Rhetoric · Book II

Aristotle · a new plain-English translation from the original language

1| [2.1.1] These, then, are the sources from which one must exhort and dissuade, praise and blame, accuse and defend, and these are the sorts of opinions and premises useful for the proofs bearing on these things; for it is about these things and out of these that the enthymemes come, speaking of each kind of speech separately. [2.1.2] But since rhetoric exists for the sake of a judgment (for people judge deliberative speeches too, and a trial is a judgment), it is necessary not only to look to the argument itself, so that it will be demonstrative and persuasive, but also to construct a certain character for oneself and to put the judge into a certain condition. [2.1.3] For it makes a great difference for persuasion, especially in deliberative speeches but also in trials, both that the speaker should appear to be a certain sort of person and that his hearers should suppose him to be disposed toward them in a certain way, and further, if they themselves happen to be disposed in some way. [2.1.4] Now the speaker's appearing to be a certain sort of person is more useful for deliberative speeches, while the hearer's being disposed in a certain way is more useful for trials; for things do not appear the same to people who love and to people who hate, nor to people who are angry and to people who are calm, but either altogether different or different in degree. To the one who loves, the person about whom he is forming a judgment seems either not to be doing wrong at all or to be doing only a small wrong, while to the one who hates, the opposite seems true; and to the one who desires something and is hopeful, if the thing that is going to happen is pleasant, it appears that it both will happen and will be good, while to the one who is unaffected or is even resentful, the opposite appears. [2.1.5] Now as for the speakers themselves being persuasive, there are three causes; for these are the number of things, apart from demonstrations, on account of which we believe. These are practical wisdom, virtue, and goodwill; for people say what is false, or give false advice, about the matters on which they speak either through all of these causes or through some one of them.

2| [2.1.6] For either through lack of sense they hold opinions that are not correct, or, holding correct opinions, they do not say what they think because of badness of character, or they are sensible and decent but not well-disposed, and for this reason it is possible that, though they know the best course, they do not advise it; and besides these there is no other case. It is therefore necessary that anyone who appears to have all of these qualities be persuasive to his hearers. [2.1.7] The sources from which one might appear sensible and serious must be taken from the things distinguished concerning the virtues; for from the same sources one might construct either someone else or himself as being of that sort. But concerning goodwill and friendship, this must be discussed among the things concerning the emotions. [2.1.8] The emotions are those things through a change in which people come to differ in their judgments, and which are accompanied by pain and pleasure — for example anger, pity, fear, and all others of this kind, and their opposites. [2.1.9] One must divide the treatment of each into three parts; I mean, for example, concerning anger, in what condition people are angry, with whom they habitually get angry, and over what sorts of things. For if we had one or two of these but not all of them, it would be impossible to produce the anger; and likewise for the others. Just as, then, in what has been said before we set out the premises in writing, so let us also do concerning these, and let us divide them in the way stated.

3| [2.2.1] Let anger, then, be a desire, accompanied by pain, for a conspicuous revenge on account of a conspicuous slight that was directed, without justification, against oneself or one's own. [2.2.2] If this is indeed what anger is, it is necessary that the angry person is always angry at some particular individual, for example at Cleon and not at man in general, and because that person has done or was about to do something to him or to his own; and it is necessary that some pleasure follow upon every case of anger, the pleasure that comes from the hope of taking revenge. For it is pleasant to think that one will attain the things one desires, and no one desires what appears impossible for himself, while the angry person desires things that are possible for himself. For this reason it has been well said of anger: that far sweeter than dripping honey, it grows in the breasts of men (Homer, Iliad 18.109-110). For a certain pleasure accompanies it, both for this reason and because people dwell on taking revenge in their thoughts; the mental image that then arises produces pleasure, just as the images of dreams do.

4| [2.2.3] Since slighting is an activity of opinion concerning something that appears to be of no worth (for we suppose both bad things and good things to be worthy of serious attention, and likewise whatever tends toward them, whereas whatever amounts to nothing or to little we suppose to be of no worth), there are three species of slighting: contempt, spite, and insolence. [2.2.4] For the person who feels contempt slights another (for people feel contempt for the things they think are of no worth, and they slight the things that are of no worth), and the person who acts spitefully also appears to slight. For spite is an obstruction of another's wishes, not in order to get something for oneself but in order that the other should not get it; since it is not for his own gain, then, he is slighting the other. For it is clear that he does not suppose he will be harmed — for then he would be afraid and would not be slighting — nor that he would gain anything worth mentioning — for then he would take care to be a friend. [2.2.5] And the person who commits insolence also slights another; for insolence is doing and saying things at which the victim feels shame, not in order that something else should come to the doer besides what has occurred, but so that he himself may take pleasure in it. For those who retaliate are not being insolent but are taking revenge. [2.2.6] The cause of the pleasure for those who commit insolence is that they think that by doing ill they are being superior to a greater degree — this is why the young and the wealthy are prone to insolence, for they think that in being insolent they are being superior. And dishonor belongs to insolence, and the person who dishonors another slights him; for what is worth nothing has no honor attached to it, whether of good or of bad. This is why Achilles, in his anger, says: he has dishonored me; for he himself keeps the prize he took (Homer, Iliad 1.356), and: as though I were some dishonored vagrant (Homer, Iliad 9.648)

