It consists of three parts, order, connexion and rhythm. The method of its achievement lies in addition, subtraction and alteration of words. Its practice will depend upon the nature of our theme. The care which it demands is great, but, still, less than that demanded by expression and thought. Above all it is necessary to conceal the care expended upon it so that our rhythms may seem to possess a spontaneous flow, not to have been the result of elaborate search or compulsion.

But these rules of style, while part of the student's theoretical knowledge, are not in themselves sufficient to give him oratorical power. In addition he will require that assured facility which the Greeks call ἕξις I know that many have raised the question as to whether this is best acquired by writing, reading or speaking, and it would indeed be a question calling for serious consideration, if we could rest content with any one of the three.

But they are so intimately and inseparably connected, that if one of them be neglected, we shall but waste the labour which we have devoted to the others. For eloquence will never attain to its full development or robust health, unless it acquires strength by frequent practice in writing, while such practice without the models supplied by reading will be like a ship drifting aimlessly without a steersman. Again, he who knows what he ought to say and how he should say it, will be like a miser brooding over his hoarded treasure, unless he has the weapons of his eloquence ready for battle and prepared to deal with every emergency.

But the degree in which a thing is essential does not necessarily make it of immediate and supreme importance for the formation of the ideal orator. For obviously the power of speech is the first essential, since therein lies the primary task of the orator, and it is obvious that it was with this that the art of oratory began, and that the power of imitation comes next, and third and last diligent practice in writing.

But as perfection cannot be attained without starting at the very beginning, the points which come first in time will, as our training proceeds, become of quite trivial importance. Now we have reached a stage in our enquiry where we are no longer considering the preliminary training of our orator; for I think the instructions already given should suffice for that; they are in any case as good as I could make them. Our present task is to consider how our athlete who has learnt all the technique of his art from his trainer, is to be prepared by actual practice for the contests in which he will have to engage. Consequently, we must assume that our student has learned how to conceive and dispose his subject matter and understands how to choose and arrange his words, and must proceed to instruct him how to make the best and readiest use of the knowledge which he has acquired.

There can then be no doubt that he must accumulate a certain store of resources, to be employed whenever they may be required. The resources of which I speak consist in a copious supply of words and matter.

But while the matter is necessarily either peculiar to the individual case, or at best common to only a few, words must be acquired to suit all and every case. Now, if there were special words adapted to each individual thing, they would require less care, since they would automatically be suggested by the matter in hand. But since some words are more literal, more ornate, more significant or euphonious than others, our orator must not merely be acquainted with all of them, but must have them at his fingers' ends and before his very eyes, so that when they present themselves for his critical selection, he will find it easy to make the appropriate choice.

I know that some speakers make a practice of learning lists of synonyms by heart, in order that one word out of the several available may at once present itself to them, and that if, after using one word, they find that it is wanted again after a brief interval, they may be able to select another word with the same meaning and so avoid the necessity of repetition. But this practice is childish and involves thankless labour, while it is really of very little use, as it merely results in the assembly of a disorderly crowd of words, for the speaker to snatch the first that comes to hand.

On the contrary, discrimination is necessary in the acquisition of our stock of words; for we are aiming at true oratory, not at the fluency of a cheapjack. And we shall attain our aim by reading and listening to the best writers and orators, since we shall thus learn not merely the words by which things are to be called, but when each particular word is most appropriate.

For there is a place in oratory for almost every word, with the exception only of a very few, which are not sufficiently seemly. Such words are indeed often praised when they occur in writers of iambics See §§ 59 and 96. or of the old comedy, but we need do no more than consider our own special task. All words, with these exceptions, may be admirably employed in some place or other. For sometimes we shall even require low and common words, while those which would seem coarse if introduced in the more elegant portions of our speech may, under certain circumstances, be appropriate enough.

Now to acquire a knowledge of these words and to be acquainted not merely with their meaning, but with their forms and rhythmical values, so that they may seem appropriate wherever employed, we shall need to read and listen diligently, since all language is received first through the ear. It was owing to this fact that the children who, by order of a king, were brought up by a dumb nurse in a desert place, although they are said to have uttered certain words, lacked the power of speech. See Herodot. ii. 2. The children were alleged to have cried bekos, Phrygian for bread.

There are, however, some words of such a nature that they express the same sense by different sounds, so that it makes no difference to the meaning which we use, as, for instance, gladius and ensis, which may be used indifferently when we have to speak of a sword. Others, again, although properly applied to specific objects, are used by means of a trope to express the same sense, as, for example, ferrum (steel) and muro (point), which are both used in the sense of sword.

Thus, by the figure known as abuse, or catachresis. See viii. ii. 5 and vi. 34. we call all those who commit a murder with any weapon whatsoever sicarii (poniarders). In other cases we express our meaning periphrastically, as, for instance, when Virgil Ecl. i. 81. describes cheese as Abundance of pressed milk. On the other hand, in a number of instances we employ figures See i. viii. 16; ix. i. 11. and substitute one expression for another. Instead of I know, we say I am not ignorant, or the fact does not escape me, or I have not forgotten, or who does not know? or it can be doubted by none.

But we may also borrow from a word of cognate meaning. For I understand, or I feel or I see are often equivalent to I know. Reading will provide us with a rich store of expressions such as these, and will enable us not merely to use them when they occur to us, but also in the appropriate manner. For they are not always interchangeable:

for example, though I may be perfectly correct in saying, I see for I understand, it does not follow that I can say I understand for my eyes have seen, and though mucro may be employed to describe a sword, a sword does not necessarily mean the same as mucro (point).

But, although a store of words may be acquired by these means, we must not read or listen to orators merely for the sake of acquiring words. For in everything which we teach examples are more effective even than the rules which are taught in the schools, so long as the student has reached a stage when he can appreciate such examples without the assistance of a teacher, and can rely on his own powers to imitate them. And the reason is this, that the professor of rhetoric lays down rules, while the orator gives a practical demonstration.

But the advantages conferred by reading and listening are not identical. The speaker stimulates us by the animation of his delivery, and kindles the imagination, not by presenting us with an elaborate picture, but by bringing us into actual touch with the things themselves. Then all is life and movement, and we receive the new-born offspring of his imagination with enthusiastic approval. We are moved not merely by the actual issue of the trial, but by all that the orator himself has at stake.

Moreover his voice, the grace of his gestures, the adaptation of his delivery (which is of supreme importance in oratory), and, in a word, all his excellences in combination, have their educative effect. In reading, on the other hand, the critical faculty is a surer guide, inasmuch as the listener's judgment is often swept away by his preference for a particular speaker, or by the applause of an enthusiastic audience.

For we are ashamed to disagree with them, and an unconscious modesty prevents us from ranking our own opinion above theirs, though all the time the taste of the majority is vicious, and the claque may praise even what does not really deserve approval.

On the other hand, it will sometimes also happen that an audience whose taste is bad will fail to award the praise which is due to the most admirable utterances. Reading, however, is free, and does not hurry past us with the speed of oral delivery; we can reread a passage again and again if we are in doubt about it or wish to fix it in the memory. We must return to what we have read and reconsider it with care, while, just as we do not swallow our food till we have chewed it and reduced it almost to a state of liquefaction to assist the process of digestion, so what we read must not be committed to the memory for subsequent imitation while it is still in a crude state, but must be softened and, if I may use the phrase, reduced to a pulp by frequent re-perusal.