Topica
Topica Hellenistic Cicero, Marcus Tullius LatinYour kindness, Gaius Trebatius, has called me back, from the very course on which I was running, to write greater things—greater than even these books, of which I have published a good many in a short space of time. For when you were with me at my place in Tusculum, and we were each separately in the library unrolling the little volumes we wished, each in pursuit of his own study, you happened upon a certain Topics of Aristotle, which has been set out by him in several books. Stirred by the title, you at once asked me the gist of those books;
and when I had explained it to you—namely that they contain a method, discovered by Aristotle, for finding arguments, so that we might arrive at them by reason and a regular path without any error—you, modestly, as you do in all things, yet plainly enough for me to see that you were burning with eagerness, pressed me to impart that doctrine to you. And when I had urged you, not so much to spare myself the labour as because I judged it to be in your own interest, either to read the books yourself or to receive the whole method from some most learned rhetorician, you tried both, so I gathered from you. But their obscurity drove you back from the books;
and that great rhetorician, I believe, replied that he knew nothing of these Aristotelian matters. At which I was not in the least surprised that a philosopher should be unknown to a rhetorician, seeing that he is unknown even to the philosophers themselves, save for a very few; and these deserve all the less indulgence, since they ought to have been drawn not only by the matters which he stated and discovered, but also by a certain incredible richness, and even charm, of expression.
I could not, therefore, deny you any longer, as you asked me this so often and yet feared to be a burden to me—for I could easily see that—lest an injustice should seem to be done to the very interpreter of the law himself. For since you had often written much on behalf of myself and my friends, I was afraid that, if I made difficulties, it might seem either ungrateful or arrogant. But while we were together, you are the best witness of how busy I was;
and after I parted from you, setting out for Greece, since neither the state nor my friends made use of my services, and I could not honourably take part amid arms—not even if I were permitted to do so in safety—as soon as I came to Velia and saw you and yours, being reminded of this debt I was unwilling to fail even your unspoken demand. And so, since I had no books with me, I composed these things in the very course of the voyage, recalling them from memory, and sent them to you from my journey, so that by my diligence in your commission I might rouse you also—though you need no reminder—to the memory of our discussions. But it is now time to come to the task we have set ourselves.
Since every careful method of reasoning has two parts, one of finding and the other of judging, the founder of both, as it seems to me at least, was Aristotle. The Stoics, however, laboured at the second: for they pursued diligently the ways of judging by that science which they call dialectic, but the art of finding, which is called topic—which was both more useful for practice and certainly prior in the order of nature—they left wholly aside.
We, however, since there is the greatest usefulness in both, and intend to pursue both, if there be leisure, will begin with that which is prior. As, then, the finding of things that are hidden is easy once the place has been pointed out and marked, so, when we wish to track down some argument, we must know the places; for so Aristotle named these, as it were the seats from which arguments are drawn.
Accordingly one may define a place as the seat of an argument, and an argument as a course of reasoning which produces conviction in a doubtful matter. But of these places in which arguments are enclosed, some inhere in the very thing under discussion, and others are taken from without. In the thing itself: now from the whole, now from its parts, now from a mark, now from those things which are in some way related to that which is in question. From without, on the other hand, are drawn those things which lie apart and are far removed.
But to the whole matter under discussion definition is applied, which unrolls, as it were, the thing in question that has been wrapped up. The formula of such an argument is of this kind: The civil law is equity established for those who belong to the same state, for the obtaining of their own property; but the knowledge of that equity is useful; therefore the science of the civil law is useful.—
Then comes the enumeration of parts, which is handled in this way: If a man has not been made free by the census, nor by the rod, nor by testament, he is not free; but he is free by none of these means; therefore he is not free.—Then the noting of a word, when from the force of a word some argument is drawn, in this manner: Since the law commands that a man of property be the surety for a man of property, it commands a rich man for a rich man; for such a man is called a man of property—as Lucius Aelius says—from giving money.
Arguments are also drawn from those things which are in some way related to that which is in question. But this kind is distributed into several parts. For some we call conjugates, some are from the genus, some from the species, some from likeness, some from difference, some from contraries, some from adjuncts, some from antecedents, some from consequents, some from incompatibles, some from causes, some from effects, some from comparison of greater or equal or lesser things.
Conjugates are called those which come from words of the same family. And words of the same family are those which, springing from one source, are variously inflected, as wise, wisely, wisdom. This conjugation of words is called syzygia, from which there is an argument of this kind: If land is held in common pasturage, there is a right of common pasturage. From the genus it is drawn thus:
Since all the silver was bequeathed to the wife, that money which was left counted out in the house cannot fail to have been bequeathed; for the species is never separated from the genus, so long as it keeps its own name, and counted money keeps the name of silver; therefore it seems to have been bequeathed.
From the species of the genus—which one may sometimes call the part, that it may be the more plainly understood—thus: If money was so bequeathed to Fabia by her husband on condition that she had become a matron of his household to that husband; if she had not passed into his hand, nothing is owed. For wife is the genus; of it there are two species: one of matrons of the household, the other of those who are held to be merely wives. And since Fabia was in this latter division, the legacy does not seem valid.
