece cried aloud" (which i& 
 also in some sense a vivid metaphor). I may instance 
 too the advice of Cephisodotus to the Athenians to 
 beware of converting many of their *moh-meetings 
 
 1 The point lies in the legal term virepijfieposj which is strictly 
 applicable to somebody who has failed to pay a fine imposed upon 
 him within the time prescribed. 
 
 2 It must have been the grinding exactions in which the 
 triremes were employed against the subject States of Athens that 
 gave this name its appropriateness. 
 
 3 (^tSiTia was the Spartan term for the avaairia which were so 
 characteristic a feature of the Lycurgean legislation. See Politics^ 
 ii. ch. 9. 
 
 * The word awdpofiag is substituted for avyKkrJTovs {fKickria-ias) 
 ** extraordinary assemblies." 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 261 
 
 into assemblies ; or the address of * Isocrates to those 
 "who flock together at the general festivals." An- 
 other example is the one in the * Funeral Oration, 
 that "Greece might well have her hair cut off* at 
 the tomb of those who had perished at Salamis, as 
 her liberty was buried in the tomb with their valour ; " 
 for had he only said that she " might well weep for the 
 valour that lay buried with them," his expression 
 would have been a metaphor and a vivid one, but 
 the addition of the words "her liberty with their 
 valour" contains a sort of antithesis. Similarly Iphi- 
 crates said, "The course of my argument runs through 
 the heart of Chares's conduct;" this is a 'propor- 
 tional metaphor, and the phrase "through the heart" 
 sets the thing vividly before our eyes. Again, the 
 phrase "to invite dangers to the help of dangers" 
 is a vivid metaphor. The same is true of the phrase 
 used by * Lycoleon in behalf of Chabrias, " not awed 
 €ven by that symbol of his supplication, the bronze 
 image," which was a metaphor at the time when 
 it was used, although not a permanent one, as it 
 
 1 Phil. § 14. It is the strange use of (rvvrpixovrasy as of 
 irvvbpofia£ in the last example, that makes the "metaphor." 
 
 2 The Funeral Oration, which seems to be here ascribed 
 to Isocrates, is usually regarded as the composition of Lysias, 
 although its genuineness has been much disputed. 
 
 3 The " proportion " may perhaps be expressed thus : 
 
 A road : a country :: the speech : Chares's conduct 
 
 * A statue of Chabrias with his shield resting on his knee and 
 his spear advanced, had been erected in honour of his victory 
 over Agesilaus b.c. 378. Twelve years later, when Chabrias 
 himself was standing his trial, his advocate Lycoleon must have 
 pointed to this statue. 
 
 I » 
 
 i 
 
262 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 Chap. XI. 
 
 [ill. 
 
 is only in the hour of his peril that the statue can 
 be said to supplicate, but a vivid metaphor, arising^ 
 from ^ the supposed animation of the inanimate me- 
 morial of the services he had rendered to the State. 
 Or again "practising in every way meanness of 
 spirit" is a metaphor, as practising is a species of 
 increasing. Or the saying that "God lit up the 
 light of reason in the soul," both light and reason 
 being means of illumination. Or again *"we are 
 not putting an end to the wars but only putting 
 them off," ivhich is a metaphor, as postponement 
 and such a peace as is described are both merely 
 means of delay. Or again, if we say that ^"the treaty 
 is a very far finer trophy than those won in war; 
 for that is commemorative of a trifling success and a 
 single chance, whereas the treaty commemorates the 
 issue of a whole war ; " for both are signals of victory. 
 Or lastly if ive say that States *"pay a heavy reckon- 
 ing in the censure of mankind;" for the audit or 
 reckoning is a sort of legal damage. 
 
 It has been stated then that the sources of clever 
 sayings are proportional metaphor and vivid or 
 
 ^ Reading t6 ayjrvxov Sc. 
 
 2 Isocrates Paw^<^. § 200. The "metaphor" is, I think, the 
 use of dva^oKXeaBai, as a peace would properly be said not to 
 "postpone" but to "terminate " a war. 
 
 * The word (v6vva^ meaning properly the audit, to which 
 officers of State were called to submit at the expiration of their 
 term of office, is applied metaphorically to the audit which states 
 or nations undergo at the bar of history. 
 
 A reference to the Poetic, ch. 21, is necessary for the under- 
 standing of the "metaphors" cited in the present chapter. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 263 
 
 III.] 
 
 ocular representation of the facts ; but we have still 
 to say what we understand by such representation 
 and what are the means of producing it. 
 
 I mean that expressions represent a thing to the.^i^^^^^- 
 eye, "wHeii they show it in a state of activity. For 
 instance; to describe a good man as i^'^square" is a 
 metaphor, as a good man and a square are both 
 perfect of their hind ; but it does not signify a state 
 of activity. On the other hand such a phrase as 
 ""with his vigour all in bloom" or '"thee like as 
 sacred kine that roam at large" or in the *line 
 
 "Then the Greeks bounding forwards," 
 
 the expression "bounding" is energetic as well as 
 metaphorical. It is the same in Homer's favourite 
 treatment of inanimate objects as animate by the 
 use of metaphor. But it is always by representing \ 
 things as in action that he wins applause, as e.g. / 
 
 " 6 Down down again to the valley the shameless boulder came 
 bounding,'* 
 
 or 
 
 or Hhe arrow 
 
 "^the arrow flew," 
 
 " yearning for its mark " 
 
 or ®the spears 
 
 " stood fixed in earth all panting to taste blood," 
 
 1 Perhaps " an all-round man" would better give the idea 
 
 in English. 
 
 2 Isocrates Phil § 12. ^ ^id. § 150. 
 
 * Euripides, Iphig. in Aul 80. ^ Odyssey, xi. 598. 
 
 « Iliad, xiii. 587. ^ lUd. iv. 126. « /^^vf. xi. 673. 
 
 It 
 
 1' 
 
 i 
 
• I 
 
 PL-C^ 
 
 264 
 
 . CA^C>^ 
 
 Sonrces of 
 metaphor, 
 p. 232. 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 or 
 
 " 1 through the breast 
 The point sped quivering,** 
 
 for in all these instances the living character of the 
 expressions invests the objects with an appearance of 
 activity, shamelessness, quivering eagerness and the 
 like being so many forms of activity. These ex- 
 pressions Homer applied to the objects by means of 
 proportional metaphor ; for *as the stone is to Sisyphus, 
 so is a shameless person to the victim of his shame- 
 lessness. But in his most approved similes too he 
 treats inanimate things in the same way, e,g, in the 
 line 
 
 " Waves that are arched, foam-crested, some foremost, 
 others pursuing;'* 
 
 for he represents them all as moving and living, and 
 activity is a form of motion. 
 
 It is proper to derive metaphors, as has been said 
 before, from objects which are closely related to the 
 thing itself but which are not immediately obvious. 
 Similarly in philosophy it is a mark of sagacity to 
 discern resemblances even in things which are widely 
 different, as when Archytas said that an arbitrator 
 and an altar were identical; for both are refuges of 
 the injured ; or if one should say that an anchor and 
 a hook were identical; for they are both the same 
 kind of thing, only they differ i7i position, 'one being 
 
 1 Ibid, XV. 542. 
 
 ^ It is certainly noticeable that Aristotle understands Homer's 
 dmtdijr as an epithet of a stone to mean literally "shameless". 
 
 3 The meaning is that an anchor holds fast something which is 
 above it, and a hook something which is below it 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 265 
 
 III.] 
 
 above and the other below. The * equalization of 
 states in regard to things very dissimilar, as e.g. 
 equality in area and in perogatives, would be another 
 
 case. 
 
 While metaphor is a very frequent instrument of o^ti^^ 
 clever sayings, another or an additional instrument is 7rpo<r«o.«iv). 
 deception, as people are more clearly conscious of 
 having learnt something from their sense of surprise 
 at the way in which the sentence ends, and their soul 
 seems to say "Quite true, and I had missed the 
 point" Again, the characteristic of clever apoph- 
 thegms is that the speaker means something more 
 than he says, as e.g. the 'apophthegm of Stesichorus 
 that the cicalas will have to sing to themselves on the 
 ground. This too is the reason of the pleasure 
 afforded by clever riddles ; they are instructive and 
 metaphorical in their expression. And the same is 
 true of what Theodorus calls "novel phrases", i.e. 
 phrases in which the sequel is unexpected and not, as 
 he expresses it, "according to previous expectation", 
 but such as comic writers use when they alter the 
 forms of words. The effect of jokes depending upon 
 changes of letters is the same ; they deceive the ex- 
 pectation. Nor are these jokes found only in prose, 
 they occur also in verses, where the conclusion is not 
 such as the audience had expected, e.g. 
 
 And as he walked, beneath his feet 
 Were — chilblains, 
 
 1 The cleverness or originality lies I think, in the comparison 
 of things so different as superficial area and political privilege 
 (or perhaps military strength). 
 
 2 Cp. p. 92, 1. 2. 
 
 If 
 
Clever say- 
 ings as 
 ornaments 
 of style. 
 
 266 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 whereas the audience expected the writer to say 
 "sandals". But in all such cases the point must be 
 clear at the moment of making the joke. A play 
 upon the letters of a word arises not from using it in 
 its direct meaning but from giving the meaning a new 
 tum\ 
 
 A proper enunciation is requisite in all such 
 sayings. Take e.g. the remark that Athens did not 
 find the ^rule of the sea a rule of misery, as it was a 
 source of profit to her, or as ^Isocrates put it, that 
 the rule of the sea was a rule of misery to the state. 
 For in both these cases there is something said which 
 one would not have expected to be said, and yet it is 
 recognized as tioie; for there is no cleverness in 
 calling the rule a rule in the second examj)^, but the 
 word "rule" is employed in different senses, and in 
 the first exam^yle it is not "rule" in the sense in 
 which it has been used before, but "rule" in a 
 different sense which is contradicted. But in all 
 these cases the merit consists in the proper applica- 
 
 ^ Aristotle illustrates the **' literal joke" by two expressions 
 which would be untranslateable, even if it were possible to be 
 sure of their meaning. The first of them (for the o-f of 1. 33 
 should be omitted) may apparently be pronounced either as 
 OpaxTfL "it confounds you" or as Qparr d "you are a Thracian 
 slave girl." " This is amusing (he says) when its point is under- 
 stood, for if you do not know the person to be a Thracian, it will 
 seem silly." The second, ^ovk^i avrhv ntpaaiy has never been 
 explained. "Both (he adds) need a proper enunciation." 
 
