Too much insistence cannot be laid upon the point that no one can be said to speak appropriately who has not considered not merely what it is expedient, but also what it is becoming to say. I am well aware that these two considerations generally go hand in hand. For whatever is becoming is, as a rule, useful, and there is nothing that does more to conciliate the good-will of the judge than the observance or to alienate it than the disregard of these considerations.

Sometimes, however, the two are at variance. Now, whenever this occurs, expediency must yield to the demands of what is becoming. Who is there who does not realise that nothing would have contributed more to secure the acquittal of Socrates than if he had employed the ordinary forensic methods of defence and had conciliated the minds of his judges by adopting a submissive tone and had devoted his attention to refuting the actual charge against him?

But such a course would have been unworthy of his character, and, therefore, he pleaded as one who would account the penalty to which he might be sentenced as the highest of honours. The wisest of men preferred to sacrifice the remnant of his days rather than to cancel all his past life. And since he was but ill understood by the men of his own day, he reserved his case for the approval of posterity and at the cost of a few last declining years achieved through all the ages life everlasting.

And so although Lysias, who was accounted the first orator of that time, offered him a written defence, he refused to make use of it, since, though he recognised its excellence, he regarded it as unbecoming to himself. This instance alone shows that the end which the orator must keep in view is not persuasion, but speaking well, since there are occasions when to persuade would be a blot upon his honour. The line adopted by Socrates was useless to secure his acquittal, but was of real service to him as a man; and that is by far the greater consideration.

In drawing this distinction between what is expedient and what is becoming, I have followed rather the usage of common speech than the strict law of truth; unless, indeed, the elder Africanus Falsely accused of having taken a bribe from King Antiochus. See Livy, XXXVIII. li. 16. is to be regarded as having failed to consult his true interests, when he retired into exile sooner than wrangle over his own innocence with a contemptible tribune of the people, or unless it be alleged that Publius Rutilius See de Or. I. liii. 227 sqq. was ignorant of his true advantage both on the occasion when he adopted a defence which may almost be compared with that of Socrates, and when he preferred to remain in exile rather than return at Sulla's bidding.

No, these great men regarded all those trifles that the most abject natures regard as advantageous, as being contemptible if weighed in the balance with virtue, and for this reason they have their reward in the deathless praise of all generations. Let not us, then, be so poor spirited as to regard the acts, which we extol, as being inexpedient.

However, it is but rarely that this distinction, such as it is, is called into play. As I have said, the expedient and the becoming will, as a rule, be identical in every kind of case. Still, there are two things which will be becoming to all men at all times and in all places, namely, to act and speak as befits a man of honour, and it will never at any time beseem any man to speak or act dishonourably. On the other hand, things of minor importance and occupying something like a middle position between the two are generally of such a nature that they may be conceded to some, but not to others, while it will depend on the character of the speaker and the circumstances of time, place and motive whether we regard them as more or less excusable or reprehensible.

When, however, we are speaking of our own affairs or those of others, we must distinguish between the expedient and the becoming, while recognising that the majority of the points which we have to consider will fall under neither head. In the first place, then, all kinds of boasting are a mistake, above all, it is an error for an orator to praise his own eloquence, and, further, not merely wearies, but in the majority of cases disgusts the audience.

For there is ever in the mind of man a certain element of lofty and unbending pride that will not brook superiority: and for this reason we take delight in raising the humble and submissive to their feet, since such an act gives us a consciousness of our superiority, and as soon as all sense of rivalry disappears, its place is taken by a feeling of humanity. But the man who exalts himself beyond reason is looked upon as depreciating and showing a contempt for others and as making them seem small rather than himself seem great.

As a result, those who are beneath him feel a grudge against him (for those who are unwilling to yield and yet have not the strength to hold their own are always liable to this failing), while his superiors laugh at him and the good disapprove. Indeed, as a rule, you will find that arrogance implies a false self-esteem, whereas those who possess true merit find satisfaction enough in the consciousness of possession. Cicero has been severely censured in this connexion, although he was far more given to boasting of his political achievements than of his eloquence, at any rate, in his speeches.

And as a rule he had some sound reason for his self-praise. For he was either defending those who had assisted him to crush the conspiracy of Catiline, or was replying to attacks made upon him by those who envied his position; attacks which he was so far unable to withstand that he suffered exile as the penalty for having saved his country. Consequently, we may regard his frequent reference to the deeds accomplished in his consulship as being due quite as much to the necessities of defence as to the promptings of vainglory.

As regards his own eloquence, he never made immoderate claims for it in his pleading, while he always paid a handsome tribute to the eloquence of the advocate, who opposed him. For example, there are passages such as the following: If there be aught of talent in me, and I am only too conscious how little it is, Pro Arch. i. I. and, In default of talent, I turned to industry for aid. Pro Quint. i. 4.

Again, in his speech against Caecilius on the selection of an accuser for Verres, despite the fact that the question as to which was the most capable pleader, was a factor of great importance, he rather depreciated his opponent's eloquence than exalted his own, and asserted that he had done all in his power to make himself an orator, Div. in Caec. xii. 40. though he knew he had not succeeded.

In his letters to intimate friends, it is true, and occasionally in his dialogues, he tells the truth of his own eloquence, though in the latter case he is careful always to place the remarks in question in the mouth of some other character. And yet I am not sure that open boasting is not more tolerable, owing to its sheer straightforwardness, than that perverted form of self-praise, which makes the millionaire say that he is not a poor man, the man of mark describe himself as obscure, the powerful pose as weak, and the eloquent as unskilled and even inarticulate.

But the most ostentatious kind of boasting takes the form of actual self-derision. Let us therefore leave it to others to praise us. For it beseems us, as Demosthenes says, to blush even when we are praised by others. I do not mean to deny that there are occasions when an orator may speak of his own achievements, as Demosthenes himself does in his defence of Ctesiphon. De Cor. 128. But on that occasion he qualified his statements in such a way as to show that he was compelled by necessity to do so, and to throw the odium attaching to such a proceeding on the man who had forced him to it.

Again, Cicero often speaks of his suppression of the Catilinarian conspiracy, but either attributes his success to the courage shown by the senate or to the providence of the immortal gods. If he puts forward stronger claims to merit, it is generally when speaking against his enemies and detractors; for he was bound to defend his actions when they were denounced as discreditable.

One could only wish that he had shown greater restraint in his poems, which those who love him not are never weary of criticising. I refer to passages such as: From the poem on his consulship. Let arms before the peaceful toga yield,Laurels to eloquence resign the field, or O happy Rome, born in my consulship! together with that Jupiter, by whom he is summoned to the assembly of the gods, and the Minerva that taught him her accomplishments ; extravagances which he permitted himself in imitation of certain precedents in Greek literature.

But while it is unseemly to make a boast of one's eloquence, it is, however, at times permissible to express confidence in it. Who, for instance, can blame the following? Phil. i. 2. What, then, am I to think? That I am held in contempt? I see nothing either in my past life, or my position, or such poor talents as I may possess, that Antony can afford to despise. And a little later he speaks yet more openly:

Or did he wish to challenge me to a contest of eloquence? I could wish for nothing better. For what ampler or richer theme could I hope to find than to speak at once for myself and against Antony?

Another form of arrogance is displayed by those who declare that they have come to a clear conviction of the justice of their cause, which they would not otherwise have undertaken. For the judges give but a reluctant hearing to such as presume to anticipate their verdict, and the orator cannot hope that his opponents will regard his ipse dixit with the veneration accorded by the Pythagoreans to that of their master. But this fault will vary in seriousness according to the character of the orator who uses such language.