From likeness thus: If those buildings have collapsed, or are falling into decay, of which the usufruct has been bequeathed, the heir is not bound to rebuild or repair them, any more than he is bound to make good a slave, if the slave of whom the usufruct had been bequeathed had perished. From difference:
It does not follow, if a husband bequeathed to his wife all the silver that was his, that on that account the sums outstanding as debts were bequeathed. For it makes a great difference whether silver is laid up in a coffer or in account-books.
From a contrary, thus: That woman, to whom her husband bequeathed the usufruct of his goods, the wine-cellars and oil-stores being left full, ought not to think that this belongs to her. For the use, not the using-up, has been bequeathed.
From adjuncts: If that woman has made a will who never underwent loss of civil status, possession does not seem to be granted according to that will under the praetor's edict. For it is an adjunct that possession should seem to be granted by the edict according to the wills of slaves, of exiles, of children.
From antecedents, however, and consequents and incompatibles, thus; from antecedents: If the divorce came about by the husband's fault, even though the wife sent the notice, nevertheless nothing ought to be retained on account of the children. From consequents:
If a woman, when she had been married to a man with whom there was no right of intermarriage, sent the notice of divorce; since those who are born do not follow the father, nothing ought to be retained on account of the children. From incompatibles:
If the head of a household bequeathed to his wife the usufruct of the female slaves, charged upon his son, and did not charge it upon the second heir, then, on the son's death, the woman will not lose the usufruct. For what has once been given to anyone by a will cannot be taken from him to whom it was given against his will. For it is incompatible rightly to receive and unwillingly to give back. From efficient causes, thus:
All men have the right to join a straight wall to a common wall, whether solid or arched. But one who, in demolishing a common wall, has given a guarantee against damage not yet done, will not be bound to make good the damage which the arch has caused. For the damage was done not through the fault of him who did the demolishing, but through the fault of that structure which had been so built that it could not be held up.
From effects, thus: When a woman has passed into her husband's hand, all that was the woman's becomes the husband's under the name of dowry. From comparison, again, all things of this kind hold good: What holds good in the greater matter, let it hold good in the lesser—as, if in a city boundaries are not regulated, neither should the diverting of water be forbidden in a city. So likewise in reverse: What holds good in the lesser, let it hold good in the greater. The same example may be reversed. Likewise: What holds good in an equal matter, let it hold good in this which is equal—as: Since the period of usucapion for a farm is two years, let it be so also for buildings. But in the law buildings are not named, and they belong to that class of all other things of which the usucapion is one year. Let equity hold good, which in equal cases demands equal rights.
But those things which are taken from without are drawn chiefly from authority. And so the Greeks call such argumentations atechnoi, that is, devoid of art, as if you should reply thus: Since Publius Scaevola declared that to be the only "circuit" of buildings where a roof was thrown out for the sake of sheltering a common wall, from which roof the water fell into the buildings of the man who had thus extended his roof, this seems to you to be the law.
By these places, then, which have been set forth, there is given, as by certain elements, the indication and demonstration for finding every argument. Is this, then, enough thus far? For you, so keen-witted and so busy, I think it is. But since I have received an eager man at this feast of learning, I will so entertain him that there should rather be something left over than that I should suffer you to depart from here unsatisfied.
Since, then, each one of those places which I have set forth has certain members of its own, let us pursue these as minutely as possible, and first let definition itself be treated. Definition is a statement which explains what the thing defined is. And there are two primary kinds of definitions: one of things that exist, the other of things that are conceived.
I call those things existent which can be seen and touched, as a farm, a house, a wall, an eaves-drip, a slave, a beast, furniture, provisions, and the rest; of which class certain things must sometimes be defined by you. Again, I call those things non-existent which cannot be touched or pointed out, yet can be discerned by the mind and conceived, as if you should define usucapion, or guardianship, or clan, or agnation—things which have no body underlying them, yet have a certain shape, marked out and impressed upon the understanding, which I call a notion. This, in arguing, must often be unfolded by definition.
And further, some definitions are of partitions, others of divisions: of partitions, when the thing which has been proposed is, as it were, cut up into members—as if one should say that the civil law is that which consists in statutes, decrees of the senate, decided cases, the authority of those skilled in the law, the edicts of magistrates, custom, and equity. But a definition by division embraces all the species which fall under the genus that is being defined, in this manner: Alienation is the handing over of a thing that is subject to ownership, to another by formal conveyance, or its cession before a magistrate, between those who can lawfully transact such matters by the civil law. There are also other kinds of definitions, but they have nothing to do with the purpose of this book; only this much must be said: what the method of definition is.
Thus, then, the ancients teach: when you have taken those features which the thing you wish to define has in common with others, pursue them until something proper is produced, which can be transferred to no other thing. As here: An inheritance is property. This is so far common; for there are many kinds of property. Add what follows: which comes to someone by the death of another. It is not yet a definition; for the property of the dead can be held in many ways apart from inheritance. Add one word, lawfully; now the thing will seem set apart from the common, so that the definition is fully unfolded thus: An inheritance is property which comes to someone lawfully by the death of another. It is not yet enough; add: and not such as has either been bequeathed by will or retained by possession; it is completed. Likewise: Clansmen are those among themselves who bear the same name. It is not enough. Who are sprung from free-born ancestors. Not even that is enough. None of whose ancestors was ever a slave. It is still wanting. Who have not undergone loss of civil status. This perhaps is enough. For I see that Scaevola the pontiff added nothing to this definition. And this method holds good in both kinds of definitions, whether that which exists, or that which is conceived, is to be defined.