5| [2.2.7] as being angry for these reasons. And people think it fitting to be given much regard by those inferior to them in birth, in power, in virtue, and in general in whatever respect the person himself is greatly superior — for example, the rich man is superior to the poor man in money, the skilled speaker is superior to the man unable to speak in speaking, the ruler is superior to the ruled, and the man who thinks himself worthy to rule is superior to the man he thinks worthy only to be ruled. This is why it has been said: great is the anger of kings nurtured by Zeus (Homer, Iliad 2.196), and: but even afterward he holds his resentment (Homer, Iliad 1.82); for they are indignant on account of their superiority. [2.2.8] Further, people are angry at those from whom they think they deserve to be well treated: these are the people they have done good to or are doing good to, either they themselves, or someone on their account, or someone belonging to them, or those they wish, or wished, to do good to. [2.2.9] It is now clear from these considerations both in what condition people themselves become angry, and with whom, and over what sorts of things. For they become angry themselves whenever they are pained; for a person who is pained desires something. So whether someone opposes him directly in some way — for example, opposing a thirsty man's desire to drink — or does not, it likewise appears to him to be doing the same thing; and whether someone acts against him, or fails to cooperate with him, or in some other way troubles him while he is in this condition, he is angry at all of them alike. [2.2.10] This is why the sick, the poor, those at war, those in love, the thirsty — in general, those who desire something and are not succeeding — are prone to anger and easily roused, most of all against those who slight their present condition: for example, a sick man is roused against those who slight him with regard to his illness, a poor man against those who slight him with regard to his poverty, a man at war against those who slight him with regard to the war, a man in love against those who slight him with regard to his love, and likewise in the other cases too; for in each case a person is prepared in advance for that particular anger by the emotion already present in him. Further, this happens also if it turns out that a person is expecting the opposite of what occurs;

6| [2.2.11] For what is contrary to expectation, when it is bad, pains more, just as what is contrary to expectation, when it is what one wants, pleases more; and this is why the seasons, the times, the states of mind, and the ages that go with these become clear: what kinds of people are easily moved to anger, and where and when, and the more they are in these conditions, the more easily moved they are. [2.2.12] People in such conditions, then, are easily moved to anger; and they grow angry at those who mock them, jeer at them, and make fun of them (for this is insolence), and at those who inflict such injuries as are signs of insolence; and such injuries must be ones done neither for any purpose nor for any advantage to those who do them, for then they already seem to be done out of insolence. [2.2.13] And they grow angry at those who speak ill of and show contempt for the things they themselves are most serious about — for example, men who pride themselves on philosophy grow angry if someone shows contempt for philosophy, and men who pride themselves on their looks if someone shows contempt for their looks, and similarly in other cases. [2.2.14] And this happens far more if they suspect that these qualities do not belong to them at all, or not strongly, or are not thought to belong to them; for when they are firmly convinced that they excel in the very respects in which they are mocked, they take no notice. [2.2.15] And they grow angry at friends more than at those who are not friends, for they think it more fitting to be treated well by friends than not. [2.2.16] And at those who are accustomed to honor them or show them regard, if these no longer treat them in the same way; for they think they are being shown contempt by these people too, on the ground that, if they were not showing contempt, they would go on treating them the same. [2.2.17] And at those who do not return a favor or do not repay one in equal measure. And at those who act contrary to them, if these are their inferiors; for all such people appear to show contempt — some as showing contempt for their inferiors, others as showing contempt coming from their inferiors.

7| [2.2.18] And people grow angry more at those held in no regard at all, if these disregard them in any way; for anger at disregard was posited as directed at those who have no claim to disregard one, and it is one's inferiors who have no claim to disregard one. [2.2.19] And they grow angry at friends if these do not speak or act well toward them, and still more if they do the opposite, and if they fail to notice that they are in need — as Antiphon's Plexippus does toward Meleager; for failing to notice is a sign of disregard, since we do not fail to notice the things we care about. [2.2.20] And at those who rejoice in their misfortunes or, in general, remain cheerful in the presence of their misfortunes; for this is a sign either of an enemy or of one who shows disregard. And at those who show no concern if they cause pain; this is also why people grow angry at those who bring bad news. [2.2.21] And at those who either hear about their own bad points or witness them; for such people are like those who show disregard, or like enemies — [2.2.22] since friends share in one's pain, while everyone feels pain at witnessing their own faults. Further, people grow angry at disregard shown by five kinds of persons: those with whom they compete for honor, those whom they admire, those by whom they wish to be admired, those whom they respect, and those among whom they feel shame; if anyone among these shows disregard, people grow angrier. [2.2.23] And at those who show disregard in matters where it would be shameful for them not to help — for example, parents, children, wives, subjects. And at those who do not return a favor, for this too is disregard, contrary to what is due. [2.2.24] And at those who speak ironically toward people who are being serious, [2.2.25] for irony shows contempt. And at those who do good to others but not to them; for this too shows contempt — not thinking them worthy of what everyone else is thought worthy of, including themselves. [2.2.26] Forgetfulness, too, produces anger — for instance, forgetting someone's name, trivial as this is; for forgetfulness too is thought to be a sign of disregard, since forgetfulness comes about through carelessness, and carelessness is a kind of disregard.