 2 dpxv has the meaning first of "empire" and then of "be- 
 ginning " in this expression. 
 
 3 The passage which Aristotle has in mind is apparently 
 either Phil. § 69, or de Pace § 125. 
 
 TM^riT- 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 267 
 
 III.] 
 
 tion of the term employed, i.e. in the appropriateness 
 of it to the thing described, whether it is employed 
 in a doubU-entciidre or in a metaphor. Such an 
 expression e.g. as "Mr 'Bearable unbearable" is a 
 contradiction only of the dovble-entendre ; but it is 
 appropriate enough, if the person in question is a 
 bore. So too the line 
 
 2" You should not be more stranger than a stranger," 
 
 or in other words, not stranger than you are bound 
 to be, which is the same thing. Or again, "A stranger 
 must not always be a stranger" ; for here too there is 
 change of signification. The same is the case in the 
 much lauded line of Anaxandrides 
 
 **Tis well to die ere meriting the death;" 
 
 for this is equivalent to saying "Tis a worthy thing to 
 die unworthily" or ""to die not being worthy of 
 death" or "doing nothing worthy of death". The 
 species of style is the same in aU these instances ; but 
 the more concisely and antithetically it is expressed, 
 the more popular is the saying. The reason of this is 
 that ite instructiveness is enhanced by the antithesis 
 and accelerated by the conciseness of its terms. But 
 there should always be the additional element of 
 some personal appositeness or propriety of express^n, 
 if what is said is to be true and not superficial. For 
 
 1 Plainly 'Avacrxcror is a proper name, which lends itself to a 
 
 play upon its meaning. 
 
 * Vahlen's reading of the line 
 
 ovK av ytvoio ^ciXXov fj ievos {eVoff, 
 gives the best sense and is supported by the context. 
 
 8 The clause is probably spurious. 
 
 I 
 
268 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 Similes. 
 p. 240. 
 
 [ill. 
 
 truth and depth are not always combined, as e.g. in 
 the phrases "One should die void of offence" or "A 
 worthy man should wed a worthy wife", where there 
 is no point at all. It is only when you combine the 
 two that you make a pointed phrase, e.g. "It is a 
 worthy thing to die unworthily." But the greater the 
 number of such elements in a sentence, the more 
 cleverly pointed it appears, as e.g. if its words convey 
 a metaphor, and a metaphor of a particular kind, i.e. 
 a proportional metaphor, an antithesis, a parisosis 
 or balance of clauses and a vividness of action. 
 
 Successful similes too, as has been said above, are 
 always in a certain sense popular metaphors, being 
 invariably composed of two teims, like the propor- 
 tional metaphor. For instance, the shield, as we say, 
 is Ares's goblet, and a bow a stringless lyre. Such a 
 form of expression is not a * simple one; but to call 
 the bow a lyre or the shield a goblet is so. 
 
 A simile is formed e.g. by the comparison of a 
 flute player to a monkey or of a * shortsighted person 
 to a lamp with water dripping upon it, as both '^keep 
 shrinking. A successful simile is one which is virtvr 
 ally a metaphor. For we may compare the shield to 
 "Ares's goblet" or the ruin to a "tatter of a house"; 
 or we may describe *Niceratus as a "Philoctetes stung 
 
 1 It is "not simple" because e.g. the comparison is not 
 merely between shield and goblet but between the shield and 
 Ares on the one hand and Dionysus and the goblet on the other. 
 Cp. p. 118, 1. 30. * Omitting tU, 
 
 3 The winking of the shortsighted person and the sputtering 
 of the lamp are both describable by the verb (rvvdytadai, 
 
 * Niceratus seems to have engaged in a rhapsodical contest 
 with Pratys. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 269 
 
 III.] 
 
 by Pratys'*, using the simile of Thrasymachus when 
 he saw Niceratus after his defeat by Pratys in the 
 rhapsody with his hair still dishevelled and his face 
 unwashed. It is here that poets are most loudly con- 
 demned for failure and most warmly applauded for 
 success, when they so form their simiU that the two 
 members of it correspond, as e.g. 
 
 "Like parsley curled his legs he bears" 
 
 or 
 
 ** Just as 1 Philammon tilting at the quintain." 
 
 These expressions and all others Uke them are 
 similes; and that similes are metaphors is a truth 
 which has been already stated more than once. 
 
 Proverbs again are metaphors from one species to Proverbs. 
 another, e.g. when somebody has invited a person's 
 help in the hope of gaining by it and has afterwards 
 found it to be a source of injury, ^"'Tis as the 
 Carpathian says of the hare" ; for they are both the 
 
 victims of this fate. 
 
 The sources of clever sayings and the reasons of 
 their cleverness have now been pretty fully discussed. 
 
 All approved hyperboles are also metaphors, as Hyperboles. 
 when it is said of a man whose face is bruised, "You 
 might have taken him for a basket of mulberries". 
 For a bruise lihe a mulberry is something purple; 
 but it is the number of the bruises supposed which 
 makes the hyperbole. But there are other phrases 
 resembling those given above which are hyperboles 
 
 1 Philammon was a celebrated athlete. 
 
 8 It is supposed that some Carpathian had brought some hares 
 or rabbits into his island and that they had multiplied and 
 devoured all his crops. 
 
 IiHil 
 

 Chap. XII. 
 Propriety. 
 
 270 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 with only a difference of expression, as if you 
 change 
 
 "Just as PhilammoD tilting at the quintain" 
 
 to "You would have thought he was Philammon 
 fighting with the quintain'* or 
 
 **Like parsley curled his legs he bears" 
 
 to "You might have thought he had not legs but 
 parsley; they were so curly". 
 
 There is a character of juvenility i n hyperboles a s 
 showing vehemence. Hence people generally employ 
 them in moments of passion, as in the ^ lines 
 
 H V, 
 
 Not tho' he gave me gifts 
 As many as the sand-grains or the dust" 
 • •••••• 
 
 '*But Agamemnon*s daughter wed I not, 
 Tho' Aphrodite's beauty were her own 
 And all Athene's art" 
 
 This is a favourite figure of the Attic omtors. But, as 
 being juvenile, it is unbecoming to elder people. 
 
 It must not be forgotten that every kind of Rhetoric 
 has its ovfxi appropria te stvle. For there is a difference 
 between the literary and controversial styles and in 
 the controversial style between the political and foren- 
 sic styles. But the orator should be familiar with 
 both ; for the one (the controversial style) implies a 
 power of expressing oneself in pure and accurate 
 Greek, and the other (the literary style) a deliverance 
 from the necessity of holding one's tongue, if one has 
 anything that he wishes to impart to the world, as is 
 \^ the case of those who have no skill in comi)osition. 
 
 * Iliad ix. 385 sqq. 
 
 'J 
 
 I 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 271 V""^ ^ 
 
 / It is the literary style which is the most finished ^W;^ 
 [and the controversial which is the best suited tov^^jg^ 
 \ declamation. Controversial oratory again is of two 
 kinds, ethical and emotional. This is the reason why 
 actors are fond of such dramas and poets of such 
 dramatis personce as lend themselves to the treat- 
 ment of character or emotion. But it is poets who 
 write to be read whose works are in everybody's 
 hands, such as Chaeremon who is as finished as a 
 'professional speech-writer and Licymnius among the 
 dithyrambic poets. Also a comparison of the speeches 
 of literary men and those of rhetoricians shows that 
 the former are found in actual contests to be meagre, 
 j and the latter, although highly commended, to be in= 
 \ artistic^ when taken in the liands and closely studi^di 
 tTic reason is that they are adapted to an actual con- 
 test ; hence the speeches which are intended to be 
 declaimed, when the declamation is removed, appear 
 ridiculous, as failing to discharge their proper fimcr 
 tion. Thus the use of asyndeta and the frequent, 
 repetition of the same word are rightly reprobated ! 
 in the literary style, but are actually sought by orators 
 in the controversial style for their dramatic effect 
 ""(But in such repetitions there must be some variety of 
 expression, which paves the way, if I may so speak, 
 
 1 The term Xoyoypac^oj is fully discussed by Mr Cope in 
 his note on ii. ch. 11 § 7. It means here not so much one 
 who composed speeches to be delivered by others in a Court of 
 Law as one who wrote panegyrical or epideictic speeches, meaning 
 them not to be delivered at all but to be read and studied at 
 
 home. 
 
 2 The sentences placed in brackets contain remarks which are 
 rather incidental than necessary to the subject of the chapter. 
 