We have shown of what sort the kind of partitions and of divisions is, but it must be said more plainly how they differ from one another. In partition there are, as it were, members—as of the body: head, shoulders, hands, sides, legs, feet, and the rest; in division there are species, which the Greeks call eide, and our own writers, if any happen to treat of these things, call species—not at all a bad word, indeed, but inconvenient for varying the cases in speaking. For I should not wish to say specierum and speciebus, even if it could be said in Latin; and one must often use these cases; whereas I should gladly say formis and formarum. And since the same thing is signified by either word, I do not think convenience in speaking should be neglected.
Genus and species they define thus: A genus is a notion pertaining to several differences; a species is a notion whose difference can be referred to the head and, as it were, the source of the genus. I call a notion what the Greeks call sometimes ennoia, sometimes prolepsis. It is the implanted and mentally preconceived knowledge of any thing, in need of unfolding. Species are those into which a genus is divided without the omission of any; as if one should divide right into statute, custom, and equity. He who thinks that species are the same as parts confuses the art, and, thrown into disorder by a certain likeness, does not distinguish acutely enough the things which ought to be kept apart.
Often, too, both orators and poets define by a transferred word, drawn from likeness, with a certain charm. But I will not depart from your own examples, except of necessity. My colleague and friend Aquilius, then, when the question was about shores—all of which you hold to be public property—when those whom it concerned asked what a shore was, used to define it thus: where the wave plays at its furthest reach; that is, just as if one should choose to define youth as the flower of life, old age as the setting of life; for, using metaphor, he was departing from the words proper and peculiar to the things. So much for definitions; let us look at the rest.
Partition must be so used that you leave no part out; thus, if you wish to partition guardianships, you would act ignorantly were you to pass over any one. But if you partition the formulas of stipulations or of actions, it is no fault to omit something in a matter that is unlimited. The same thing, however, is a fault in division. For the number of species which fall under each genus is fixed; whereas the distribution of parts is often more unbounded, like the drawing off of channels from a spring.
And so in the rhetorical arts, when a kind of question has been proposed, how many species of it there are is added absolutely. But when precepts are given concerning the embellishments of words or of thoughts, which they call figures, the same does not happen. For the matter is more unlimited; so that from this too may be understood what we mean by the difference between partition and division. For although the terms seemed to mean almost the same thing, yet, since the things differed, they wished the names of the things to differ also.
Much, too, is taken from notation. And this is when an argument is drawn from the force of a name; which the Greeks call etymologia, that is, the word-for-word truth-telling of a word; but we, avoiding the novelty of a not very apt term, call this kind "notation," because words are the marks of things. And so Aristotle indeed calls it symbolon, which in Latin is "mark." But when it is understood what is meant, one need labour the less about the name.
Much, then, in disputation is drawn from a word by notation, as when it is asked what postliminium is—I do not say what the cases of postliminium are; for that would fall under division, which is of this sort: By postliminium these return: a man, a ship, a pack-mule, a horse, a mare that is wont to take the bit—but when the very force of postliminium is in question and the word itself is noted; wherein our friend Servius, I believe, thinks nothing is to be noted except post, and holds that liminium is a lengthening of the word, just as in finitimus, legitimus, aeditimus there is no more of -timum than there is of -tullium in meditullium; but Scaevola
thinks it is a word compounded of P and F, so that there is in it both post and limen; so that things which, having been alienated from us, once they have reached the enemy, have gone out, as it were, from their own threshold (limen)—when these have come back hither, after, to the same threshold, they seem to have returned by postliminium. By this kind of reasoning the case of Mancinus too can be defended: that he returned by postliminium; that he was not surrendered, since he was not received; for neither a surrender nor a gift can be understood without a receiving.
Next follows that place which consists of those things which are in some way related to that which is in dispute; which I said a little while ago was distributed into several parts. Of these the first place is from conjugation, which they call syzygia, neighbour to the notation of which we have just spoken; as, if we were to understand by rain-water only that which we saw collected from a shower, Mucius would come forward who, because pluvia and pluendo are conjugate words, would say that all water that had increased by raining ought to be kept off.
But when an argument is drawn from the genus, it will not be necessary to fetch it all the way from the head. Often, too, one may stop short, provided only that what is taken is above that for which it is taken; as rain-water, in its ultimate genus, is that which, coming from the sky, increases by the shower, but in a nearer genus—in which, as it were, the right of keeping it off is contained—is harmful: the species of that genus are water harmful by fault of the ground and water harmful by the work of man's hand, of which the one is ordered by the arbitrator to be controlled, the other is not ordered.
This argumentation which is taken from the genus is also conveniently handled when from the whole you pursue the parts, in this manner: If there is malicious fraud, when one thing is done and another pretended, one may enumerate the ways in which it occurs, and then include the thing which you charge in some one of them as done with malicious fraud; which kind of argument is usually thought especially firm.
Likeness follows, which ranges widely, but more for orators and philosophers than for you. For although all places are common to all disputations for furnishing arguments, yet in some disputations they occur more abundantly, in others more narrowly. Therefore let the kinds be known to you; but where you should use them, the questions themselves will remind you.