8| [2.2.27] We have now stated at once at whom people grow angry, in what state of mind, and for what reasons. Clearly, then, in a speech one must put the audience into the state of mind of people who are given to anger, and represent one's opponents as guilty of the things at which people grow angry, and as being the sort of people at whom people grow angry. [2.3.1] Since being angry is contrary to growing calm, and anger to calmness, we must grasp in what state people are calm, toward whom they are calmly disposed, and by what means they are calmed. [2.3.2] Let calming, then, be a settling and quieting of anger. [2.3.3] If, then, people grow angry at those who show disregard, and disregard is voluntary, it is clear that people are calm toward those who do none of these things, or who do them involuntarily, or who only appear to do them. [2.3.4] And toward those who wish the opposite of what they did. And toward all who behave the same way toward themselves; for no one is thought to disregard himself. [2.3.5] And toward those who admit their fault and feel regret; for as though they had paid a penalty, people's anger stops when the wrongdoers feel pain at what they have done. A sign of this is found in the punishment of household slaves: we punish more severely those who contradict us and deny their fault, but we stop being angry at those who agree that they are justly punished. The reason is that denying what is obvious is shamelessness, and shamelessness is a form of disregard and contempt; at any rate, we feel no shame before those for whom we have great contempt. [2.3.6] And people are calm toward those who humble themselves before them and do not contradict them; for such people seem to admit that they are inferior, and inferiors are afraid, and no one who is afraid shows disregard. That anger stops toward those who humble themselves is shown even by dogs, which do not bite people who sit down. [2.3.7] And people are calm toward those who are serious when dealing with people who are serious; for it seems that one is being taken seriously and not held in contempt.

9| [2.3.8] And toward those who have done them greater favors. And toward those who are in need and beg forgiveness; for these are more humbled. [2.3.9] And toward those who are not insolent, nor given to jeering, nor disregarding of anyone, or at least not of good people, or of people like themselves. [2.3.10] In general, one must work out the things that calm anger from their opposites. And people are not angry with those they fear or feel shame before, so long as they remain in that state; for it is impossible to be afraid and angry at the same time. [2.3.11] And people either do not grow angry, or grow less angry, at those who acted out of anger themselves; for such people do not appear to have acted out of disregard, since no one who is angry shows disregard — disregard is painless, while anger involves pain. [2.3.12] And people are calm toward those who feel shame before them. And clearly people are calm when they are in states contrary to anger — for instance, in play, in laughter, at a festival, in prosperity, in success, in fulfillment, in general in freedom from pain and in pleasure that is not of the insolent kind, and in a decent hope. Further, people are calm when time has passed and their anger is not fresh; for time puts an end to anger. [2.3.13] And the anger felt toward one person is put an end to by a greater punishment already exacted from another; this is why Philocrates spoke well when, the people being angry, someone said to him, Why don't you defend yourself?, and he said, Not yet. But when? When I see someone else falsely accused. For people become calm when they have spent their anger on someone else, as happened in the case of Ergophilus; for though people were harsher toward him than toward Callisthenes, they let him go, because they had condemned Callisthenes to death the day before. [2.3.14] And people are calm if they have caught the wrongdoer. And if the wrongdoers have suffered a greater evil than they themselves would have inflicted in their anger; for they think they have, so to speak, already received satisfaction.

10| [2.3.15] And if people think that they themselves are in the wrong and are suffering justly (for anger does not arise against what is just), since they no longer think they are suffering contrary to what is due, and this — being contrary to what is due — was what anger consisted in; this is why one should inflict the punishment by argument beforehand, since even slaves feel less resentment when they are punished after being shown to deserve it. [2.3.16] And people are calm if they think the wrongdoer will not perceive that it is because of them and in return for what they suffered; for anger is directed at a particular individual, as is clear from its definition. This is why it has rightly been made a habit to call Odysseus sacker of cities, on the ground that he would not have taken his revenge if the Cyclops had not perceived both by whom and for what he was punished. And so people do not grow angry either at others who fail to perceive it, or any longer at the dead, since these have suffered the ultimate thing and will feel no more pain or perception — which is what angry people are after. This is why the poet spoke well about Hector, when he wished to stop Achilles' anger against the dead man: for he rages, maltreating senseless earth. [2.3.17] This is why it is clear that those who wish to calm an audience must speak from these lines of argument, putting themselves in such a state, and representing those at whom the audience is angry as either formidable, or deserving of shame, or as having done them favors, or as having acted involuntarily, or as grieving exceedingly over what they have done. [2.4.1] Let us now say whom people love and whom they hate, and why, having first defined friendship and loving. [2.4.2] Let loving, then, be wishing for someone the things one believes to be good, for that person's own sake and not for one's own, and being disposed, so far as one is able, to bring these about. A friend is one who loves and is loved in return; and people think they are friends who believe themselves to be so disposed toward one another.

