Institutio Oratoria

For the less help we get from the language, the more must we rely on inventiveness of thought to bring us through the conflict. We must discover sentiments full of loftiness and variety, must stir all the emotions and illumine our style by brilliance of metaphor. Since we cannot be so delicate, let us be stronger. If they beat us for subtlety, let us prevail by weight, and if they have greater precision, let us outdo

Even the lesser orators of Greece have their own havens where they may ride in safety, [*]( Owing to the subtlety and delicacy of the Greek language even second-rate talent will he able to win distinction in dealing with minor things. But the coarser and more full-blooded nature of Latin makes this difficult. ) while we as a rule carry more sail. Let stronger gales fill our canvas, and yet let us not always keep the high seas; for at times we must cling to shore. The Greeks can easily traverse any shallows; I must find a deeper, though not much deeper, channel, that my bark may not run aground.

For even though the Greeks surpass us where circumstances call for delicacy and restraint, though we acknowledge their superiority in this respect alone, and therefore do not claim to rival them in comedy, that is no justification for our abandonment of this department of oratory, but rather a reason why we should handle it as best we can. Now we can at any rate resemble the Greeks in the method and judgement with which we treat our matter, although that grace of language, which our words cannot provide, must be secured by the admixture of foreign condiments.

For example, is not Cicero shrewd, simple and not unduly exalted in tone, when he deals with private eases? Is not Calidius also distinguished for the same virtue? Were not Scipio, Laelius and Cato the Attic orators of Rome? Surely we ought to be satisfied with them, since nothing can be better.

There are still some critics who deny that any form of eloquence is purely natural, except that which closely resembles the ordinary speech of everyday life, which we use to our friends, our wives, our children and our slaves, a language, that is to say, which contents itself with expressing the purpose of the mind without seeking to discover anything in the way of elaborate and far-fetched phraseology.

Such language may be compared to the bodies of athletes, which although they develop their strength by exercise and diet, are of unnatural growth and abnormal in appearance. For what, say these critics, is the good of expressing a thing by periphrasis or metaphor (that is, either by a number of words or by words which have no connexion with the thing), when everything has been allotted a name of its own?