For there are likenesses which arrive at their goal by means of several comparisons, in this manner: If a guardian is bound to keep faith, if a partner, if anyone to whom you have given a charge, if one who has accepted a trust, then an agent too is bound. This, arriving at its goal from several instances, is called induction, which in Greek is named epagoge, of which Socrates made great use in his conversations.
The other kind of likeness is taken by a single comparison, when one thing is compared with one, equal with equal, in this manner: Just as, if in a city there is a dispute about boundaries—because boundaries seem to belong rather to fields than to the city—you cannot compel an arbitrator to regulate the boundaries, so, if rain-water does harm in a city, since the whole matter belongs rather to fields, you cannot compel an arbitrator to keep off the rain-water.
From this same place of likeness, examples too are taken, as Crassus in the Curian case used very many examples—of men who had so instituted their heirs by will that, if a son were born within ten months and died before he came into his own guardianship, they should obtain the inheritance. This recital of examples carried weight, and you are wont to make much use of it in giving counsel.
For invented examples have the force of likeness; but these are matters for orators rather than for you; although you too are wont to use them, but in this way: Suppose that someone has conveyed by formal conveyance that which cannot be so conveyed. Has it, on that account, become his who received it? Or has he who conveyed it bound himself by anything on that account? In this kind it is granted to orators and philosophers that even dumb things should speak, that the dead should be raised from the underworld, that something which can in no way come to pass should be said for the sake of magnifying or diminishing a matter—which is called hyperbole—and many other marvels. But theirs is the broader field. Yet from the same places, as I said before, arguments are drawn both for the greatest and for the smallest questions.
After likeness follows difference, a thing most contrary to the foregoing; but it belongs to the same faculty to find the unlike and the like. Of this kind are these: It does not follow that, just as what you owe to a woman you may rightly pay to the woman herself without the authorization of her guardian, so likewise what you owe to a ward, male or female, you may rightly pay in the same way.
Next comes the place which is called "from a contrary." But there are several kinds of contraries; one of those which differ most within the same genus, as wisdom and folly. And those are said to be within the same genus, against which, when they are proposed, certain contraries present themselves as if from the opposite quarter—as slowness against swiftness, not weakness. From such contraries arise arguments of this sort: If we flee folly, let us follow wisdom; and goodness, if we flee wickedness. These, which are contraries within the same genus, are called "adverse."
For there are other contraries, which we may call in Latin privatives, and which the Greeks call steretika. For by prefixing in- the word is deprived of that force which it would have if in- had not been prefixed: worth, worthlessness; humanity, inhumanity, and the rest of the same kind, whose handling is the same as that of the foregoing which I called adverse.
For there are also other kinds of contraries, such as those which are compared with something, as double and single, many and few, long and short, greater and less. There are also those very strong contraries which are called negatives; these in Greek are apophatika, contrary to affirmatives: If this is, that is not. For what need is there of an example? Let only this much be understood: that in seeking an argument, not all contraries fit with contraries.
From adjuncts, indeed, I gave an example a little while ago—that many things must be added which would have to be undertaken if we had laid it down that, under the edict, possession should be granted according to that will which a man had made who had no capacity of making a will. But this place is more valid for conjectural cases, which are dealt with in the courts, when it is asked what is, or has happened, or will be, or what can come about at all.
And such, indeed, is the form of the place itself. This place reminds us to inquire what happened before the matter, what at the time of the matter, what after the matter. "This is nothing to the law; it is for Cicero," our friend Gallus used to say, if anyone referred any such thing to him, so that the inquiry was about a fact. You, however, will permit no place of the art I have set up to be passed over by me; lest, if you think nothing should be written except what pertains to you, you should seem to love yourself too much. This place, then, is for the most part an oratorical one, belonging not only not to jurisconsults, but not even to philosophers.
For before the matter such things as these are inquired into: preparations, conversations, the place, an appointment, a banquet; at the time of the matter: the sound of feet, the shadows of bodies, and anything of that kind; but after the matter: pallor, blushing, faltering, and any other signs of disturbance and a guilty conscience, besides a fire put out, a bloodstained sword, and the rest of the things which can stir suspicion of the deed.
Next comes the place proper to the dialecticians, from consequents and antecedents and incompatibles. For conjuncts, of which we spoke a little before, do not always come to pass; but consequents always do. For I call consequents those which necessarily follow a thing; and likewise antecedents and incompatibles. For whatever follows any thing coheres with that thing necessarily; and whatever is incompatible is of such a kind that it can never cohere. Since, then, this place is distributed into three parts—consequence, antecedence, incompatibility—the place for finding the argument is single, but for handling it is threefold. For what does it matter, when you have assumed this, that counted money is owed to the woman to whom all the silver was bequeathed, whether you conclude the argument in this way: If coined money is silver, it has been bequeathed to the woman. But coined money is silver. Therefore it has been bequeathed.—Or in that way: If counted money has not been bequeathed, counted money is not silver. But counted money is silver; therefore it has been bequeathed.—Or in that way: It is not both the case that the silver has been bequeathed and that the counted money has not been bequeathed. But the silver has been bequeathed; therefore the counted money has been bequeathed?