11| [2.4.3] Given these points, it follows necessarily that a friend is one who shares in one's joys over good things and shares in one's pain over painful things, not for the sake of anything else but for the sake of that person: for when the things people wish for come about, all rejoice, and at the opposite they feel pain, so that pains and pleasures are a sign of what one wishes. [2.4.4] And people are friends who hold the same things to be good and bad, and who are friends to the same people and enemies to the same people: for these necessarily wish the same things, so that whoever wishes for another what he wishes for himself appears to be a friend to that person. [2.4.5] And people love those who have done well by them, either by themselves or by those they care about, whether the benefits were great, or given eagerly, or given at critical moments, and for the sake of the recipients themselves, or those whom they suppose wish to do them well. [2.4.6] And they love the friends of their friends and those who love the people they themselves love. And they love those who are loved by the people who are loved by them. [2.4.7] And they love those who are enemies to the same people, and who hate those whom they themselves hate, and those who are hated by the people hated by them: for to all these the same things appear good, including for themselves, so that they wish the same good things for themselves as for the other — which is what being a friend was. [2.4.8] Further, people love those who are generous with money and toward saving lives: this is why they honor the free-spending and the courageous and the just. [2.4.9] They suppose such to be people who do not live off others: and such are those who live from working, and among these those who live from farming, and among the rest most of all those who work with their own hands. [2.4.10] And they love the self-controlled, because they are not unjust. [2.4.11] And they love those who mind their own business, for the same reason. And they love those with whom they wish to be friends, if these appear to wish it in return: and such are those who are good in respect of virtue and those who are well regarded either among everyone, or among the best people, or among those admired by themselves, or among those who admire them.

12| [2.4.12] Further, people love those who are pleasant to spend time and pass the day with: such are those who are easygoing and not given to pointing out faults, and not contentious or quarrelsome (for all such people are combative, and those who fight appear to wish the opposite of what one wants), [2.4.13] and those who are skillful both at making a joke and at taking one: for in both cases they are aiming at the same thing as their neighbor, being able both to be teased and to tease gracefully. [2.4.14] And they love those who praise the good qualities one has, and especially those qualities one is afraid of not having. [2.4.15] And they love people who are clean in appearance, in dress, and in their whole way of life. [2.4.16] And they love those who do not reproach them, either for their faults or for the good turns done them: for both kinds of reproach are a form of fault-finding. [2.4.17] And they love those who do not bear grudges nor hold on to complaints, but are easily reconciled: for whatever sort of people they suppose someone is toward others, they suppose the person is toward themselves as well. [2.4.18] And they love those who do not speak ill of others, and who take note neither of their neighbors' faults nor their own, but only of their good points [2.4.19] — for this is what a good person does. And they love those who do not set themselves against people who are angry or in earnest: for such people are combative. And they love those who are somehow in earnest toward them, for example admiring them and supposing them to be worthwhile and taking pleasure in them, [2.4.20] and especially those who feel this most strongly with respect to the very things in which they themselves most wish to be admired, or thought worthwhile, or found pleasant. [2.4.21] And they love those who are like them and pursue the same occupations, provided these do not get in one another's way and their livelihoods do not come from the same source; for otherwise the saying holds: 'potter against potter' (the manuscript here breaks into a few corrupt, untranslatable characters). [2.4.22] And they love those who desire the same things, as long as it is possible for both of them to share in these together; and if not, the same result follows in this case too.

13| [2.4.23] And people love those toward whom they are so disposed that they are not ashamed before them of what concerns reputation, so long as this is not out of contempt. [2.4.24] And they love those before whom they are ashamed of what concerns truth. And whomever they are ambitious in the eyes of, or by whom they wish to be emulated and not envied — these they either love or wish to be friends with. [2.4.25] And they love those with whom they act together in good undertakings, provided greater harm is not going to come to them from it. [2.4.26] And they love those who love equally both the absent and the present: this is why everyone loves people who behave this way toward the dead. And in general they love those who are strongly devoted to their friends and do not abandon them: for among good people, they love most of all those who love good people. [2.4.27] And they love those who do not put on a false front toward them: such are those who even tell of their own shortcomings, for it has been said that before friends we are not ashamed of what concerns reputation; so if the one who is ashamed does not love, then the one who is not ashamed resembles someone who does love. And they love those who are not frightening, and those before whom we feel confident: for no one loves someone he fears. [2.4.28] The kinds of friendship are comradeship, familiarity, kinship, and the like. And things productive of friendship are the doing of a favor, [2.4.29] and doing it without being asked, and, having done it, not making it known: for in this way it appears to be for the other person's own sake and not for some other reason.

