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                <requestUrn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:10.7.8-10.7.20</requestUrn>
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                <urn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:10.7.8-10.7.20</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text xml:lang="eng"><body><div n="urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2" type="translation" xml:lang="eng"><div n="10" type="textpart" subtype="book"><div n="7" type="textpart" subtype="chapter"><div n="8" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> For facility is mainly the result of habit and exercise and, if it be
                            lost only for a brief time, the result will be not merely that we fall
                            short of the requisite rapidity, but that our lips will become clogged
                            and slow to open. For although we need to possess a certain natural
                            nimbleness of mind to enable us, while we are saying what the instant
                            demands, to build up what is to follow and to secure that there will
                            always be some thought formed and conceived in advance ready to serve
                            our voice, none the less, </p></div><div n="9" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> it is scarcely possible either for natural gifts or for methodic art to
                            enable the mind to grapple simultaneously with such manifold duties, and
                            to be equal at one and the same time to the tasks of invention,
                            arrangement, and style, together with what we are uttering at the
                            moment, what we have got to say next and what we have to look to still
                            further on, not to mention the fact that it <pb n="v10-12 p.139"/> is
                            necessary all the time to give close attention to voice, delivery and
                            gesture. </p></div><div n="10" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> For our mental activities must range far ahead and pursue the ideas
                            which are still in front, and in proportion as the speaker pays out what
                            he has in hand, he must make advances to himself from his reserve funds,
                            in order that, until we reach our conclusion, our mind's eye may urge
                            its gaze forward, keeping time with our advance: otherwise we shall halt
                            and stumble, and pour forth short and broken phrases, like persons who
                            can only gasp out what they have to say. </p></div><div n="11" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> There is, therefore, a certain mechanical knack, which the Greeks call
                                <foreign xml:lang="grc">ἄλογος τριβή,</foreign> which enables the
                            hand to go on scribbling, while the eye takes in whole lines at once as
                            it reads, observes the intonations and the stops, and sees what is
                            coming before the reader has articulated to himself what precedes. It is
                            a similar knack which makes possible those miraculous tricks which we
                            see jugglers and masters of sleight of hand perform upon the stage, in
                            such a manner that the spectator can scarcely help believing that the
                            objects which they throw into the air come to hand of their own accord,
                            and run where they are bidden. </p></div><div n="12" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> But this knack will only be of real service if it be preceded by the art
                            of which we have spoken, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">§§
                                5–7.</note> so that what is irrational in itself will nevertheless
                            be founded on reason. For unless a man speaks in an orderly, ornate and
                            fluent manner, I refuse to dignify his utterance with the name of
                            speech, but consider it the merest rant. </p></div><div n="13" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Nor again shall I ever be induced to admire a continuous flow of random
                            talk, such as I note streams in torrents even from the lips of women
                            when they quarrel, although, if a speaker is swept away by <pb n="v10-12 p.141"/> warmth of feeling and genuine inspiration, it
                            frequently happens that he attains a success from improvisation which
                            would have been beyond the reach of the most careful preparation. </p></div><div n="14" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> When this occurred, the old orators, such as Cicero, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">No such saying is found in
                                Cicero's extant works.</note> used to say that some god had inspired
                            the speaker. But the reason is obvious. For profound emotion and vivid
                            imagination sweep on with unbroken force, whereas, if retarded by the
                            slowness of the pen, they are liable to grow cold and, it put off for
                            the moment, may never return. Above all, if we add to these obstacles an
                            unhealthy tendency to quibble over the choice of words, and check our
                            advance at each step, the vehemence of our onset loses its impetus;
                            while even though our choice of individual words may be of the happiest,
                            the style will be a mere patchwork with no regular pattern. </p></div><div n="15" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Consequently those vivid conceptions of which I spoke <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">VI. ii. 29.</note> and which, as
                            I remarked, are called <foreign xml:lang="grc">φαντασίαι,</foreign>
                            together with everything that we intend to say, the persons and
                            questions involved, and the hopes and fears to which they give rise,
                            must be kept clearly before our eyes and admitted to our hearts: for it
                            is feeling and force of imagination that make us eloquent. It is for
                            this reason that even the uneducated have no difficulty in finding words
                            to express their meaning, if only they are stirred by some strong
                            emotion. </p></div><div n="16" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Further the attention of the mind must be directed not to some one
                            thing, but simultaneously to a number of things in continuous sequence.
                            The result will be the same as when we cast our eyes along some straight
                            road and see at once all that is on and near it, obtaining a view not
                            merely of its end, but of the whole way there. Dread of the shame of
                            failure is also a powerful stimulant to oratory, <pb n="v10-12 p.143"/>
                            and it may be regarded as a matter for wonder that, whereas when writing
                            we delight in privacy and shrink from the presence of witnesses, in
                            extempore pleading a large audience has an encouraging effect, like that
                            which the sight of the massed standards has on the soldier. </p></div><div n="17" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> For the sheer necessity of speaking thrusts forward and forces out our
                            labouring thought, and the desire to win approbation kindles and fosters
                            our efforts. So true is it that there is nothing which does not look for
                            some reward, that eloquence, despite the fact that its activity is in
                            itself productive of a strong feeling of pleasure, is influenced by
                            nothing so much as the immediate acquisition of praise and renown. </p></div><div n="18" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Nor should any man put such trust in his native ability as to hope that
                            this power will present itself to him at the outset of his career as an
                            orator; for the precepts which I laid down for premeditation <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">Ch. vi. 3.</note> apply to
                            improvisation also; we must develop it by gradual stages from small
                            beginnings, until we have reached that perfection which can only be
                            produced and maintained by practice. </p></div><div n="19" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Moreover, the orator should reach such a pitch of excellence that, while
                            premeditation may still be the safer method, it will not necessarily be
                            the better, since many have acquired the gift of improvisation not
                            merely in prose, but in verse as well, as, for example, Antipater of
                            Sidon and Licinius Archias (for whose powers we have the unquestionable
                            authority of Cicero <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">De Or.</hi> iii. 194; <hi rend="italic">Pro
                                    Arch.</hi> viii. 18. </note> ), not to mention the fact that
                            there are many, even in our own day, who have done this and are still
                            doing it. I do not, however, regard this accomplishment as being
                            particularly valuable in itself, for it is both unpractical and
                            unnecessary, but mention it as a useful example to encourage students
                                <pb n="v10-12 p.145"/> training for the bar, in the hope that they may
                            be able to acquire this accomplishment. </p></div><div n="20" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Still our confidence in our power of speaking extempore should never be
                            so great that we should neglect to devote a few minutes to the
                            consideration of what we are going to say. There will but rarely be
                            occasions when this is impossible, while in the lawsuits of the courts
                            there is always some time allowed for the purpose. For no one can plead
                            a cause with the facts of which be is unacquainted. </p></div></div></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
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