Now the dialecticians call that conclusion of an argument, in which, when you have assumed the first proposition, there follows that which was annexed to it, the first mode of conclusion; when you have denied that which was annexed, so that what it was annexed to must also be denied, that is called the second mode of concluding; and when you have denied certain conjuncts, and from them have taken one or more, so that what remains must be removed, that is called the third mode of conclusion.
From this come those conclusions of the rhetoricians drawn from contraries, which they themselves call enthymemes; not that every sentiment is not, by its proper name, called an enthymeme, but, just as Homer, on account of his excellence, makes the name common to poets among the Greeks his own, so, although every sentiment is called an enthymeme, yet, because that which is made up of contraries seems the most pointed, it alone has properly taken possession of the common name. Of this kind are these:
To fear this, and not to put the other in the place of fear!
Her whom you accuse of nothing, do you condemn; her whom you declare to have deserved well of you, do you treat ill? That which you know profits nothing; does that which you do not know harm?
This kind of reasoning touches your discussions too, somewhat, in giving counsel, but more those of the philosophers, who share with the orators that conclusion drawn from incompatible propositions which is called by the dialecticians the third mode, by the rhetoricians the enthymeme. The remaining modes of the dialecticians are more numerous, which consist of disjunctions: Either this or that; but this; therefore not that. Likewise: Either this or that; but not this; therefore that. These conclusions are valid because in a disjunction more than one cannot be true.
And of those conclusions which I wrote above, the former is called by the dialecticians the fourth mode, the latter the fifth. Then they add the denial of conjunctions, thus: Not both this and that; but this; therefore not that. This is the sixth mode. The seventh: Not both this and that; but not this; therefore that. From these modes innumerable conclusions arise, in which lies almost the whole of dialectic. But not even these which I have set forth are necessary for this instruction.
Next is the place of efficient things, which are called causes; then of things effected by efficient causes. Examples of these, as of the other places, I gave a little while ago from the civil law; but these extend more widely. There are two kinds of causes: one, which by its own force certainly produces that which is subject to that force, as Fire kindles; the other, which does not have the nature of producing, but without which a thing cannot be produced, as if one should choose to call bronze the cause of a statue, because the statue cannot be produced without it.
Of this kind of causes—those without which a thing is not produced—some are quiet, doing nothing, in a manner inert, as place, time, material, tools, and the rest of the same kind; others, however, bring a certain forerunning to the production, and contribute something of themselves which is helpful, though not necessary, as: A meeting had supplied the cause for love, love for disgrace. From this kind of causes, depending from eternity, fate is woven by the Stoics. And as I have divided the kinds of those causes without which a thing cannot be produced, so the kinds of efficient causes too can be divided. For some causes are such as plainly produce with no help, others such as require help, as: Wisdom alone, by itself, makes men wise; whether it alone, by itself, makes them happy too is a question.
Wherefore, when an efficient cause that necessarily produces something falls into a discussion, it will be permitted, without hesitation, to conclude what is produced from that cause. But when the cause is such that there is in it no necessity of producing, the necessary conclusion does not follow. And that kind of cause indeed which has a necessary force of producing does not generally bring error; but this, without which a thing is not produced, often throws into confusion. For it does not follow that, if sons cannot exist without parents, therefore there was in the parents a cause necessarily producing.
This, then, "that without which a thing does not come to be," must be carefully separated from "that in which it certainly comes to be." For the former is like:
Would that in the grove of Pelion—
For unless "the fir timbers had fallen to the ground," that famous Argo would not have been made; yet there was not in these timbers a necessary force of production. But when upon the ship of Ajax the curling fiery thunderbolt was hurled, the ship is necessarily set ablaze.
And there is also a dissimilarity of causes, in that some are such as to produce their work, as it were, without any inclination of the mind, without will, without belief—as that everything that has arisen should perish; while others produce either by will, or by disturbance of the mind, or by habit, or by nature, or by art, or by chance: by will, as you, when you read this little book; by disturbance, as if someone should fear the outcome of these times; by habit, as one who is easily and quickly angered; by nature, as that a vice should grow day by day; by art, as that one paints well; by chance, as that one sails prosperously. None of these is without a cause, nor indeed is anything at all; but causes of this kind are not necessary.
Now of all causes, in some there is constancy, in others there is not. In nature and art there is constancy, in the rest none. But nevertheless, of those causes which are not constant, some are evident, others lie hidden. Evident are those which touch the inclination and judgment of the mind; hidden are those which are subject to fortune. For since nothing comes to pass without a cause, this very thing is the outcome of fortune: it is brought about by an obscure cause, and in a hidden way. Also of the things which come to pass, some are unknown, some voluntary: unknown, those which are brought about by necessity; voluntary, those which are brought about by deliberation.
For to throw a weapon is a matter of will, to strike one whom you did not wish to strike is a matter of fortune. From which comes that "battering-ram" which is brought up in your pleadings: If the weapon fled from his hand rather than that he threw it. Disturbances of the mind, too, fall under ignorance and want of foresight; which, although they are voluntary—for they are cast down by reproach and admonition—yet have such violent motions that things which are voluntary seem sometimes either necessary, or at least unknown.