14| [2.4.30] Concerning enmity and hatred, it is clear that they can be studied from their opposites. Productive of enmity are anger, spiteful mistreatment, and slander. [2.4.31] Now anger arises out of things done against oneself, whereas enmity can arise even without anything done against oneself: for if we suppose someone to be of a certain sort, we hate him. And anger is always about particular cases, for instance about Callias or Socrates, whereas hatred extends also to classes of people: for everyone hates the thief and the false accuser as such. And the one is curable in time, the other incurable. And the one is a desire for the other person's pain, the other for the other person's harm: for the angry man wants the other to perceive his anger, whereas to the man who hates it makes no difference. Now all painful things are perceptible, but the greatest evils are the least perceptible — injustice and folly: for the presence of vice causes no pain. And the one is accompanied by pain, the other is not: for the angry man feels pain, but the man who hates does not. And the one, if many things came about, might feel pity, but the other never: for the one wants the object of his anger to suffer in return, the other wants him not to exist at all.

15| [2.4.32] It is clear, then, from these points that it is possible both to demonstrate people to be enemies and friends when they are, and to make them out to be so when they are not, and to refute them when they claim to be, and, when people are disputing out of anger or out of enmity, to bring them over to whichever side one chooses to argue for. [2.5.1] What sort of things people fear, and whom, and in what state of mind, will become clear as follows. Let fear, then, be a kind of pain or disturbance arising from an impression of a future evil that is destructive or painful: for people do not fear all evils, for instance whether they will turn out unjust or slow-witted, but only those evils capable of causing great pain or destruction, and these only if they appear not far off but close at hand, so as to be imminent. For people do not greatly fear things that are far off: everyone knows he will die, but because death is not near, they give it no thought. [2.5.2] If fear is this, then, it necessarily follows that the things that are frightening are whatever appear to have great power to destroy or to inflict harms tending toward great pain: this is why even the signs of such things are frightening, for the frightening thing then appears close at hand — this is in fact what danger is, the nearness of something frightening. [2.5.3] Frightening in this way are the enmity and anger of people who have the power to do something (for it is clear that they both wish to and are able to, so that they are close to doing it), [2.5.4] and injustice possessed of power, for it is by choice that the unjust man is unjust, [2.5.5] and virtue that is being outraged, when it possesses power (for it is clear that it always wishes to act when outraged, and now it has the power), [2.5.6] and the fear of people who have the power to do something, for such a person too must necessarily be in a state of preparation, [2.5.7] and since most people are rather base and inferior when it comes to gain, and cowardly in dangers, it is generally frightening to be in another person's power, so that those who are privy to some terrible deed one has done are frightening, since they may either denounce it or abandon one.

16| [2.5.8] And people are afraid of those who are capable of doing wrong, if they themselves are capable of having wrong done to them; for people generally do wrong when they are able to. And they fear those who have been wronged, or who think they have been wronged, by them; for such people are always watching for their opportunity. And those who have done wrong, if they have power, are frightening, since they are afraid of suffering in return: [2.5.9] for such a thing was laid down above as an object of fear. And rivals for the same things, whenever the things cannot belong to both at once, are frightening; for people are always at war with such rivals. [2.5.10] And those who are frightening to people stronger than themselves are frightening; for they would be still more able to harm us, if they can harm even those stronger than they are.; and for the same reason, so are those whom people who are stronger than us fear. [2.5.11] And those who have destroyed people stronger than us are frightening, and so are those who attack people weaker than us; for either they are already to be feared, or they will be once they have grown in strength. And among those who have been wronged, and among enemies or rivals, it is not the quick-tempered and outspoken who are to be feared, but the gentle, the dissembling, and the unscrupulous; for it is unclear whether they are close to acting, so that one is never in a position to see that they are far off. [2.5.12] All frightening things are more frightening when the errors involved cannot be set right, but are either altogether impossible to remedy, or not within the sufferer's own power to remedy but in the power of his opponents; and things for which there is no help, or none easily got, are also more frightening. And to put it simply, the things that are frightening are those which, when they happen or are about to happen to others, are pitiable. Now the things that are frightening, and the things people fear, are pretty much, one may say, the greatest of these; let us now say in what state of mind people are when they feel fear. [2.5.13] If, then, fear is a pain or disturbance accompanied by an expectation of suffering something destructive, it is clear that no one who believes he will suffer nothing fears it, nor do people fear things they do not believe they will suffer, nor those from whom they do not believe they will suffer them, nor at a time when they do not believe they will. It necessarily follows, then, that fear belongs to those who believe they will suffer something, and belongs in respect of those people, those things, and that time.

