Institutio Oratoria

Consequently in my opinion artistic structure gives force and direction to our thoughts just as the throwing-thong and the bowstring do to the spear and the arrow. And for this reason all the best scholars are convinced that the study of structure is of the utmost value, not merely for charming the ear, but for stirring the soul.

For in the first place nothing can penetrate to the emotions that stumbles at the portals of the ear, and secondly man is naturally attracted by harmonious sounds. Otherwise it would not be the case that musical instruments, in spite of the fact that their sounds are inarticulate, still succeed in exciting a variety of different emotions in the hearer.

In the sacred games different methods are employed to excite and calm the soul, different melodies are required for the war-song and the entreaty sung by the suppliant on bended knee, while the war-note of the trumpet that leads the army forth to battle has no resemblance to the call that sounds the retreat.

It was the undoubted custom of the Pythagoreans, when they woke from slumber, to rouse their souls with the music of the lyre, that they might be more alert for action, and before they retired to rest, to soothe their minds by melodies from the same instrument, in order that all

But if there is such secret power in rhythm and melody alone, this power is found at its strongest in eloquence, and, however important the selection of words for the expression of our thoughts, the structural art which welds them together in the body of a period or rounds them off at the close, has at least an equal claim to importance. For there are some things which, despite triviality of thought and mediocrity of language, may achieve distinction in virtue of this excellence alone.

In fact, if we break up and disarrange any sentence that may have struck us as vigorous, charming or elegant, we shall find that all its force, attraction and grace have disappeared. Cicero in his Orator breaks up some of his own utterances in this way:

Neque me divitiae movent, quibus omnes Africanos et Laelios multi venalicii mercatoresque superarunt. Change the order but a little so that it will run multi superarunt mercatores venaliciique,

Cicero also corrects passages in the speeches of Gracchus where the structure appears to him to be harsh. For Cicero this is becoming enough, but we may content ourselves with testing our own power of welding together in artistic form the disconnected words and phrases which present themselves to us. For why should we seek elsewhere for examples of faults which we may all of us find in our own work? One point, however, it is enough simply to notice—that the more beautiful in thought and language the sentence which you deprive of such structural cohesion, the more hideous will

Accordingly, although I admit that artistic structure, at any rate in perfection, was the last accomplishment to be attained by oratory, I still hold that even primitive orators regarded it as one of the objects of their study, as far at least as the rudeness of their attainments permitted. For even Cicero for all his greatness will never persuade me that Lysias, Herodotus and Thucydides were careless in this respect.

They may not perhaps have pursued the same ideals as Demosthenes and Plato, and even these latter differed in their methods. For it would never have done to spoil the fine and delicate texture of Lysias by the introduction of richer rhythms, since he would thus have lost all that surpassing grace which he derives from his simple and unaffected tone, while he would also have sacrificed the impression of sincerity which he now creates. For it must be remembered that he wrote his speeches for others to deliver, so that it was right that they should suggest a lack of form and artistic structure: indeed his success in producing this effect actually shows his mastery of structure.

Again history, which should move with speed and impetuosity, would have been ill-suited by the halts imposed by the rounding off of the period, by the pauses for breath inevitable in oratory, and the elaborate methods of opening sentences and bringing them to a close. It is however true that in the speeches inserted by historians we may note something in the way of balanced cadences and antitheses. As regards Herodotus, while his flow, in my opinion, is always gentle, his

However I shall speak of the different ideals a little later: my immediate task is to teach the student elementary rules which are essential if correctness of structure is to be attained. There are then in the first place two kinds of style: the one is closely welded and woven together, while the other is of a looser texture such as is found in dialogues and letters, except when they deal with some subject above their natural level, such as philosophy, politics or the like.

In saying this, I do not mean to deny that even this looser texture has its own peculiar rhythms which are perhaps the most difficult of all to analyse. For dialogues and letters do not demand continual hiatus between vowels or absence of rhythm, but on the other hand they have not the flow or the compactness of other styles, nor does one word lead up so inexorably to another, the structural cohesion being loose rather than non-existent.

Again in legal cases of minor importance a similar simplicity will be found to be most becoming, a simplicity, that is to say, that does not dispense with rhythm altogether, but uses rhythms of a different kind, conceals them and employs a certain secrecy in their construction.

But the more closely welded style is composed of three elements: the comma, or as we call it incisum, the colon, or in Latin menbrum, and the period, [*]( See § 122; comma, colon, period, now applied to stops, originally referred to varying lengths of clauses or sentences. ) which Roman writers call ambitus, circumductum, continuatio or conclusio. Further, in all artistic structure there are three necessary qualities, order, connexion and rhythm.

which must be considered in connexion with words taken both singly and in conjunction. Words taken singly are known as asyndeta (unconnected). In dealing with them we must take care that our style does not diminish in force through the fact that a weaker word is made to follow a stronger: as, for example, if after calling a man a despoiler of temples we were to speak of him as a thief, or after styling him a highwayman were to dub him an insolent fellow. For sentences should rise and grow in force: of this an excellent example is provided by Cicero, [*](Phil. II. xxv. 63. ) where he says,

You, with that throat, those lungs, that strength, that would do credit to a prizefighter, in every limb of your body

men and women,

day and night,

rising and setting,

In some cases a change in the order will make a word superfluous: for example, we write fratres gemini rather than gemini fratres (twin-brothers), since if gemini came first, there would be no necessity to add fratres. The rule which some have sought to enforce that nouns should precede verbs, and verbs adverbs, while epithets and pronouns should follow their substantives, is a mere extravagance, since the reverse order is often adopted with excellent effect.

Another piece of extravagant pedantry is to insist that the first place should always be occupied by what is first

If the demands of artistic structure permit, it is far best to end the sentence with a verb: for it is in verbs that the real strength of language resides. But if it results in harshness of sound, this principle must give way before the demands of rhythm, as is frequently the case in the best authors of Rome and Greece. Of course, in every case where a verb does not end the sentence, we shall have an hyperbaton, [*](See VIII. vi. 62 sqq.) but hyperbaton is an admitted trope or figure, and therefore is to be regarded as an adornment.

For words are not cut to suit metrical feet, and are therefore transferred from place to place to form the most suitable combinations, just as in the case of unhewn stones their very irregularity is the means of suggesting what other stones they will best fit and what will supply them with the surest resting-place. On the other hand, the happiest effects of language are produced when it is found possible to employ the natural order, apt connexion and appropriate rhythm.

Some transpositions are too long, as I have pointed out in previous books, [*](Only, apparently, in VIII. ii. 14.) while at times they involve faulty structure, although some writers actually aim at this vicious type of transposition, in order to create an appearance of freedom and license, as in the following phrases from Maecenas, sole et aurora rubent plurima ; [*](They grow red in the sunlight and the fullness of dawn. The meaning is uncertain, plurima might be neut. nom. plural. ) inter se sacra movit aqua fraxinos ; [*](The sacred stream ran through the ash-grove.) ne exequias quidem unus inter miserrimos viderem meas. [*](May I never, alone amidst the most miserable of men, behold my own funeral rites.) The worst feature in these examples, is that he plays pranks