The whole place of causes, then, being unfolded, from their difference, in great cases—of orators or philosophers—a great abundance of arguments is supplied; but in yours, if not more abundant, perhaps more subtle. For private trials, even of the greatest matters, seem to me to lie in the wisdom of the jurisconsults. For they both are much present and are called into counsels, and supply spears, as it were, to diligent advocates who flee to their wisdom.
In all those trials, then, in which the words "in good faith" have been added, and where also there is "as ought to be done in good faith between good men," and chiefly in the arbitration concerning a wife's property, in which there is the phrase "whatever is the more equitable and the better," they ought to be prepared for these things. They have handed down what one is bound to render to another in respect of malicious fraud, of good faith, of the equitable and good; what partner is bound to render to partner, what one who has managed another's affairs is bound to render to him whose those affairs were, what one who gave a charge, and what one to whom a charge was given, is bound to render; what husband to wife, what wife to husband. It will be permitted, then, to those who have carefully learned the places of arguments—not only to orators and philosophers, but also to those skilled in the law—to discourse copiously upon the consultations brought to them.
Joined to this place of causes is that place which is produced from causes. For as a cause shows what has been effected, so what has been effected demonstrates what the cause was. This place is wont to supply to orators and poets, and often to philosophers too—but to those who can speak ornately and copiously—a wonderful abundance of speech, when they announce what is to come from each thing. For the knowledge of causes produces the knowledge of outcomes.
There remains the place of comparison, of which the kind and an example were given above, as of the rest; now the handling must be set forth. Those things, then, are compared which are called either greater or lesser or equal; and in these the following are regarded: number, kind, force, and even a certain relation to certain things.
By number things will be compared thus: that more goods be preferred to fewer goods, fewer evils to more evils, more lasting goods to shorter ones, goods spread far and wide to narrow ones, from which more goods are propagated and which more people imitate and produce. By kind they are compared thus: that things to be sought for their own sake be preferred to those sought for the sake of something else, and inborn and implanted things to acquired and adventitious ones, whole things to defiled ones, pleasant to less pleasant, honourable even to the useful themselves, easy to laborious, necessary to unnecessary, one's own to another's, rare to common, things to be desired to those you can easily do without, perfect to incomplete, the whole to the parts, things using reason to those without reason, voluntary to necessary, animate to inanimate, natural to non-natural, the work of art to that not of art.
Force, again, is discerned in comparison thus: an efficient cause is weightier than a non-efficient; things content with themselves are better than those which need others; things in our own power than those in the power of others; stable than uncertain; things which cannot be snatched away than those which can. And relation to certain things is of this kind: the advantages of leading men are greater than those of the rest; and likewise things that are more pleasant, that are approved by more people, that are praised by all the best men. And as these things are better in comparison, so worse are those that are contrary to them.
The comparison of equals, however, has neither raising nor lowering; for it is on a level. But there are many things that are compared by their very equality, which are generally concluded thus: If to help fellow-citizens by counsel and to help them by aid is to be set in equal praise, then those who give counsel and those who defend ought to be of equal glory; but the first is so; therefore that which follows is so too. The whole instruction for finding arguments is now complete, so that, when you have set out from definition, from partition, from notation, from conjugates, from genus, from species, from likeness, from difference, from contraries, from adjuncts, from consequents, from antecedents, from incompatibles, from causes, from effects, from comparison of greater, lesser, and equal things, no further seat of an argument need be sought.
But since at the outset we divided the matter so as to say that some places inhere in the very thing in dispute—concerning which enough has been said—and others are taken from without, let us say a little about these latter, although they have nothing at all to do with your discussions; yet let us complete the whole matter, since we have begun. For you are not the kind of man whom nothing delights but the civil law, and since these things are so written for you that they are also likely to come into the hands of others, let effort be made that we may be of as much profit as possible to those whom upright studies delight.
This argumentation, then, which is called "devoid of art," rests upon testimony. By testimony we now mean everything which is taken from some external source for the producing of conviction. But not every sort of person carries the weight of testimony; for to produce conviction authority is required; but authority is conferred either by nature or by circumstance. The authority of nature lies chiefly in virtue; but in circumstance there are many things which confer authority: talent, wealth, age, art, experience, necessity, and even, sometimes, the concurrence of fortuitous events. For men of talent, and the wealthy, and those approved by length of years, they think worthy to be believed—not rightly, perhaps, but the opinion of the crowd can scarcely be changed, and to it both those who judge and those who form opinions direct everything. For those who excel in the things I have mentioned seem to excel in virtue itself.
But in the rest of the things too which I have just enumerated, although there is in them no appearance of virtue, yet conviction is sometimes confirmed, if either some art is employed—for great is the power of knowledge for persuading—or experience; for generally those who have had experience are believed. Necessity, too, produces conviction, which arises now from bodies, now from minds. For both the things which men say when worn out by stripes, torture, and fire, the truth itself seems to say, and the things which come from disturbances of the mind—grief, desire, anger, fear—since they have the force of necessity, bring authority and conviction.
Of this kind are also those things from which the truth is sometimes found: childhood, sleep, want of foresight, drunkenness, madness. For little children have often disclosed something, ignorant of its bearing, and through sleep, wine, and madness many things have often been brought to light. Many men, too, have stumbled unawares upon hateful matters, as lately happened to Staienus, who spoke certain things while good men listened secretly with a wall between; and when these had been brought to light and produced in court, he was justly condemned on a capital charge.
