1. BUT though the peroration is a principal part of judicial causes and is chiefly concerned with the feelings, and though I have of necessity, therefore, said something of the feelings in treating of it, I could not bring the whole of that subject under one head, nor indeed should I have been justified in doing so. A duty of the orator, accordingly, still remains to be considered, which is of the greatest efficacy in securing his success and is of far more difficulty than any of those already noticed. By this, I mean influencing the minds of the judges and of molding and transforming them, as it were, to that disposition which we wish them to assume. 2. With regard to this point, I have touched on a few particulars, such as the subject called forth, but so as rather to show what ought to be done than how we may be able to effect it. The nature of the whole subject must now be considered more deeply. Throughout the whole of any cause, as I remarked, there is room for addresses to the feelings. The nature of the feelings is varied and not to be treated cursorily, nor does the whole art of oratory present any subject that requires greater study. 3. As to other matters, moderate and limited powers of mind, if they be but aided by learning and practice, may invigorate them and bring them to some fruit. Certainly there are, and always have been, no small number of pleaders who could find out, with sufficient skill, whatever would be of service to establish proofs. Such men I do not despise, though I consider that their ability extends no farther than to the communication of instruction to the judge, and, to say what I think, I look upon them as fit only to explain causes to eloquent pleaders, but such as can seize the attention of the judge and lead him to whatever frame of mind he desires, forcing him to weep or feel angry as their words influence him, are but rarely to be found. 4. But it is this power that is supreme in causes; it is this that makes eloquence effective. As to arguments, they generally arise out of the cause and are more numerous on the side that has the greater justice, so that he who gains his cause by force of arguments will only have the satisfaction of knowing that his advocate did not fail him. 5. But when violence is to be offered to the minds of the judges and their thoughts are to be drawn away from the contemplation of truth, then is this peculiar duty of the orator required. This the contending parties cannot teach; this cannot be put into written instructions. Proofs in our favor, it is true, may make the judge think our cause the better, but impressions on his feelings make him wish it to be the better, and what he wishes he also believes. 6. For when judges begin to feel indignant, to favor, to hate, or to pity, they fancy that their own cause is concerned, and as lovers are not competent judges of beauty, because passion overpowers the sense of sight, so a judge, when led away by his feelings, loses the faculty of discerning truth; he is hurried along as it were by a flood and yields to the force of a torrent 7. What effect arguments and witnesses have produced, it is only the final decision that proves, but the judge, when his feelings are touched by the orator, shows, while he is still sitting and hearing, what his inclination is. When the tear, which is the great object in most perorations, swells forth, is not the sentence plainly pronounced? To this end, then, let the orator direct his efforts; this is his work, this his labor. Without this, everything else is bare and meagre, weak and unattractive; so true is it that the life and soul of eloquence is shown in the effect produced on the feelings. 8. Of feelings, as we are taught by the old writers, there are two kinds, the first of which the Greeks included under the term πάθος (pathos) , which we translate rightly and literally by the word "passion." The other, to which they give the appellation ἦθος (ēthos), for which, as I consider, the Roman language has no equivalent term, is rendered, however, by mores, "manners;" whence that part of philosophy, which the Greeks call ἠθική (ēthikē), is called moralis, "moral." 9. But when I consider the nature of the thing, it appears to me that it is not so much mores in general that is meant, as a certain proprietas morum, or "propriety of manners," for under the word mores is comprehended every habitude of the mind. The more cautious writers, therefore, have chosen rather to express the sense than to interpret the words and have designated the one class of feelings as the more violent, the other as the more gentle and calm, under pathos they have included the stronger passions, under ēthos the gentler, saying that the former are adapted to command, the latter to persuade, the former to disturb, the latter to conciliate. 10. Some of the very learned add that the effect of pathos is but transitory; but while I admit that this is more generally the case, I consider that there are some subjects which require a permanent strain of pathos to run through the whole of them. Addresses, however, to the milder feelings require not less art and practice, though they do not call for so much energy and vehemence, and they enter into the majority of causes, or rather, in some sense, into all. 11. For as nothing is treated by the orator that may not be referred either to pathos or ēthos, whatever is said concerning honor or advantage, concerning things that may be done or may not be done, is very properly included under the term "ethic." Some think that commendation and palliation are the peculiar duties of ēthos, and I do not deny that they fall under that head, but I do not allow that they are its only object. 12. I would also add that pathos and ēthos are sometimes of the same nature, the one in a greater and the other in a less degree, as love, for instance, will be pathos, and friendship ēthos, and sometimes of a different nature, as pathos in a peroration will excite the judges, and ēthos soothe them. But I must develope more precisely the force of the term ēthos, as it seems not to be sufficiently intimated by the word itself. 