17| [2.5.14] People do not believe they will suffer anything, either when they are in the midst of great good fortune and appear to be so — which is why they are insolent, contemptuous, and rash, a character that wealth, strength, an abundance of friends, and power all tend to produce — nor when they already believe they have suffered every terrible thing and have gone numb about the future, as happens to those already being led out to execution; rather, there must remain some hope of safety concerning the very thing they are struggling over. A sign of this: fear makes people inclined to deliberate, and yet no one deliberates about things beyond hope. [2.5.15] Hence one must put an audience into such a state, whenever it is advantageous that they should be afraid, by showing that they are the sort of people liable to suffer (since others greater than they have suffered), and by pointing out that people like them are suffering or have suffered, and at the hands of people they did not expect it from, and suffering the very things, at the very time, they did not expect. [2.5.16] Now that it is clear what fear is, and what the things that cause it are, and in what state of mind people feel it in each case, it is also clear from this what confidence is, and about what sorts of things people are confident, and in what state of mind they are confident; for confidence is the opposite of fear, and what inspires confidence is the opposite of what is frightening, so that confidence is hope, accompanied by an impression that the sources of safety are near at hand and that the sources of fear are either non-existent or far off. [2.5.17] The things that inspire confidence are: terrible things being far off, and sources of safety being near; the possibility of setting matters right, and the presence of many or great means of help, or both; the fact that one has neither done wrong nor been wronged; the absence of rivals altogether, or their lack of power, or, if they have power, their being friends, or having done one good, or having received good from one; or the fact that those who share the same interest are more numerous, or stronger, or both.

18| [2.5.18] People themselves are confident when in the following state: if they believe they have succeeded often and have not suffered, or if they have often gone into danger and escaped it; for people become insensible to fear in two ways — either through lack of experience, or through having means of help — just as, in dangers at sea, those inexperienced in storms are confident about what is coming, while those who have means of help are confident because of their experience. [2.5.19] And people are confident when a thing is not frightening to their equals, nor to those weaker than themselves, nor to those over whom they believe themselves stronger; [2.5.20] and they believe themselves stronger over those they have already mastered, whether these were themselves or people stronger than these or people equal to them. And confidence comes if people believe they have available to them, in greater quantity and to a greater degree, the very things by an excess of which they are formidable to others; and these are: an abundance of money, physical strength, friends, territory, and equipment for war — either all of these or the greatest of them. And confidence comes if they have wronged no one, or not many, or not the people from whom they now fear something; [2.5.21] and in general, if their relations with the gods are in good order, both in other respects and as regards signs and oracles; for anger inspires confidence, and not doing wrong but having wrong done to oneself is productive of anger, while the divine is supposed to come to the aid of those who are wronged. [2.5.22] And confidence comes whenever, in undertaking something, people believe either that they will suffer nothing or that they will succeed. So much, then, has been said about the things that are frightening and the things that inspire confidence. [2.6.1] What sorts of things people are ashamed of, and what sorts of things make them shameless, and toward whom, and in what state of mind, will be clear from what follows. [2.6.2] Let shame, then, be a certain pain or disturbance concerning those evils, whether present, past, or future, that appear to bring one into disrepute; and let shamelessness be a certain contempt and lack of feeling about these same things.

19| [2.6.3] If, then, shame is as has been defined, people necessarily feel shame at such evils as seem disgraceful either to themselves or to those they care about; and such are the deeds that proceed from vice, for instance throwing away one's shield or fleeing, since these come from cowardice; and embezzling a deposit or committing an injustice, since these come from injustice; [2.6.4] and having intercourse with whom one should not, or where one should not, or when one should not, since these come from licentiousness; [2.6.5] and making profit from small or shameful sources, or from people unable to defend themselves, such as the poor or the dead — hence even the proverb about carrying off a corpse's goods — since these come from love of shameful gain and stinginess. [2.6.6] And failing to help someone with money when one is able to, or helping less than one might; and being helped by people who are less well off than oneself; [2.6.7] and borrowing when it will look like begging, and begging when it will look like demanding repayment, and demanding repayment when it will look like begging, and praising something in a way that will look like begging for it, and doing this again even after having failed to get it once — for all these are signs of stinginess; [2.6.8] praising people to their faces is a sign of flattery, as is over-praising their good points while glossing over their bad ones, and showing excessive distress at another's pain when one is present, and all other such things — for these are signs of flattery. [2.6.9] And not enduring hardships that one's elders endure, or the soft and those in positions of greater power endure, or in general the weaker endure — all these are signs of softness. [2.6.10] And accepting benefits from another, and doing so repeatedly, and reproaching a man with the good one has done him — all these are signs of a small and mean spirit. [2.6.11] And talking about oneself all the time, and making promises about oneself, and claiming credit for what belongs to others — these are signs of boastfulness. And likewise, from each of the other vices of character, the deeds, the signs, and the things resembling them are also shameful and shameless.

20| [2.6.12] And besides these, not sharing in the fine things that everyone shares in, or that all or most who are like us share in—by "like us" I mean people of the same nation, fellow citizens, people of our own age, relatives, in general those on an equal footing—for it is already shameful not to share, for instance, in education to the extent that they do, and likewise with the other things. And all of these are more shameful if they appear to be one's own fault: for then they come more from vice, if one is oneself responsible for what has happened, is happening, or is going to happen. [2.6.13] And people feel shame at suffering, having suffered, or being about to suffer such things as lead to dishonor and reproach: these are the things that involve servicing another's body or shameful acts, one of which is being subjected to outrage. And some of these bring shame both when willing and unwilling—those connected with licentiousness—while others bring shame only when unwilling—those connected with force; for enduring these and not defending oneself comes from unmanliness or cowardice. These, then, and things like them, are what people are ashamed of. [2.6.14] But since shame is an appearance concerning disrepute, and this for its own sake and not for its consequences, and since no one cares about reputation except on account of those who form the reputation, it follows that people are necessarily ashamed before those whose opinion they take into account. [2.6.15] And they take into account those who admire them, and those whom they admire, and those by whom they wish to be admired, and those with whom they are in rivalry, and those whose opinion they do not despise. [2.6.16] Now people wish to be admired by, and do admire, those who possess some good among the things held in honor, or those from whom they happen to need urgently something of which those others are in control—lovers, for example. [2.6.17] And they are in rivalry with their equals. And they take seriously the opinion of the prudent, as being truthful; such are the older and the educated.