272 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 for declamation, as e.g. in the words "Here is he 
 who robbed you ; here is he who cheated you ; here 
 is he who at the last essayed to betray you." We 
 may instance too the Hrick of the actor Philemon 
 in Anaxandrides's play The Old Man's Dotage at the 
 passage beginning " Rhadamanthys and Palamedes", 
 or his repetition of the personal pronoun in the pro- 
 logue of the Devotees ; for unless such passages are dra- 
 matically declaimed, the case is like that of ''a man 
 who has swallowed a poker. And the same is true of 
 asyndeta, e.g. "I came, I met, I implored"; it is 
 necessary to declaim the words dramatically and not 
 to utter them, as if they were all one thing, with the 
 same character and intonation. There is this especial 
 property also in asyndeta, that they make it possible 
 to present an appearance of saying several things in 
 the time which would otherwise be required for 
 saying one. For the effect of the connecting particle 
 is to convert several things into one ; hence, if the 
 connecting particle is taken away, the consequence 
 will clearly be the opposite effect of converting a 
 single thing into several. The asyndeton is thus a 
 means of amplification. Take for instance the words, 
 "I came, I conversed, I entreated"; the audience 
 seems to survey several things, as many things in fact 
 
 * The allusion is admittedly obscure; but it seems most 
 probable that these were well-known passages in which the art of 
 the actor Philemon had emphasized slight varieties of expression, 
 where several similar clauses occurred together. 
 
 2 "The porter who carried the beam" was a typical Greek 
 instance of stiffness like " the man who has swallowed a poker " 
 in English. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 273 
 
 III.] 
 
 as the speaker mentioned. And this is Homer's pur- 
 pose in the reiteration of the name Nireus in the 
 successive ^ lines 
 
 "Nireus of Syme, 
 "Nireus Aglaia's son, 
 "Nireus the fairest man," 
 
 for as a person of whom several things are said will 
 necessarily be mentioned several times, it follows 
 that, if a person is mentioned several times, it seems 
 as if several things had been said of him. So that 
 Homer by a single mention of Nireus exaggerated 
 his importance through this fallacy and makes him 
 famous, although he never alludes to him again). 
 
 The style of political oratory is precisely similar to poi^^J 
 scene-pamtTng. F or the gre ater the crowd, the more 
 distant is the view : hence it is that in both a finished 
 s^le appears superfluous and unsuccessful. The 
 forensic style on the other hand is more finished, 
 especially when addressed to a single judge ; for he is 
 least subject to rhetorical influences, as he can take a 
 more comprehensive view of what is germane to the 
 case or alien to it and, as there is no actual contest, is 
 not prejudiced in his judgment. Accordingly it is 
 not the same orators who succeed in all the different 
 styles of Rhetoric ; but, where there is most oppor- 
 tunity for declamatio iL. th ere is the lea jt possibility of 
 finish. And this is the case where voice, and especially 
 >vhere a loud voice, is required. 
 
 The epideictic style is best suited to literary pur- 
 poses, aTils proper functi on is to be read ; and next 
 to it the forensic styleTTl is superfluous to add "such ^ 
 
 1 Iliad, ii. 671—3. 
 
 <• 
 
 I- 
 
 Epideictic 
 and forensic 
 . Rhetoric. 
 
 
 W. R. 
 
 -^>C-ex> ,^6^1-^^^ CJ^y^^^^^U^ 
 
 18_ 
 
274 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 Chap. XIII 
 
 Parts of a 
 speech. 
 
 distinctions as that the style should be pleasant and 
 stately ; we might as well say that it must be chastened 
 and liberal and characterized by any other ethical 
 virtue. For it is clear that the Equalities enumerated 
 above will render it pleasant, if we have been right in 
 our definition of virtue of style. What other reason 
 is there why it should be clear and not commonplace 
 but appropriate? For it will not be clear, if it is 
 prolix or too concise. But it is evident that it is the 
 intermediate style which is the appropriate one. Plea- 
 santness will result from the elements above enu- 
 merated, if successfully combined, viz. familiar and 
 foreign words, rhythm and the persuasiveness which 
 is the outcome of propriety. 
 
 We have now concluded our remarks upon style 
 whether as belonging equally to all kinds of Rhetoric 
 or as peculiar to the several kinds ; it remains to con- 
 sider a rrangement. 
 
 A^peechhaTlwo parts. It is necessary first, to 
 state the case and then jo ;prove'ltriris impossible 
 tfeerefore to state your case without proceeding to 
 prove it or to prove it without having first stated it ; 
 for a proof is necessarily a proof of something, and a 
 preliminary statement is not made except in order to 
 
 be proved. 
 
 There is then the exposition of the case on the one 
 hand and the proof on the other, like a problem and 
 its demonstration, according to the natural distinction 
 
 1 Purity, propriety, vividness, rhythm and the like, as Mr 
 Cope justly says. See p. 135. L 2. 
 
 2 The impossibility arises not from the nature of the case but 
 from the necessary conditions of Rhetoric. 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 275 
 
 in Dialectic. The division which is current among 
 modern writers upon Rhetoric is a ridiculous one; 
 for a * narrative of the facts clearly belongs to forensic 
 oratory alone, but where is the possibility in epi- 
 deictic or political speeches of such a narrative as they 
 describe or of a reply to an adversary or in demon- 
 strative speeches of a '^peroration? Again,an exordium, 
 a comparison of cases and a recapitulation occur in 
 political speeches only when there is a controversy. 
 It might as well be said that accusation a^id defence 
 are proper parts of x>olitical speeches ; for it is true 
 that they often occur in them, but not ^so far as they 
 are deliberative. *Nor again is the peroration in all 
 cases a part even of forensic speeches, as e.g. where 
 the speech is a short one and the subject such as can 
 be easily remembered, as something is then subtracted 
 from the length of the speech. 
 
 It appears then that the only indispensable parts 
 of a speech are the statement of the case and the 
 
 proof. 
 
 These are the only proper or characteristic parts ; 
 but if more are added, they must not exceed four, 
 viz. exordium, exposition, proof and peroration. For 
 the reply to one's adversary falls under the head 
 
 1 It would hardly be correct to say that " narrative " is con- 
 fined to the forensic kind of Rhetoric, unless it were taken 
 in a limited sense as meaning a set argumentative statement of 
 
 a case. 
 
 2 The peroration (fVtXoyos) is the subject of ch. 19. It would 
 be out of place (says Aristotle) in demonstrative or closely- 
 reasoned speeches. 
 
 3 Reading aXX* ovx fi a-v^i^vXi^. 
 
 * There should be no stop after (niXoyos. 
 
 18—2 
 
 J 
 
276 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 J 
 
 t: 
 
 •E&ordiim. 
 
 
 [ill. 
 
 of proof, and the comparison of cases, being an 
 amplification of one's own case, is a branch of proof, 
 as there is in some sense a process of proof in such 
 a comparison, although not in the exordium or in the 
 peroration which serves only to refresh the memoiy. 
 If one adopts then such divisions as these, one will 
 come to the inventions of Theodorus and his school, 
 distinguishing narrative, post-nan-ative and pre-nar- 
 rative, refutation and re-refutation. But a special 
 nam e should notbe used unless to express a species 
 oTspeeific distinction ; otherwise it proves to be idle 
 ^ frivolous, like'the Herms invented by Licymnius 
 in his handbook, "impetus" (eVoi^pao-^?), "digression" 
 AdTroTrXdvrjaK;) and "ramification" (o^oi). 
 ' The exordium is the beginning of a speech and 
 corresponds to a prologue in poetry and a prelude in 
 a musical performance, all the three being beginnings 
 , and, as it were, preparations for what follows. Now 
 the musical prelude resembles the exordium in epi- 
 deictic speeches; for as musicians, when they have 
 anything that they can play well, open their per- 
 formance with it and then unite it with the subject by 
 the 'introductor}^ bars, so it is proper to adopt the 
 same style in epideictic speeches, i.e. to say at the 
 outset anything that one may wish to say and then 
 insert the introductory or connecting sentences. This 
 is in fact a universal practice, of which the exordium 
 
 1 The reading is very doubtful, some editors giving cVopovacj 
 or €7V€p<o(Tts or «Veppo)(ri9 ; but assuming that cVovpoxris is right, I 
 should connect it, as Mr Cope does, with ovpos. 
 
 •^ The cVfioo-ifiov, as Spengel says, seems to be here " nou 
 ipsum exordium, sed id quod exordium cum oratione connectit." 
 
 in.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 277 
 
 of Isocrates's Helen is an example, as there is no 
 connexion between the disputatious dialecticians and 
 Helen. It may be added that such a flight of the 
 orator into a new region has the pleasing effect of 
 relieving the uniform character of the speech. 
 
 The exordia of epideictic speeches are derived 
 from praise or censure. Thus Gorgias opens his 
 'Olympic speech with the words, "It is from many 
 lips that you obtain admiration, men of Hellas" 
 praising those who first convened the great as- 
 semblies. But 'Isocrates blames them for having 
 rewarded physical excellences with presents and yet 
 not having offered any reward to wisdom. Another 
 source of such exordia is counsel It may be urged 
 e.g. that it is our duty to honour the good, and ac- 
 cordingly the orator praises Aristides, or to honour 
 those who are not famous and yet not vicious but 
 whose virtues are buried in obscurity, such people 
 e.g. as Priam's son Alexander; for the use of such 
 language is a species of counsel. Again, such exordia 
 may be taken from the exordia of forensic speeches, 
 i.e. from appeals to the audience, when the subject 
 of the speech is paradoxical or difficult or very trite, 
 in the hope of winning a favourable hearing from 
 them, as in the 'Ihies o/Choerilus beginning 
 
 "But now when all is spent" 
 
 1 A speech delivered at the Olympic games with the view of 
 uniting the peoples of Greece against the Persians. 
 
 2 The reference is to Paneg. in init. 
 
 » The lines of Choerilus as quoted by the Scholiast, form a 
 lament that the field of poesy which was once so rich is all worked 
 out, and that every theme is now hackneyed or unpoetical. 
 
 ill 
 
il 
 
 278 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 Such are then the sources of exordia in epi- 
 deictic speeches, viz. eulogy, censur e, exhortation^ 
 dissuasion and appeals to the audience. The infro- 
 ductory^entences of the "speech should be either 
 foreign or closely connected with the speech itself. 
 
 As to the_ exordia of fo rensic^ speeches, it must be 
 understood that they are equivalent to the prologues 
 of dramatic or the proems of epic poetry; for the 
 proems of dithyrambs resemble epideictic exordia, 
 as e.g. 
 