13. Ēthos, of which we form a conception and which we desire to find in speakers, is recommended, above all, by goodness, being not only mild and placid, but for the most part pleasing and polite, and amiable and attractive to the hearers. The greatest merit in the expression of it is that it should seem to flow from the nature of the things and persons with which we are concerned, so that the moral character of the speaker may clearly appear and be recognized, as it were, in his discourse. 14. This kind of ēthos ought especially to prevail between persons closely connected, as often as they endure anything from each other, or grant pardon, or satisfaction, or offer admonition, all which should be free from anger or dislike. But the ēthos of a father towards his son, of a guardian towards his ward, of a husband towards his wife (all of whom manifest affection for those with whom they are offended and throw blame upon them by no other means than showing that they love them) is very different from that which is shown by an old man towards a young one from whom he has received an insult, or from that of a man of rank towards an inferior who has been disrespectful to him (for the man of rank may only be provoked, while the old man must also be concerned). 15. Of the same character, though less affecting to the feelings, are solicitations for forgiveness or apologies for the amors of youth. Sometimes, too, a little gentle raillery of another person's ardour may have its source in ēthos, though it does not proceed from such a source only. But what more peculiarly belongs to it is simulation of some virtue, of making satisfaction to some one, and εἰρωνεία (eirōneia), "irony" in asking questions, which means something different from that which it expresses. 16. Hence also springs that stronger appeal to the feelings, adapted to draw the dislike of the judge on an overbearing adversary, when, by feigning submission to him, we imply a quiet censure on his presumption. For the very fact that we yield to him proves him to be arrogant and insupportable, and orators who are fond of invective or affect liberty of speech are not aware how much more effective it is thus to throw odium on an opponent than to reproach him, since that kind of treatment renders him disliked, while reproach would bring dislike on ourselves. 17. The feeling arising from our love and regard for our friends and relatives is, we may say, of an intermediate character, being stronger than ēthos and weaker than pathos. It is not without significance, too, that we call those exercises of the schools ēthos in which we are accustomed to represent the characters of the rustic, the superstitious, the avaricious, the timid, agreeably to the thesis proposed for discussion. For as ēthos are mores or manners, we, in imitating manners, adapt our speech to them. 18. All this species of eloquence, however, requires the speaker to be a man of good character and of pleasing manners. The virtues which he ought to praise, if possible, in his client, he should possess or be thought to possess himself. Thus he will be a great support to the causes that he undertakes, to which he will bring credit by his own excellent qualities. But he who, while he speaks, is thought a bad man, must certainly speak ineffectively, for he will not be thought to speak sincerely; if he did, his ēthos or character would appear. 19. With a view to credibility, accordingly, the style of speaking in this kind of oratory should be calm and mild; it requires, at least, nothing of vehemence, elevation, or sublimity. To speak with propriety, in a pleasing manner, and with an air of probability is sufficient for it, and the middling sort of eloquence is therefore most suitable. 20. Pathos, or what we very properly call affectus or "emotion," is quite different from that which is referred to as ēthos, and that I may mark, as exactly as I can, the diversity between them, I would say that the one is similar to comedy, the other to tragedy. This kind of eloquence is almost wholly engaged in exciting anger, hatred, fear, envy, or pity, and from what sources its topics are to be drawn is manifest to all and has been mentioned by me in speaking of the exordium and peroration. 21. Fear, however, I wish to be understood in two senses, that which we feel ourselves and that which we cause to others, and I would observe that there are two sorts of invidia, "dislike," one that makes invidum, "envious," and another that makes invidiosum, "disliked." The first is applied to persons, the second to things, and it is with this that eloquence has the greater difficulty, for though some things are detestable in themselves, such as parricide, murder, or poisoning, others require to be made to appear so. 22. Such representation is made, either by showing that what we have suffered is more grievous than evils ordinarily considered great, as in these lines of Virgil, O felix una ante alias Priameia virgo, O happy thou above all other maids, (for how wretched was the lot of Andromache, if that of Polyxena, compared with hers, was happy!), 23. or by magnifying some injury that we have received, so as to make even injuries that are far less appear intolerable, such as, "If you had struck me, you would have been inexcusable; but you wounded me." But these points I shall consider with more attention when I come to speak of amplification. In the meantime, I shall content myself with observing that the object of the pathetic is not only that those things may appear grievous and lamentable, which in reality are so, but also that those which are generally regarded as inconsiderable may seem intolerable, as when we say that there is more injury in a verbal insult than in a blow or that there is more punishment in dishonor than in death. 