21| [2.6.18] And people are more ashamed of things done before the eyes and out in the open—which is why the proverb says shame lies "in the eyes"—and for this reason they feel more shame before those who will always be present and before those who watch them closely, because in both cases the thing is before their eyes. [2.6.19] And they feel shame before those who are not themselves liable to the same charges, for it is clear that such people think the opposite of what they themselves do. And before those who are not forgiving of what looks like error: for what a person does himself he is said not to resent in his neighbors, so it is clear that he does resent what he does not do himself. [2.6.20] And before those inclined to report things to many people: for it makes no difference whether people fail to think ill of you or fail to report it. Those inclined to report are people who have been wronged, because they keep watch, and slanderers—for if they report even those who have not erred, still more will they report those who have. And people whose pastime is the errors of their neighbors, such as mockers and comic poets: for these are in a way slanderers and reporters. And before those in whose eyes one has never yet failed at anything: for one is disposed as if being admired by them; that is why people feel shame before those who have just now asked something of them for the first time, as not yet having lost any reputation in their eyes—such are those who have only recently wished to become friends (for they have seen only one's best side; hence the aptness of Euripides' reply to the Syracusans), and, among those long acquainted, those who are privy to nothing discreditable. [2.6.21] People are ashamed not only of the shameful acts themselves as stated, but also of the signs of them—for instance, not only of having sex but also of the signs of having done so; and not only of doing [2.6.22] shameful things, but also of speaking of them. Likewise, people are ashamed not only before those just mentioned, but also before those who will reveal such things to them, such as their servants and friends.

22| [2.6.23] Generally, people are not ashamed before those whose opinion for truthfulness they greatly despise (for no one feels shame before children or animals), nor are they ashamed of the same things before acquaintances as before strangers, but before acquaintances they are ashamed of what seems shameful by the standard of truth, before strangers of what seems shameful by the standard of law. [2.6.24] Being disposed in this way, people would feel shame, first, if there existed toward them people of the sort we said they feel shame before. These were: those who are admired, or who admire, or by whom they wish to be admired, or from whom they need some service which they will fail to obtain if they lose their reputation—and this whether such people are actually watching (as Cydias argued in his speech to the assembly about the allotment of Samos: he urged the Athenians to imagine the Greeks standing round them in a circle, as watching and not merely going to hear what they decreed), or whether such people are nearby, or are about to become aware of it; that is why people do not wish to be seen faring badly by those who once envied them, for those who envy are admirers. [2.6.25] And people feel shame when they have acts and circumstances that disgrace them, whether their own or their ancestors' or others' with whom they have some close connection. And, in general, people feel shame on behalf of those for whom they themselves are ashamed—these are the ones already mentioned and those who trace their standing back to them, or those whose teachers or advisers they have been, or if there are others like them with whom they are in rivalry. [2.6.26] For it is largely on account of such people that, out of shame, they both do and refrain from doing things. [2.6.27] And people are more prone to shame when they are about to be seen and to move about openly among those who share the knowledge—hence Antiphon the poet, when he was about to be clubbed to death by Dionysius, seeing those who were to die with him covering their faces as they went out through the gates, said, "Why do you cover your faces? Surely it is not that one of these men might see you tomorrow?" So much, then, for shame; and it is clear that concerning shamelessness we shall have ample resources from the opposites.

23| [2.7.1] To whom people feel gratitude, for what, and in what state of mind—this will become clear once we have defined gratitude. [2.7.2] Let gratitude, then, be that on account of which the one who has it is said to "feel grateful"—a service to one in need, not in return for anything, nor for the sake of anything to the one performing the service himself, but for the sake of the other; and it is great if the person is in great need, or if the things given are great and difficult, or given at such critical times, or if the giver is alone, or the first, or foremost in giving. [2.7.3] Needs are desires, and especially those accompanied by pain at their not being satisfied. Such are the appetites, for example erotic love, and those that arise in bodily afflictions and in dangers; for the person in danger desires, and so does the person in pain. That is why those who stand by people in poverty and in exile, even if their service is small, are felt to have done a favor, because of the greatness of the need and the critical moment—for instance, the man who gave the mat in the Lyceum. [2.7.4] It is necessary, then, that the service be directed above all at the same needs, or, failing that, at needs equal to or greater than these. [2.7.5] So then, since it is clear both to whom and for what gratitude arises, and in what state of mind, it is plain that one must build one's case from these points—showing either that people are, or have been, in such pain and need, or that others have rendered, or are rendering, such a service in such a need. It is also clear from what quarter it is possible to take away gratitude and make people appear ungrateful: either by showing that they served, or are serving, for their own sake (for that was not gratitude), or that it came about by chance or under compulsion, or that they were only giving back and not giving in the first place, whether knowingly or not: for in both cases it is a return for something, so that not even in this way could it be gratitude.