 1 "For thee and thy gifts or spoils." 
 
 In Rhetoric as in epic poetry the exordiimi is a 
 fifimplp ^^ thf^ subjftyt^ beinglnlehded to supply ^the 
 audience with some previous knowledge of it and to 
 prevent their minds from being kept in suspense. 
 For indefiniteness is a cause of distraction ; hence the 
 speaker or writer who places the beginning as it were 
 in their hands gives them a elite by which, if they 
 hold it, they will be able to follow the course of the 
 argument. This is the purport of such exordia as 
 
 2 "Sing Muse the wrath," 
 
 3 "Tell me the man," 
 
 * "Teach me another strain, how Asia's soil," 
 
 or 
 
 * " To Europe came a mighty war." 
 
 So too the tragic poets explain the subjects of their 
 dramas, if not at the opening, like Euripides, yet 
 
 ^ The source of the quotation is unknown. 
 
 ^ Iliad y i. 1. 
 
 8 Odyssey, i. 1. 
 
 * The quotations are said to be lines of Choerilus. 
 
 i 
 
 III.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 279 
 
 somewhere or other in the 'prologue, 'as Sophocles 
 himself in the lines beginning 
 
 " My aire was Polybus," 
 
 and the same is true of comedy. The most essential \ 
 function then or characteristic of tEFSxordium is to, \ 
 ^^n the end or object of the speech ; hence if the 
 subject is itself clear and unimportant, there is no 
 need of employing an exordium. 
 
 There are other kinds of exordia which are em- 
 ployed- but they are merely means of remedying 
 defects' in the audience and are not distinctively 
 exordia. They may be derived from the speaker 
 himself or from the audience or from the subject or 
 from the adversary. They refer to the speaker and 
 his opponent, when their object is the removal or 
 creation of a prejudice. But there is this difference, 
 that in apology the prejudicing circumstances should 
 be placed first and in accusation they should be 
 reserved for the peroration. Nor is the ground of 
 this difference hard to see ; for the defendant, when 
 about to introduce himself, will necessarily dissii^ate 
 the force of such circumstances as stand in his way 
 and wiU therefore begin by removing the prejudice 
 conceived against him, but the accuser, whose object 
 it is to excit« prejudice, will be led to state the 
 
 1 Aristotle himself defines the prologue of a tragedy as ,..'por 
 „-X„. ri ^pi xopoO irapiBou {Poetic, eh. 12) ; but he must give .t 
 a still wider meaning here, if it strictly includes the passage quoted, 
 which does not begin until v. 774 of the Oedipm Tyrannm. 
 
 ' Omitting 8i;Xoi. . 
 
 » "defects, such as inattention, unfavourable disposition, and 
 
 the Uke" (Cope). 
 
 P 
 
 I 
 
 
( 
 
 Means of 
 
 exciting 
 
 attention. 
 
 280 THE RHETORIC [ui. 
 
 prejudicing circumstances in the peroration, that they 
 
 may be more easily remembered. An appeal to the 
 
 audience consists in gaining their goodwill and 
 
 exciting their indignation, sometimes too in arresting 
 
 their attention or the contrary; for it is not always 
 
 well to make them attentive, and this is the reason 
 
 why so many speakers try to move them to laughter. 
 
 I There is not one of the topics hdonglng to the 
 
 lewordmmy nor indeed the appearance of high character, 
 
 / which may not be employed, if one chooses, as a means 
 
 j of creating receptivity in the audience ; forjti^ 
 
 Vracter which most commands attention. The thingsX 
 
 / to which an audience is most attentive are things ] 
 
 I which are important in themselves or specially in- / 
 
 I teresting to them or wonderful or pleasant to hear / 
 
 ^ hence it is proper for the speaker to produce the 
 
 impression that the subjects with which his speech is 
 
 concerned are of this kind. If on the other hand he 
 
 wishes that they should be inattentive, he should try 
 
 to convey the impression that his subject is trifling, 
 
 irrelevant to the audience or disagreeable. It must 
 
 not however be forgotten that all such things are 
 
 extraneous to the speech, being addressed to the 
 
 audience because it is corrupt and ready to listen 
 
 to what is foreign to the subject ; for if this is not 
 
 the character of the audience, there is no need of an 
 
 exordium, except for the mere purpose of stating the 
 
 case summarily, that it may not be, as it were, a body 
 
 without a head. For the artof exciting attention is 
 
 one th at belongs equally to all the parts of a speech, 
 
 ii It isTieeded, and perJuips especially to tJie other 
 
 parts; for people are apt to become inattentive at 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 281 
 
 in.] 
 
 any other part rather than at the beginning. It is 
 absurd then to speak of the beginning as its proper 
 place, when every one is listening most attentively. 
 Hence, whenever there is occasion, it is proper to 
 employ such phrases as "Pray give me your attention. 
 It concerns you every whit as much as myself" or 
 
 t*A Bt'^^g*^ thmfr, «"^*^ ^ "ftv*^'' you have heard^ 
 lajjell you," 
 
 or " a thing so marvellous." This is like Prodicus's 
 rule, whenever his audience was drowsy, " of slipping 
 in a taste of the Fifty Drachm speech '." 
 
 It is evident however that smh tricks as I have 
 described are addressed to the audience not gi^a 
 audience, le. not as imjmrtial and unenwtional 
 hearers of the facts; for it is the universal practice 
 of orators to use their exordia as means of creating a 
 prejudice against their adversaries or of removing 
 apprehensions entertained in regard to tliemsdves. 
 Let me instance the prologue beginning 
 
 • "My lord I will not say how hastily," 
 
 or the interruption of Thoas 
 
 3 "Why all this preluding?" 
 
 1 The Fifty Drachm speech, which was apparently so called as 
 being purchasable at the price of 50 hpaxi^al, must have been one 
 of Prodicus's favourite and most eflfective speeches. Cp. Plato, 
 
 Cratylus p. 384 b. 
 
 2 Sophocles, Antigone 223. 
 
 3 Euripides, Iphig. in Taur. 1162. The first passage is an 
 instance of a speaker apologizing for his own apparent fault ; the 
 second one of a speaker who is trying to throw suspicion or blame 
 on somebody else. 
 
It! 
 
 it 
 
 282 THE RHETORIC [ni. 
 
 Again, exordia are the devices of those whose case is 
 or is supposed by them to be a bad one, as it is better 
 for them to dwell upon anything than upon the case 
 itself. This is the reason why servants, who are ac- 
 cused of something wrong, never give a direct answer 
 to the questions but beat about the bush and make 
 Icmg prefaces he/ore they come to the j^oint. 
 
 The means of conciliating goodwill and of ex- 
 pp.iusqq. citing the various other emotions have been already 
 described. But as there is an appropriateness in the 
 
 lines 
 
 1 "Oh! let me drift to the Phaeacian land 
 Beloved and pitied," 
 
 it follows that lave and jnty are the two objects at 
 which we ought to aina. 
 
 In the exordia of epideictic speeches the hearers 
 should be led to fancy themselves participators in the 
 eulogy, whether personally or in respect of their 
 families or pursuits or somehow or other ; for it is a 
 true "remark of Socrates in his funeral oration that 
 there is no difficulty in lauding the Athenians at 
 Athens, the difficulty is to laud them at Sparta. 
 
 The exordia of political oratory are taken from 
 the same sources as those of forensic oi-atory, but are 
 naturally very rare, as the subject is one which is 
 familiar to the audience, and there is no occasion for 
 an exordium, except — if at all— for the sake of re- 
 commending the speaker himself or meeting his ad- 
 versaries, or if the estimate which the audience en- 
 tertains of the importance of the case is either greater 
 
 1 Odyisepf vii. 327. 
 
 2 Plato, Menexeniis, p. 235 D. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 283 
 
 III.] 
 
 or less than you think right. Hence the necessity of 
 either creating or removing prejudice and of either 
 exaggerating or depreciating the importance of a 
 subject It is for this purpose that an exordium is 
 necessary, or for ornament, as without it a speech has 
 an extemporaneous air. The encomium pronounced 
 by Gorgias on the men of Elis is a case in point ; he 
 uses no preliminary sparring or flourishing, but begins 
 abruptly vdth the words " Elis, blessed city.'* 
 
 As to 'calumny or prejudice mid the means of ck^t.xy, 
 
 ... 1 • u ^'r,4.r. :« Calumny or 
 
 combating it, there is one topic which consists in ^r^udice. 
 using all the possible means of getting rid of un- coSing 
 pleasant suspicion; for as it makes no difference^** 
 whether the suspicion has been expressed or not, the 
 rule is one of universal application. Another topic' 
 consists in meeting the points at issue either by 
 denying the fact alleged or by asserting that it is not 
 injurious or not injurious to the particular person 
 who compkiim of it or that its magnitude has been 
 exaggerated or that it is not criminal or that it is not 
 serious or not disgraceful or not of much importance. 
 For these are the points upon which the issue of a 
 case turns, as in the speech of Iphicrates in reply to 
 Nausicrates, when he admitted the action alleged 
 and its injuriousness but denied its criminality. 
 Another topic is, while one admits the criminality, to 
 allege some compensating circumstance, as that it was 
 injurious but at the same time honourable, or painful 
 but at the same time beneficial, and so on. Another 
 
 1 The meaning of Sto^oXi; hovers between "calumny" and 
 «' prejudice" which is the natural result of calumnious malice. 
 
 2 Reading tottos with Spengel, and so infra. 
 
 w 
 
284 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 is to plead that the crhne was a mistake or a mis- 
 fortune or that it was committed under compulsion, 
 as when * Sophocles said that his trembling was not 
 assumed, as his calumniator alleged, for the sake of 
 presenting an appearance of old age, but arose from 
 necessity, as it was no fault of his that he was eighty 
 years old. Or again, to urge the motive of the act as 
 a compensating circumstance, saying that it was not 
 your intention to inflict an injury but something else, 
 not what was calumniously alleged against you, and 
 that the injury was only an accidental consequence. 
 "I should deserve to be hated," ymt may add, "if I 
 had had this intention in so acting." Another topic 
 arises, if your calumniator has been involved in a 
 similar charge, whether now or on some previous 
 occasion and whether personally or in the persons of 
 his relations or friends. Another, if others are in- 
 volved in the calumny, who are admitted to be in- 
 nocent ; thus if it is argned that a * person is an 
 adulterer because he is a dandy, it may be replied 
 that then Mr So-and-So must be an adulterer. A 
 third, if your accuser has ever alleged the same 
 calumny against others or if somebody else has ever 
 alleged it against yourself or if without a directly 
 calumnious accusation others, who have been proved 
 to be innocent, were ever exposed to the same sus- 
 picion as you are now. A fourth is the topic of re- 
 crimination, where you urge that it is monstrous 
 
 1 If the Sophocles, of whom this story is told, was the poet, 
 the ** calumniator " can hardly have been his son lophon, as it was 
 lophon's object to prove him to be in his dotage. 
 