24. For such is the power of eloquence, that it not only impels the judge to that to which he is led by the nature of the matter before him, but excites feelings which are not suggested by it or strengthens such as are suggested. This is what the Greeks call δείνωσις (deinōsis), language adding force to things unbecoming, cruel, or detestable, in which excellence, more than in any other, Demosthenes showed his extraordinary power. 25. If I thought it sufficient merely to adhere to the precepts that have been delivered, I should do enough for this part of my work by omitting nothing, at all reasonable, that I have read or learned on the subject, but it is my intention to open the deepest recesses of the topic on which we have entered and to set forth what I have acquired, not from any teacher, but from my own experience and under the guidance of nature herself. 26. The chief requisite, then, for moving the feelings of others is, as far as I can judge, that we ourselves be moved, for the assumption of grief, anger, and indignation will be often ridiculous if we adapt merely our words and looks, and not our minds, to those passions. For what else is the reason that mourners, when their grief is fresh at least, are heard to utter exclamations of the greatest expressiveness and that anger sometimes produces eloquence even in the ignorant, but that there are strong sensations in them,and sincerity of feeling? 27. In delivering, therefore, whatever we wish to appear like truth, let us assimilate ourselves to the feelings of those who are truly affected and let our language proceed from such a temper of mind as we would wish to excite in the judge. Will he grieve, let me ask, who shall hear me, that speak for the purpose of moving him, expressing myself without concern? Will he be angry, if the orator who seeks to excite him to anger and to force him to it, shows no like feeling? Will he shed tears at the words of one who pleads with dry eyes? 28. Such results are impossible. We are not burned without fire or wet without moisture, nor does one thing give to another the color which it has not itself. Our first object must be, therefore, that what we wish to impress upon the judge we may impress upon ourselves, and that we may be touched ourselves before we begin to touch others. 29. But by what means, it may be asked, shall we be affected since our feelings are not in our own power? I will attempt to say something also on this point. What the Greeks call φαντασίαι (phantasiai) we call visiones, images by which the representations of absent objects are so distinctly represented to the mind that we seem to see them with our eyes and to have them before us. 30. Whoever shall best conceive such images will have the greatest power in moving the feelings. A man of such lively imagination some call εὐφαντασίωτος (euphantasiōtos), being one who can vividly represent to himself things, voices, or actions with the exactness of reality, and this faculty may readily be acquired by ourselves if we desire it. When, for example, while the mind is unoccupied and we are indulging in chimerical hopes and dreams, as of men awake, the images of which I am speaking beset us so closely that we seem to be on a journey, on a voyage, in a battle, to be haranguing assemblies of people, to dispose of wealth which we do not possess, and not to be thinking but acting, shall we not turn this lawless power of our minds to our advantage? 31. I make a complaint that a man has been murdered; shall I not bring before my eyes everything that is likely to have happened when the murder occurred? Shall not the assassin suddenly sally forth? Shall not the other tremble, cry out, supplicate or flee? Shall I not behold the one striking, the other falling? Shall not the blood, and paleness, and last gasp of the expiring victim present itself fully to my mental view? 32. Hence will result that ἐνάργεια (enargeia), which is called by Cicero "illustration" and "evidentness," which seems not so much to narrate as to exhibit, and our feelings will be moved not less strongly than if we were actually present at the affairs of which we are speaking. Are not the following descriptions to be numbered among representations of this nature? Excussi manibus radii, revolutaque pensa: 33. Levique patens in pectore valnus; And that of the horse at the funeral of Pallas, --positis insignibus-- Has not the same poet also conceived with the deepest feeling the idea of a man's dying moments, when he says --Et dulces moriens reminiscitur Argos, 34. Where there is occasion for moving compassion too, we must endeavor to believe and to feel convinced that the evils of which we complain have actually happened to ourselves. We must imagine ourselves to be those very persons for whom we lament as having suffered grievous, undeserved, and pitiable treatment. We must not plead their cause as that of another, but must endeavor to feel for a time their sufferings, and thus we shall say for them what we should in similar circumstances say for ourselves. 35. I have often seen actors, both in tragedy and comedy, when they laid aside their mask after going through some distressing scene, quit the theater weeping, and if the mere delivery of what is written by another can add such force to fictitious feelings, what effect ought we to produce when we should feel what we express and may be moved at the condition of those who are on their trial? 36. In the schools, also, it would be proper for learners to feel moved with the subjects on which they speak and imagine that they are real, especially as we discuss matters there more frequently as parties concerned than as advocates. We assume the character of an orphan, of a person that has been shipwrecked, or one that is in danger of losing his life, but to what purpose is it to assume their characters if we do not adopt their feelings? This art I thought should not be concealed from the reader, the art by which I myself (whatever is or was my real power) conceive that I have attained at least some reputation for ability, and I have often been so affected that not only tears, but paleness and sorrow, similar to real sorrow, have betrayed my emotions.
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