The concurrence of fortuitous things is of this sort: as when someone is come upon by chance, either while something was being done that ought not to be revealed, or while something was being said. To this kind belongs also that multitude of suspicions of treason cast upon Palamedes; which kind of charge the truth can sometimes scarcely refute. Of this kind too is the rumour of the crowd, a certain testimony of the multitude. But the things which produce conviction by virtue are of two sorts; of which the one is strong by nature, the other by industry. For the virtue of the gods excels by nature, that of men by industry.
The testimonies of the gods are generally these: first, of utterance—for oracles are so called from this very thing, that there is in them the utterance of the gods; then, of events, in which there are, as it were, certain divine works: first the universe itself and all its order and adornment; next the flights of birds through the air and their songs; then the sounds and fires of that same air, and the portents of many things upon the earth, and also the foreknowledge found through entrails; and many things signified to sleepers by visions. From which places testimonies of the gods are sometimes wont to be taken for producing conviction.
In a man the opinion of virtue counts for most. And the opinion is not only that those have virtue who do have it, but also that those have it who seem to have it. And so those whom they see endowed with talent, with zeal, with learning, and whose life is steadfast and approved—as of Cato, Laelius, Scipio, and very many others—they reckon to be such as they themselves would wish to be; nor do they think only those to be such who are engaged in public honours and affairs of state, but also orators and philosophers and poets and historians, from whose both sayings and writings authority is often sought for the producing of conviction.
Now that all the places of argumentation have been set forth, this is the first thing to be understood: that there is no disputation into which some place does not enter, but that not nearly all places fall into every question, and that to certain questions some places are more fitting, to others, others. There are two kinds of questions: one unlimited, the other limited. The limited is what the Greeks call hypothesis, we a case; the unlimited what they call thesis, we may name a proposition.
A case is discerned by definite persons, places, times, actions, transactions—either in all or in most of these; but a proposition either in some one of these or in several, yet not in the chief ones. And so a proposition is a part of a case. But every question is about some one of those things by which cases are constituted—either one, or several, or sometimes all.
Now of questions "about whatever matter" there are two kinds: one of knowledge, the other of action.
Of knowledge are those whose end is knowledge, as if it should be asked whether right has proceeded from nature or from some, as it were, agreement and compact of men. Of action, however, examples are of this sort: Whether it is for the wise man to enter public life. Questions of knowledge are of three parts: it is asked either whether a thing is, or what it is, or of what sort it is. Of these the first is explained by conjecture, the second by definition, the third by the distinction of right and wrong. The method of conjecture is distributed into four parts, of which one is when it is asked whether a thing is; the second, whence it arose; the third, what cause produced it; the fourth, in which there is inquiry about the alteration of the thing. "Whether it is" thus: Is there anything honourable, anything truly equitable; or do these things exist only in opinion? "Whence it arose" thus: as when it is asked whether virtue can be produced by nature or by teaching. The efficient cause is inquired into thus: by what means eloquence is produced. About alteration thus: whether eloquence can, by some change, be turned into inarticulateness.
But when it is asked what a thing is, the notion must be unfolded, and the property, and the division, and the partition. For these are attributes of definition; description, too, is added, which the Greeks call charakter. The notion is inquired into thus: whether that is equitable which is useful to him who is more powerful. The property thus: whether sickness falls upon man alone or also upon beasts. Division and, in the same way, partition: whether there are three kinds of goods. Description: of what sort the miser is, of what sort the flatterer, and the rest of the same kind, in which both the nature and the life are described.
But when it is asked of what sort a thing is, the inquiry is either simple or comparative; simple: Whether glory is to be sought; comparative: Whether glory is to be preferred to riches. Of simple inquiries there are three kinds: about the to-be-sought and the to-be-avoided, about the equitable and the inequitable, about the honourable and the base. Of comparisons there are two: one about the same and another, the other about the greater and the less. About the to-be-sought and the to-be-avoided, of this sort: Whether riches are to be sought, whether poverty is to be avoided. About the equitable and the inequitable: Whether it is equitable to take vengeance for an injury, from whomever you have received it. About the honourable and the base: Whether it is honourable to die for one's country?
From the other kind, which was of two parts, one is about the same and another: What is the difference between a friend and a flatterer, a king and a tyrant; the other is about the greater and the less, as if it should be asked whether eloquence is worth more or the science of the civil law. So much for questions of knowledge.
The questions of action remain, of which there are two kinds: one pertaining to duty, the other to the rousing, or quieting, or wholly removing of an emotion of the mind. To duty thus, as when it is asked whether children should be undertaken. To the moving of minds belong exhortations to the defence of the state, to praise, to glory; of which kind are complaints, incitements, and tearful appeals to pity; and again speech that now extinguishes anger, now snatches away fear, now checks exultant joy, now wipes away grief. And since these are the kinds in questions of proposition, the same are transferred to cases.
Now it must next be seen what places are suited to each kind of question. All of them indeed are suited to most questions, but some to some, as I have said, more fitly than others. For conjecture, then, those things are most apt which can be taken from causes, from effects, from conjuncts. To definition belongs the method and science of defining. And to this kind that is neighbour which we said was called "about the same and about another," which kind is a sort of form of definition; for if it should be asked whether obstinacy and perseverance are the same, the matter must be judged by definitions.