 2 Reading fl on Kadapiosj fioixos. 
 
 III.] 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 285 
 
 that a man's allegations should be trusted, when he 
 is wholly untrustworthy himself. Another is the 
 appeal to a previous decision, as in the reply of 
 Euripides to Hygiaenon, who in the action for an ex- 
 change of properties accused him of impiety for the 
 line he wrote in recommendation of perjury 
 
 1 « The tongue hath sworn, the mind is still unsworn," 
 
 when he replied that Hygiaenon had no right to 
 transfer cases from the Dionysiac contests to the 
 Courts of Law, as he had already given an account ot 
 his language there or was ready to give it, if Hygiaenon 
 chose to accuse him. Another topic consists m m- 
 veighing against calumny, showing its enormity and 
 how it raises points which are foreign to the issue 
 and places no reliance on the strength of the case. 
 A topic which belongs equally to the prosecutor 
 and the defendant is the use of signs or probabilities, 
 as when Odysseus in the Teitcer of Sophocles argues 
 that Teimr is frkndly to the emmy because of his 
 relationship to Priam, his mother Hesione haying 
 been Priam's sister, and Teucer answers that this is 
 impossible, beeame his father Telamon was Priam s 
 enemy and he did not betray the spies to Priam. 
 There is another topic which a calumniator may use 
 with advantage, viz. to eulogize some trifle at great 
 lenffth and then introduce some serious censure m a 
 few words, or to begin by mentioning a number of 
 jrood points and then to mention one point only 
 which is censurable but that a point which has a 
 
 1 Hipiyolytm, 612. 
 
286 THE RHETORIC [ill. 
 
 direct bearing on the ease. It is topics like these 
 which are the most artful and unfair, as people who 
 use them try to convert what are really good points 
 into means of injury by intermingling with them 
 such as are bad. Lastly, there is another topic of 
 which both the prosecutor and the defendant may 
 avail themselves, viz. to utilize the various possible 
 motives of the same action and, if your object is to 
 excite prejudice, to depreciate an action by putting a 
 bad construction upon it, and, if it is to remove it, to 
 extol the same action by interpreting it in the most 
 favourable sense, e.g. by urging that ^ Diomedes pre- 
 ferred Odysseus as his companion either on the one 
 hand because he thought him the bravest of the 
 Greeks or on the other because Odysseus was such a 
 craven fellow as to be the one man of whose rivalry 
 he was not afraid. 
 Chap. XVI. So much then it may suffice to say in regard to 
 calumny. 
 
 Narrative in epid eictic s[)ee che8 ia not co ntinuous 
 but fragmentary. Still it is an indispensable part 
 qf^suchspeeclies, as the facts which foim the subjects 
 of an epideictic speech must be related. For in the 
 composition of the speech there are two elements, one 
 which is inartistic or which does not admit of artistic 
 treatm/enty as the orator does not invent his own facts, 
 the other artistic, i.e. the proof that the fact is true, 
 if it is incredible, or that it is of a particular quality 
 or magnitude or all three. Accordingly it sometimes 
 happens that it is not proper to relate all the facts 
 
 ^ The reference is to the episode known as the AoXwVfia, 
 Hiad^ X. See especially vv. 242 — 247. 
 
 Na 
 
 ^ in epi 
 leictic 
 speeches, 
 
 ^ — 
 
 IX <T''t^'^€A<0 
 
 L-t*-0<:> ^^ 
 
 ^P?^^ 
 
 -Hd 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 287 
 
 III.] 
 
 seriatim, as such a proof would be difficult to re- 
 member. Thus there are certain facts which tend to 
 prove that a person is brave, certain other facts which 
 prove that he is wise or just ; and these should not he 
 confused. Also there is a greater simplicity in the 
 speech, if so divided, whereas in the other case it is 
 involved and deficient in smoothness. If the facts are 
 notorious, it is proper merely to recall them to the 
 memory of the audience. Hence in such cases ^ 
 ordinary people do not need a narrative, e.g. if it is | "^ 
 your wish to eulogize Achilles ; for everybody knows ^ 
 his exploits, and you have only to comment upon 4 
 them. But if it is Critias ivhom you tvish to eulogize, y 
 a narrative is necessary, as his actions are not/ 
 generally known....* The popular doctrine that the (2Mn ^ 
 narrative should be rapid is an absurd one. Surely speeches. 
 the case is like that of the man kneading dough who 
 asked if he should knead it hard or soft and received 
 the answer "Why? is it impossible to knead it well?" 
 The narrative should not be prolix any more than the 
 exordium or the statement of proofs ; for in them as 
 well as in the narrative it^ is not rapidity or con- 
 ciseness which constitutes excellence but the due 
 observation of the mean i.e. the using just so m any 
 word s aa will explain the facts of the case or will pro- ' 
 duce in the minds of the audience the impression 
 that they have occurred or have been injurious or 
 criminal or of such importance as you wish them to 
 
 1 There is clearly a lacuna in the text before this sentence. 
 For not only is the remark about rapidity introduced abruptly; 
 but the sentences which follow are found to relate to forensic 
 oratory, which has not yet been mentioned in the chapter. 
 
 
 i 
 
\ 
 
 288 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 be considered; or an opposite impression, if you are 
 taking the opposite side. 
 
 You may properly slip into your narrative anything 
 that tends to show your own virtue, i.e. such a remark 
 as ''I was for ever admonishing him, urging the in- 
 justice of leaving his children in the lurch", or any- 
 thing that tends to show the wickedness of your 
 adversary, e.g. "But he said in reply that, wherever he 
 himself was, he would find other children '—the 
 answer of the revolted Egyptians according to 
 * Herodotus to (lie king who besought them to return. 
 You may slip in also anything that gmtifies the jury. 
 
 On the side of the defence the narrative part of 
 the speech may be briefer, as the issues raised are the 
 contentions that the circunistaiice which is alleged 
 has not occurred or is not injurious or not criminal or 
 not so serious as has been supposed. Hence there 
 is no need to waste time in proving facts already 
 admitted, unless they bear upon the issue which has 
 been raised, as e.g. when the fact is allowed but the 
 criminality of it is denied. Again, it is proper to 
 speak of events as already past, except when the 
 actual representation of them excites either com- 
 passion or indignation. An example of this is the 
 ^ story of Alcinous in the Odyssey \ for it is told to 
 
 ^ Herodotus, ii. ch. 30. 
 
 ^ The four books, Odyssey, ix — xii, in which Odysseus recites 
 to the Phaeacian king Alcinous the story of liis wanderings, seem 
 to have formed a single "rhapsody" under the title 'AXkiVov 
 atzokoyoi. This long story is condensed into 60, or more exactly 
 65 lines, when Odysseus repeats it to Penelope as a mere 
 narrative of past events {ibid, xxiii. 264 — 284, 310 — 343). 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 289 
 
 Penelope in only sixty lines. Other examples are 
 Phayllus's summary of the Epic Cycle and Euripides's 
 prologue in the (Eneus, 
 
 But the narrative should be ethical ; and in order 
 that it may be thus, we must know what it is that 
 imparts an ethical character. The first thing is the 
 indication of a moral purpose. It is upon the quality 
 of this purpose that the quality of the character im- 
 parted will depend, and the quality of the purpose 
 will be determined by its end. Hence there is no 
 moral character in mathematical treatises, as they 
 have no moral purpose; for they have no moral or 
 pra>ctical end in view. But the ^Socratic dialogues 
 are ethical, as dealing with ethical subjects. There is 
 another source of ethical eflFect in such characteristic 
 marks as are the concomitants of particular characters; 
 e.g. ^^ So-and-so kept walking as he talked", for this 
 is a sign of audacity and boorishness of character. 
 Another is to seem to speak not from policy, like the 
 speakers of the present day, but from the heart, as 
 e.g. "That was my wish ; it was my purpose ; true, I 
 gained nothing by it; but still it was best." Here 
 you have the difference between prudence and virtue, 
 prudence consisting in the pursuit of self-interest and 
 virtue in the pursuit of nobleness. If a trait of 
 character is incredible, then it is proper to add the 
 explanation of it, as in the example that Sophocles 
 supplies in his * Antigone, where she says that she 
 cared more for her brother than for husband or 
 
 ^ For the "Socratic dialogues" {2(OKpariKol Xoyot, Socratici 
 Sermones) see Grote's Plato voL m. pp. 469 — 473. 
 
 * The passage quoted is Antigone 911—2. It illustrates 
 
 W. R. 
 
 19 
 
'*! 
 
 290 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 children; "for husband and children, if they were 
 lost, might be replaced, 
 
 "But they being dead, my father and my mother, 
 I never could have brother bom anew." 
 