The places of consequent, antecedent, incompatible will fit a question of this kind; the adjunct, too, to those which are taken from causes and effects. For if that thing follows this thing, but does not follow that; or if that precedes this thing, but does not precede this; or if it is incompatible with this thing, but not incompatible with that; or if of this thing this is the cause, of that another; or if from one thing this, from another that has been effected: from any of these it can be found whether the thing in question is the same or another.
To the third kind of question, in which it is asked of what sort a thing is, there fall into comparison those things which were a little before enumerated in the place of comparison. But to that kind in which the inquiry is about the to-be-sought and the to-be-avoided are applied those things which are either of the mind or of the body or external, whether advantages or disadvantages. And likewise, when the inquiry is about the honourable and the base, all the discourse must be directed to the goods or evils of the mind.
But when there is discussion about the equitable and the inequitable, the places of equity will be gathered. These are discerned under two heads, both by nature and by ordinance. Nature has two parts: the rendering to each man of his own, and the right of taking vengeance. The ordinance of equity, however, is of three parts: one part is statutory, another is conventional, the third confirmed by the antiquity of custom. About the proposition enough has been said; next, fewer things must be said about the case. For most of its features are common to it with the proposition.
There are three kinds of cases: the judicial, the deliberative, the laudatory. The ends of these themselves declare what places are to be used. For the end of the judicial is right, whence also the name. And the parts of right have been set forth, together with those of equity. The end of the deliberative is advantage, of which the parts are those which were just now set forth. The end of the laudatory is honour, of which likewise it has been spoken before.
But the limited questions are each furnished from their own places, as it were proper to them, . . . which are divided into accusation and defence; in which there arise these kinds, that the accuser charge a person with a deed, and the defender oppose one of three things: either that it was not done, or, if it was done, that it has another name than that deed, or that it was done rightly. And so let the first be called either the issue of denial or the conjectural, the second the definitive, the third—however troublesome this name may be—let it be called the qualitative. The arguments proper to these cases, taken from those places which we set forth, have been explained in the precepts of oratory.
The refutation of an accusation, in which there is the warding off of the charge, since it is called in Greek stasis, let it be called in Latin status; in which the defence first takes its stand, having engaged, as it were, to resist. And in deliberations too and in laudations the same issues arise. For things are often denied to be going to come about which have been said by someone in his opinion to be going to be, if they either cannot come about at all, or cannot without the greatest difficulty; in which argumentation the conjectural issue arises;
or, when something is discussed about advantage, honour, equity, and about those things which are contrary to these, there occur the issues either of right or of name; which same thing happens in laudations. For either it can be denied that the deed which is praised was done, or that it should be marked with the name with which the praiser marked it, or that what was done not rightly, not lawfully, is praiseworthy at all. Of all which kinds Caesar made all too shameless use against my friend Cato.
But that dispute which is produced from the issue, the Greeks call krinomenon; it pleases me—since indeed I am writing to you—to have it called "the point at issue." And those things by which this "point at issue" is contained, let them be called the "containing points," the supports, as it were, of the defence, which being removed, there is no defence. But since in deciding controversies nothing ought to be firmer than law, effort must be made that we employ law as helper and witness. In which matter there arise other, as it were, new issues, but let them be called legal disputes.
For then it is maintained that the law does not say what the adversary wishes, but something else. And this happens when the writing is ambiguous, so that two differing meanings can be received. Then against the writing is set the will of the writer, so that it is asked whether the words or the intention ought to have the greater force. Then a contrary law is brought against a law. These are the three kinds which can make a controversy in any writing: ambiguity, the discrepancy of the writing and the intention, contrary writings. Now this is plain, that the same controversies can arise no more in laws than in wills, in stipulations, and in the rest of the matters which are transacted in writing. The handling of these is explained in other books.
And not only the continuous pleadings but also the parts of the speech are aided by the same places, partly proper, partly common; as in the opening, in which it must be brought about by proper places that the hearers be well-disposed, teachable, and attentive; and likewise that the narrations look to their own ends, that is, that they be plain, brief, clear, credible, measured, and dignified. Which qualities, although they ought to be present in the whole speech, are nevertheless more proper to narration.
As to the proof which follows the narration, since it is produced by persuading, the places which are most effective for persuading have been mentioned in those works in which I treated of the whole method of speaking. The peroration has both certain other elements and especially amplification, whose effect ought to be this, that minds be either disturbed or calmed, and, if they have been so affected already before, that the speech either increase their motions or quiet them.
For this kind, in which pity and anger and hatred and envy and the other emotions of the mind are stirred up, precepts are supplied in other books, which you will be able to read with me when you wish. But to that which I had perceived you to wish, abundant satisfaction ought to have been given to your desire.
For, that I might not pass over anything pertaining to the finding of an argument in every method, I have embraced more than was desired by you, and have done what generous sellers are often wont to do: when they have sold a house or a farm, with the fixtures and felled timber reserved, they nevertheless concede something to the buyer which seems to have been set, fitly and in its place, for the sake of adornment; so to you, in addition to that which we were bound to convey, as it were, by formal conveyance, we have wished certain ornaments, not owed, to be added.