 If you have no explanation to give, you must at any 
 
 ,^ rate say that "you know you will not induce anybody 
 
 -' to believe you, but it is your nature to be dism- 
 
 terested; for the world does not believe m any 
 
 motive of action except self-interest". 
 
 Again, topics may be derived from emotional signs 
 
 by describing the usual accompaniments and famiHar 
 
 ^. . features of emotion and the special characteristics of 
 
 :^ your opponent or yourself, aB e.g. "He departed with 
 
 ^ a scowl at me"' or "hissing and shaking his fists as 
 
 / Ueschines says of Cratylus; for there is a certain 
 
 "^ 1 persuasiveness in such language, because the facts 
 
 which are familiar to the audience are treated as 
 
 signs of facts with which they are not familiar. There 
 
 are a great number of such instances in Homer, e.g. 
 
 "2 He spake, and in her hands she clasped her brow", 
 
 for people when beginning to weep are apt to clasp 
 
 their eyes. ^ xi. * ^ 
 
 Present yourself to the audience from the outset 
 in a certain moral light, that they may form a proper 
 view of yourself and of your adversary ; only do not 
 betray your design. That it is easy to do this is 
 evident in the case of messengers ; for without know- 
 Aristotle's rule, as the sentiment, which seems so strange, is 
 iustified by the reasoning wliich follows. 
 
 1 Changing the full stop after viro^Uylras to a comma. 
 
 2 Odyssey xix. 361. 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 291 
 
 ing anything of the message we often conceive an 
 idea of it from the aspect of the messenger. 
 
 The narrative should be distributed over the 
 speech, and should sometimes not occur in its natural 
 place, at the beginning. 
 
 It is in political oratory that there is least roomV.ip 
 for narration, as no one ever narrates what lies in the/p^hes. 
 futura Narrative, if it occurs at all, must refer 
 to the past, that with the facts of the past in their 
 recollection the audience may be better fitted to 
 deliberate on the future. Or it may be employed 
 in disparagement or in eulogy, but in that case the 
 speaker is not really discharging the function of a 
 counsellor. *If there is anything incredible in the 
 narrative, U is proper to promise that you will add 
 an explanation of it immediately and to set it forth 
 to the satisfaction of the audience, as the Jocasta of 
 Carcinus wi his (Edlpus perpetually promises in 
 answer to the man who is looking for her son, or 
 as the Hsemon of Sophocles. 
 
 Tlie proofs should be demonstrative in their chap. 
 
 XVII 
 
 nature. But as there are four points on which the Proofs! 
 issue may possibly turn, the one to which the proof 
 should be directed is the particular point at issue 
 in the case. Thus if it is the question of fact which 
 is at issue, it is the proof of this especially tljat should 
 be urged in the trial ; but if it is the question of 
 injury, then the proof of this, and similarly if it is 
 
 * The sentence is hardly intelligible, as it stands, especially as 
 the instances cited are unknown. But it must, I think, express 
 some rule for recommending to the audience a statement which 
 in itself is incredible or improbable. 
 
 19—2 
 
 
mmfrmmmmmmi 
 
 ~^ t-v^t^ O-O'V^ Cn-A* 
 
 ,^.^- u^ (^-^^ ( -*-^ ^-^^"a^" 
 
 292 
 
 THE EHETOEIC L^^^- 
 
 a question of magnitude or of criminality «Ae pro«^ 
 ofVTOof being menticdly the same as if the question 
 a{ Usue wer" one of the fact But it must not be 
 forgotten that the issue of fact is the only one m which 
 one or other of the two parties must be a rogue ; for it 
 is impossible here to plead ignorance, as it might be 
 pleaded, if the question were the justice of the action. 
 Accordingly it is in such cases, but in such only, that 
 it is right to dweU upon this parMar top^ 
 m epideictic speeches it will be generally amp ifl- 
 cation that is used to prove the moral or utili- 
 terian nature of the facts ; the facts themselves 
 must be taken on trust, as it seldom happens that 
 epideictic orators adduce proofs of them and mlp 
 when they are themselves incredible or 'somebody 
 else has got the credit of them. In poUtical speeches 
 It may he contended that the ^Mcy of om's adve,- 
 sary is impossible or that it is possible but uiyust 
 or inexpedient or that it wiU not have the important 
 results which he anticipates. But at the same time 
 the orator must be on the look out for any f^la^ 
 outside the actual issue, as such a falkcy ^nthe 
 statemmt of extran^om mdters is taken for a 
 proof of feUacy in the statement of the case 
 
 B,«np.e. ' Examples are especially appropriate to political, 
 and enthymemes on the other hand to forensic oratory. 
 For the former, being occupied with the future de- 
 mands examples drawn from t^e history of the past ; 
 the latter turns upon matters of fact, which admit to 
 a larger extent of demonstrative and necessary con- 
 
 1 Reading SKXos* 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 293 
 
 III.] 
 
 elusions, as there is a sort of necessity in the past, 
 i.e. the past is irrevocable. 
 
 The enthymemes should not be stated in an un- En^y- 
 broken series, but should be intermingled with 
 varims other topics; else one enthymeme destroys 
 the eflfect of another. For there is a limit of quantity 
 in such things, as Homer shows in the ^line 
 
 "Dear friend, thy words are many as a man 
 May speak, being prudent" 
 
 ^'as many words,'' he it observed, not "such words", 
 in reference not to their quality but to tJieir quantity. 
 
 Nor is it proper to search for enthymemes on all 
 subjects ; otherwise you will be acting like some 
 professing philosophers, whose conclusions are more 
 familiar and more credible than the premisses from 
 which they deduce them. And further, avoid the use^ 
 of an enthymeme in exciting emotion ; for the enthy- 
 meme will either expel the emotion, or, if not, will^ 
 have been constructed in vain, as simultaneous 
 motions are mutually exclusive, and the one obliterates 
 or else enfeebles the other. Nor again should you 
 resort to an enthymeme at a time when you are 
 seeking to invest your speech with an ethical charA 
 acter; for there is nothing of character or moralj 
 purpose in demonstrative argument. 
 
 Maxims on the other hand in virtue of their Maxims, 
 ethical character should be used both in narrative 
 and in proof. Tlie ethical force of a maadm is evident, 
 if you say e.g., "I have given it, and that though I 
 
 1 Odyssey iv. 204. It is Menelaus who is addressing Pisi- 
 atratus the son of Nestor. 
 
 i 
 
^R 
 
 294 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 I! 
 
 Rhetoric. 
 
 know it is folly to trust anybody". // y(ni wish how- 
 ever to work upon the emotions ofymir midknce, you 
 maypiit it thus "And I do not regret it, although I 
 have been injured; for if my enemy has the ad- 
 vantage in profit, it is I who have the advantage in 
 
 justice." 
 Comparison Political oratory is more difficult than forensic, 
 tTl^^c for the sufficient reason that it relates to the future, 
 whereas forensic oratory relates to the past, which, as 
 Epimenides the Cretan said, may be known even to 
 diviners; for he himself was not in the habit of 
 divining the future but only the obscurities of the 
 past. (Besides this, the law itself forms a subject in 
 forensic speeches; aud when you have a starting- 
 point, it is not difficult to find a proof.)* Nor does 
 political oratory allow of many diversions such as 
 attacks upon your opponent and apologies for your- 
 self, or again of appeals to the emotions. There is 
 less room for them in political than in any other kind 
 of oratory, unless the orator departs from his proper 
 subject. Accordingly the orator, when at a loss for 
 something to say, should follow the example of the 
 rhetoricians at Athens and of Isocrates who in a 
 deliberative speech introduces an accusation, as e.g. 
 of the 'Lacedemonians in his Panegyric and of 
 
 1 This remark upon the law as a rhetorical subject is paren- 
 thetical. . 1 N » 
 « The Panegyrical speech of Isocrates is properly a \oyos 
 
 <rvu/3ovX€VTtic6., its object being to unite the forces of Athens 
 and Sparta against the Persians; but there are certain passages, 
 §§ 140—147, which reflect in bitter terms upon the pohcy of 
 Sparta. 
 
 III.] OF ARISTOTLE. 295 
 
 * Chares in his speech on the Alliance, Le, he should 
 import alien subjects. 
 
 In epideictic speeches it is proper to introduce Epideictic 
 eulogies by way of episodes, as is the practice of 
 Isocrates, who is always bringing in somebody. It is 
 this that Gorgias meant when he declared that he 
 was never at a loss for something to say, for in 
 speaking e.g. of Achilles, he eulogizes Peleus, then 
 /Eacus, then the God, ix. Zeus the father of JEams, 
 and similarly valour, and so on. This is just what I 
 have been describing. 
 
 If you have proofs to adduce, your language 
 should be both ethical and demonstmtive, but if you 
 have no enthymemes, it should be exclusively ethical ; 
 in fact to a person of good character it is more ap- 
 propriate that his virtue should display itself in his 
 speech than that his speech should be accurately 
 
 reasoned. 
 
 Among enthymemes the refutative are more Demonstm- 
 popular than the demonstrative, as a refutation ref^^jtative 
 brings out the syllogistic conclusion more clearly, "•^"'es. 
 the opposites being more easily recognizable by 
 juxtaposition. 
 
 The reply to an adversary is not a separate branch 
 of the speech ; it is rather a part of the proofs to 
 refute his arguments either by objection or by 
 counter-syllogism. In deliberative and in forensic ^ng«.^ 
 speaking alike it is right, if you are the first speaker, speech. 
 to begin with a statement of your own proofs and 
 
 ^ The (Tv^/ioxiKoff Xoyoy must be the speech known as de Pace, 
 where an indirect attack is made upon Chares the Athenian 
 general for his conduct in the Social War. 
 
 r 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 ■■ \ 
 
.X... 
 
 * 
 
 296 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 IN 
 
 1 
 
 Ethical 
 effect. 
 
 [ill. 
 
 then to meet the arguments on the other side by 
 directly refuting them and by pulling them to 
 pieces in anticipation. But if the opposition is of a 
 varied character, it is right to deal first with the 
 opposing arguments, as Callistratus did in the 
 Messenian Assembly, when he first disposed of the 
 arguments which would be urged by his adversaries 
 and then made his own statement of the case. If you 
 speak last, you should begin with the answer to your 
 adversary's arguments, by refutation and counter- 
 syllogism, especially if they have been well received. 
 For as the mind does not give a favourable reception 
 to a person against whom it has conceived a prejudice, 
 so neither does it receive a speech favourably, if the 
 speech on the other side is considered to have been 
 successful. You have to make room then in the 
 minds of the audience for the speech you are about 
 to deliver, and the way to do this is to dispose of 
 your adversary's speech. Accordingly you must first 
 contend against all or the most important or the 
 most popular or the most easily refuted of his 
 arguments and then proceed to establish the credi- 
 bility of your own case. This is what Euripides has 
 done in the ^lities 
 
 "First will I prove the goddesses' ally, 
 Methinks not Hera;" 
 
 here he begins by touching on the weakest argument 
 
 So much then for the consideration of proofs. As 
 
 to character, since there are some things which, if 
 
 1 The lines quoted are 969 and 971 of the TroadeSy from the 
 beginning of Hecuba's reply to a long preceding speech of Helen. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 297 
 
 III.J 
 
 you say them of yourself, are either invidious or 
 tedious or highly disputable and which, if you say 
 them of others, imply either calumny or coarseness, 
 it is as well to put them into the mouth of a third 
 person, as in the example of Isocrates in his ^Philip 
 and in his 'Speech on the Exchange of Properties 
 and as in the lampoons of Archilochus, who represents 
 the 'father as using the line about his daughter, 
 "Nought is improbable, nought can never be" 
 
 or Charon the carpenter uttering the line beginning 
 
 " Not mine the wealth of Gyges." 
 
 Similarly * Sophocles makes Haemon plead with his 
 father for Antigone in language quoted from the 
 
 lips of others. 
 
 Again, you should occasionally change the form 
 of your enthymemes and express them as maxims. 
 Thus the maxim "Sensible men should patch up 
 their quarrels in the hour of prosperity, as they will 
 then be likely to get the best terms" may be ex- 
 pressed enthymematically in the form "If it is right 
 to patch up one's quarrels, when it is possible to get 
 most beneficial and advantageous terms, you should 
 do so in the hour of prosperity." 
 
 1 Probably Spengel is right in thinking that the passage 
 referred to is §§ 4 — 7. 
 
 2 §§ 149 sqq. 
 
 3 Archilochus, it is meant, in attacking the lady who had 
 rejected him put his lampoon into the mouth of her own father. 
 Similarly in inveighing against the vanity of riches he ascribes 
 his own sentiments to the contented carpenter, Charon. 
 
 * Antigone G88— 700. 
 
 Enthy- 
 memes 
 and 
 maxims. 
 
jH 
 
 Chap. 
 XVIII. 
 
 Intenropa- 
 tion. 
 
 298 
 
 THE KHETORIC 
 
 [ill. 
 
 We come now to the interrogation of one's ad- 
 versary. It is a device which may be most op- 
 portunely used, when your adversary has already said 
 the opposite, and when therefore an absurdity results 
 from a single additional question. Thus Pericles 
 interrogated the sootlisayer Lampon as to the sacri- 
 ficial ritual of the 'Saving Goddess and, when he 
 answered that it coidd not be told to one who had 
 not been initiated, inquired if it was known to Lampon 
 himself ; Lampon said " Yes," and then he rejoined, 
 "How can it be, when you have not been initiated?'* 
 It may he used secondly, when there are two points 
 of which one is self-evident and the other will clearly 
 be admitted as soon as the question is put. For in 
 such a case, when you have obtained one of your 
 premisses in reply to your question, you should not 
 proceed to put what is self-evident in the form of a 
 question but should state the conclusion immediately. 
 Thus ''Socrates, when accused by Meletus of denying 
 the existence of gods asked if there was anything 
 which he (Socrates) called divine; when Meletus 
 admitted this, he inquired if divine things were not 
 either children of the gods or something divine, and 
 on his answering "Yes" said, "Is there anyone then 
 who believes in the existence of children of the gods 
 
 i The saving goddess is Demeter; cp. Aristophanes, Ranae 
 
 378. 
 
 2 The passage of Plato Apology, p. 27 does not exactly corre- 
 spond with the text. Apparently the point is that, instead of 
 obtaining a minor premiss by putting a second question, the 
 speaker should abruptly present the conclusion itself in the form 
 of a question. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 299 
 
 III.] 
 
 but denies the existence of the gods themselves ?" ^ 
 Thirdly, interrogation may be used, when it is your ^^^ 
 intention to display your adversary in a self-contra- 
 diction or a paradox. Or fourthly, when it is im- 
 possible for him to meet the question without giving 
 a sophistical answer ; for if he replies that a thing 
 "is so and yet is not so," or "is partly so and partly 
 not," or "so in one sense but not in another,'' the 
 audience shows its perplexity by loud disapprobation. 
 These are the only conditions in which interrogation 
 should be attempted ; for if your adversary interposes 
 an objection, you are thought to have been defeated, 
 as it is impossible to put a series of questions owing 
 to the intellectual weakness of the audience. Hence 
 your enthymemes should be condensed as far as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 In replying to questions, if they are of an am- K^piy. 
 
 biguous kind, you should proceed by distifiCtion or 
 definition, and should not express yourself too con- 
 cisely. Where on the other hand the questions are 
 such as seem to land you in a contradiction, you 
 should give your explanation at the outset of your 
 answer before your adversary puts his next question 
 or draws his conclusion ; for it is not hard to see 
 what is the point of his argument. But a reference 
 to the ' Topics will explain this as well as the me^ns 
 of refutation. 
 
 In drawing a conclusion, if your adversary puts 
 the conclusion in the form of a question, you should 
 state at once the explanation of your conduct. For 
 
 1 Toirncd, Bk. VIII. 
 
300 
 
 THE RHETORIC 
 
 Jokes. 
 
 [111. 
 
 instance, * Sophocles being asked by Pisander if he 
 had agreed with the other members of the Council 
 in recommending the appointment of the Four Hun- 
 dred said, "Yes." "Why? did not you think it 
 wrong?" was the reply. "Yes," he said. "So you 
 committed this wrong action." "Yes," he rejoined, 
 "for it was the best thing possible." Similarly the 
 Laceda)monian, being called to account for his ad- 
 ministration of the ephoral office, in answer to the 
 question whether he thought that the other ephors 
 had deserved to be executed, said "Yes." "Well, 
 did not you act in concert with them?" was the 
 reply, and he assented. "Well then, do not you 
 equally deserve to be executed?" "No," he said, 
 "for they acted so for a bribe, and I on the con- 
 trary from conviction." It is a mistake then to put 
 a further question after the conclusion, or to express 
 the conclusion itself in the form of a question, unless 
 the truth is superabundantly clear. 
 
 We come now to the subject of jokes. As it 
 appears that they have a certain value in controversy 
 and Gorgias laid it down rightly enough as a sound 
 maxim to confound the seriousness of one's adversary 
 by jocularity and his jocularity by seriousness, the 
 various kinds of jokes have been stated in the 
 Hreatise on Poetry, Some of these are suited to 
 gentlemen, but not all. You must be careful then to 
 
 ^ Not the poet, but the politician who was one of the npo^ov 
 \oi appointed at Athens after the Sicilian disaster in 413 B.C. 
 (See Thucydides viii. ch. 1). It was by them that the ohgarchy 
 of the Four Hundred was set up. 
 
 * Cp. Ehet. i. ch. 11. ad Jin. and the note there given. 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 301 
 
 III.] 
 
 make use of none but such as are appropriate to your 
 character. Irony, it may be observed, is more gentle- 
 manly than buffoonery, as the former is used simply 
 for its own sake and the latter for some ulterior object. 
 
 There are four elements or objects of the perora- c^^^. 
 tion, viz. to inspire the audience with a favourable Peroration. 
 opinion of yourself and an unfavourable one of your 
 adversary, to amplify or depreciate the subject, to 
 excite the emotions of the audience and to recall the 
 facts to their memory. For it is the natural order 
 first to prove the truth of your own case and the 
 falsity of your adversary's and, when this is done, to 
 introduce the eulogy or censure and to elaborate these 
 topics. In all this you should aim at one of two 
 objects, viz. to prove either your own virtue or the 
 wickedness of your adversary either absolutely or in 
 relation to the audience. The topics which you 
 may properly employ in representing yourself as 
 virtuous or your adversary as vicious have been pp. eo sqq. 
 already enumerated. The next step in the natural 
 order is to amplify or depreciate what has been 
 already proved by yourself or your adversary; for 
 facts must be admitted, if one is to discuss the 
 question of degree, just as the growth of a body 
 implies that it already exists. The topics of amplifi- 
 cation and depreciation have been exhibited in an w)-^^«i<i- 
 earlier part of this treatise. When this has been 
 done and the quality and magnitude of the facts are 
 clearly seen, the next thing is to work upon the 
 emotions of the audience, such as compassion, indig- 
 nation, anger, hatred, envy, jealousy and contentious- 
 ness. The topics suited to this purpose have also pp. 115 sqq. 
 
302 
 
 THE RHETORIC OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 [ill. 
 
 been described. There remains then the recapitula- 
 tion of the statements already made in the speech. 
 And here it is appropriate to do what has been some- 
 times urged, wrongly enough, as proper to be done in 
 the exordia i.e. to repeat your points several times 
 for the sake of intelligibility. In the exordium you 
 should simply state the subject, so as to elucidate the 
 matter at issue, but in the peroration you should 
 summarily mention the steps by which your case has 
 been proved. And in so doing the first thing is to 
 show that you have performed all that you promised ; 
 hence you must state the points you have made and 
 your reason for making them. One species of re- 
 capitulation consists in a comparison of one's own 
 case with one's adversary's. We may either put side 
 by side all that he said and that you said on the same 
 subject e.g. "My opponent said this, and I that, on the 
 subject, and this was my reason"; or you may 
 proceed indirectly. Or again you may use irony, e.g. 
 "My opponent said that, and I this. I wonder what 
 he would have done, if he had proved this instead of 
 that " Or interrogation e.g. "What have I failed to 
 prove?" or "What has my adversary proved?" You 
 may proceed thus or by comparison or in the natural 
 order, as was said, stating your own pohits and then, 
 if you like, your adversarj^'s points separately. 
 
 An asyndeton forms an appropriate conclusion, to 
 make it a true peroration and not an oration, e.g. "I 
 have spoken, you have heard me ; the case is in your 
 hands, pronounce your judgment". 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 AchiUes 24, 127, 193, 198, 216, 
 
 239, 287 
 iEgina 260 
 .Eginetans 192, 197 
 JEnesidemus 91 
 ^schines 290 
 iEscbylus quoted 160 
 iBsion quoted 260 
 JEsop 181, 183 
 Agathon quoted 177, 218 
 Agesipolis 203 
 Ajax 209 
 AlcaeuB 63 
 Alcibiades 171 
 Alcidamas 93 
 
 quoted 195, 202, 236, 
 237, 238 
 
 Alcinous 288 
 
 Alcmaeon 196 
 
 Alexander (Paris) 198, 203, 217, 
 277 
 
 Alexander 206 
 
 Amasis 151 
 
 Amphiaraus 165 
 
 Anaxagoras 202 
 
 Anaxandrides quoted 260, 267 
 
 Androcles 209 
 
 Androtion 239 
 
 Antigone 93 
 
 Antimachus quoted 245 
 
 Antiphon 121, 146 
 
 quoted 198, 207 
 
 Antisthenes 240 
 
 Aphrodite 211 
 
 Archelaus 201 
 
 Arcliibius 105 
 
 Archidamus 239 
 Archilochus 202 
 
 quoted 297 
 Archytas 264 
 
 Areopagus, Court of 2, 203 
 Argos 99 
 Aristides 277 
 Aristippus quoted 203 
 Aristophanes 236 
 Aristophon 199 
 Athens 201, 266 
 Athenians 65, 103, 126, 145, 191, 
 
 202, 259 
 Autocles quoted 203 
 
 Bias 167 
 Boeotians 240 
 Bryson 234 
 
 Callias 232 
 
 CalUppus 91, 204, 208 
 Callisthenes 126 
 Callistratus 49, 98, 296 
 Calydon 252 
 Carcinus 211, 291 
 Cephisodotus 240 
 
 quoted 259, 260 
 Chabrias 50, 261 
 Chaeremon 271 
 
 quoted 212 
 Chares 105, 259, 261, 295 
 Charidemus 206 
 Charon 297 
 Chians 202 
 Chilon 166, 202 
 Choerilus quoted 277, 278 
 
■*-ii* 
 
 304 INDEX. 
 
 Cimon 171 
 Cleon 249 
 Cleophon 104, 245 
 Conon 203, 211 
 Corax 218 
 Corinthians 44 
 Cratylus 290 
 Critias 104, 287 
 Croesus 242 
 Cybele 213 
 Cycnus 193 
 Cydias 145 
 
 Darius 181 
 Delphi 203 
 Demades 217 
 Democrates quoted 240 
 Democritus quoted 253 
 Demosthenes 197, 217 
 
 quoted 240 
 
 Diogenes quoted 260 
 Diomedes 193, 207, 286 
 Diomedon 196 
 
 Dion 91 
 
 Dionysius 19,146, 171 
 
 the Brazen 233 
 Diopeithes 151 
 Dodonis 201 
 Dorieus 16 
 Draco 211 
 
 Egypt 181 
 Elea 210 
 EUs 283 
 Empedocles 242 
 
 quoted 93 
 Epicharmus 54, 256 
 Epidaurus 259 
 Epimenides 294 
 Ergophilus 126 
 Eubcea 259 
 Eubulus 105 
 
 Euctemon 99 ^^^ ^^^ 
 
 Euripides 144, 230, 278, 281, 285, 
 
 289 
 quoted 78, 82, 84, 185, 
 
 186, 195, 211, 233, 
 
 252, 263, 285, 296 
 Euthydemus 214 
 
 Euthynus 178 
 Euxenus 239 
 Evagoras 203 
 EvenuB quoted 77 
 
 Gelo 91 
 Glaucon 225 
 Gorgias 248, 295 
 
 quoted 236, 238, 277, 283 
 
 Haemon 291 
 
 Harmodius 199 
 
 Harmodius and Aristogeiton 69, 
 
 200, 216 
 
 Hector 127, 193, 198 
 
 Hecuba 211 
 
 Helen 203, 217 
 
 Heracleidae 191 
 
 Heracleitus 243 
 
 Hermes 213 
 
 Herodicus 35, 211 
 
 Herodotus quoted 251, 288 
 
 Hesione 285 
 
 Hiero 172 
 
 Himera 182 
 
 Hipparchus 216 
 
 Hippolochus 69 
 
 Homer 103, 202, 264 ^^ ^^ „^ 
 
 quoted 42, 43, 54, 55, 78, 
 
 ^ 79, 80, 115, 117, 118, 
 
 126, 127, 157, 188, 239, 
 
 257, 263, 264, 270, 273, 
 
 278. 282, 288, 290, 293 
 
 Hygiaenon 285 
 
 Ida 217 
 Idrieus 239 
 Ilium 193 
 Iphicrates 55, 283 
 ^ quoted 66, 198, 199, 
 
 200, 206, 232, 261 
 Ismenias 201 
 Isocrates 69, 277, 294, 295, 297 
 
 quoted 178, 203, 248, 258, 
 
 261, 262, 263, 266 
 
 Jason 211 
 
 of Pherae 91 
 Jocasta 291 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 305 
 
 Lacedaemon 64 
 Lacedaemonians 202, 259 
 Lampon 298 
 Lampsacenes 202 
 Leodamas 49, 210^ 
 Leptines quoted 259 
 Leucothea 210 
 Licymnius 234, 271, 276 
 Lycoleon quoted 261 
 Lycophron 255 
 
 quoted 236 
 
 Locri 187 
 Lycurgus 202 
 
 Mantias 201 
 Marathon 191 
 Medea 211 
 Melanippides 254 
 Melanopus 98 
 Meleager 54, 121, 207 
 Meletus 298 
 MUtiades 259 
 Mitylenaeans 202 
 Mixidemides 203 
 Moerocles 260 
 Mysians 89 
 
 Nausicratea 283 
 Nicanor 197 
 Niceratus 268 
 Nireus 273 
 
 Odysseus 207, 209, 285, 286 
 Olj-mpia 203 
 
 Pamphilus 208 
 Pan 213 
 Parians 202 
 Patroclus 24, 198 
 Penelope 289 
 Pentheus 212 
 Periander 104 
 
 Pericles 171 
 
 quoted 155, 240, 258, 2o9, 
 
 298 
 Persians 192 
 Phalaris 182 
 Phayllus 289 
 Philammon 269 
 Philemon 272 
 
 W. R. 
 
 Philip 199 
 
 Philocrates quoted 125 
 Philoctetes 268 
 Phocians 199 
 Pindar quoted 213 
 Pisander 300 
 Pisistratus 19 
 Pitholaus 255 
 
 quoted 259 
 Pittacus 165, 220 
 Plato 203, 248 
 
 quoted 239, 240 
 (the poet) quoted 105 
 
 Plexippus 121 
 
 Polus 211 
 
 Polycrates 215, 216 
 
 Polyeuctus 260 
 
 Poly n ices 93 
 
 Potidaeans 192 
 
 Pratys 269 
 
 Priam 285 
 
 Prodicus 281 
 
 Protagoras 219, 242 
 
 Pythagoras 202 
 
 Salamis 103, 191, 261 
 Samians 240 
 Samos 145, 182 
 Sappho 202 
 
 quoted 63, 203 
 Sciron 236 
 Sestos 259 
 Sigeans 104 
 Simonides quoted 44, 66, 171, 23» 
 
 Sisyphus 264 
 
 Socmtes 65, 171, 201, 203, 282, 
 
 298 
 Solon 202 
 
 quoted 104 
 Sophocles (the orator) 99, 284 
 
 quoted 300 
 Sophocles (the poet) 291 
 
 quoted 93, 101, 211, 
 279, 281, 285, 290, 
 297 
 Speusippus 260 
 Stasinus quoted 105 
 Stesichorus quoted 182, 187, 211, 
 
 265 
 Stilbon, 20L 
 
 20 
 
306 
 
 Strabax 206 
 Hyracusans 144 
 
 Telamon 285 
 Telephus 233 
 Tenedos 103, 216 
 Teucer 285 
 Teumessus 245 
 Theagenes 19 
 Thebans 199 
 Thebes 201, 202 
 Themistocles 104 
 Theodamas 239 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 CLASSICAL PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Theodectes quoted 196, 202, 204, 
 
 205, 206, 207, 209, 215 
 Theodorus 211, 265, 276 
 Theseus 198, 203 
 Thettaliscus 201 
 ThrasybuluB 210, 211, 215 
 Thrasymachus 211, 249 
 
 quoted 269 
 Tyndareus 198 
 
 Xenophanes 109, 206, 210 
 Xerxes 181, 236 
 
 Zeno 87 
 
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