24| [2.7.6] And one must examine the matter with respect to all the categories: for gratitude arises because of a this, or a so-much, or a such-a-kind, or a when, or a where. A sign is if they rendered less service, and if they rendered the same, equal, or greater services to their enemies: for it is clear that not even these were for our sake. Or if they did it knowing the things given were worthless: for no one admits to needing worthless things. [2.8.1] We have now spoken of feeling gratitude and being ungrateful; let us now say what things are pitiable, whom people pity, and in what state of mind they do so. [2.8.2] Let pity, then, be a certain pain at an apparent evil, destructive or painful, befalling one who does not deserve it, which one might expect oneself, or one of one's own, to suffer, and this when it appears near at hand: for it is clear that the person who is going to feel pity must be of such a kind as to think that he himself, or one of his own, might suffer some evil, and an evil of the kind stated in the definition, or one like it, or comparable to it. [2.8.3] That is why neither those who are utterly ruined feel pity (for they think they can no longer suffer anything further—they have already suffered it), nor those who suppose themselves supremely fortunate; instead, these latter behave with insolence. For if they think all good things belong to them, it is clear that they also think it belongs to them not to be capable of suffering any evil—for this too is among the good things. [2.8.4] Those who are of the sort to think they might suffer are: those who have already suffered and escaped, the elderly—both because of their good sense and because of experience—the weak, those more inclined to cowardice, and the educated, for they reason well. [2.8.5] And those who have parents, children, or wives: for these belong to them, and are of a kind to suffer the things mentioned.

25| [2.8.6] And those who are not in a condition of courage's affection, such as anger or confidence (for these are unreasoning about what is to come), nor in a state of insolence (for these too give no thought to what they may suffer), but those in between these states; nor again those who are in extreme fear, for people who are panic-stricken do not feel pity, because they are wholly occupied with their own affection. [2.8.7] And people feel pity if they suppose that some are decent; for the one who supposes no one decent will suppose that everyone deserves misfortune. And in general, people feel pity when they are so disposed as to recall that such things have happened to themselves or to one of their own, or to expect that they will happen to themselves or to one of their own. [2.8.8] The state of mind in which people feel pity, then, has been stated; and what they pity is clear from the definition. For all things that are destructive and painful are objects of pity, and all things that are ruinous, and all things of which chance is the cause when the evils they bring have some magnitude. [2.8.9] Things painful and destructive are: deaths, bodily assaults and injuries, old age, diseases, and lack of food. [2.8.10] And the evils of which chance is the cause are: friendlessness, having few friends (which is why being torn apart from friends and intimates is pitiable), ugliness, weakness, disfigurement, and when some evil arises from a source from which some good ought properly to have come; [2.8.11] and when this happens often; and when some good comes to a person only after he has already suffered — as when the gifts from the King were sent down to Diopeithes after he was dead; and when either no good has ever come to someone, or when goods have come but there is no enjoyment of them.

26| These, then, and things of this kind, are the grounds on which people feel pity. [2.8.12] And people pity those known to them, provided they are not too closely related by kinship (for toward these they are disposed as if the misfortune were about to happen to themselves; this is why Amasis, as they say, did not weep at the sight of his son being led away to death, but did weep at the sight of his friend begging: for the latter was pitiable, the former terrible; for the terrible is different from the pitiable and drives out pity, and is often useful for producing the opposite effect):

27| [2.8.13] for people no longer feel pity when the terrible thing is close to themselves. And people pity those like themselves in age, in character, in states of character, in reputation, in birth; for in all these cases it appears more likely that the same thing could happen to themselves as well. For here too, in general, one must grasp that whatever people fear happening to themselves, they pity when it happens to others. [2.8.14] And since sufferings that appear near at hand are pitiable, while things that happened or will happen ten thousand years off, people neither expect nor remember, and so either feel no pity at all or feel it less — it follows of necessity that those who help the effect along with gestures, voices, clothing, and acting generally are more pitiable; for they make the evil appear near, setting it before the eyes either as about to happen or as having happened. [2.8.15] And things that have just happened, or are about to happen very soon, are more pitiable. [2.8.16] And for this reason the signs of suffering are pitiable too — for example the clothing of those who have suffered, and such things, and the actions and words and everything else belonging to those in the grip of the affection, such as people actually dying. And it is especially pitiable when serious, worthy people are found in such circumstances; for all these things, because they make the suffering appear near, produce pity more, both because it appears undeserved and because it appears before the eyes. [2.9.1] Opposed to pity, most of all, is what people call righteous indignation (nemesis): for being pained at undeserved bad fortune is, in a certain way, opposed — and from the same character — to being pained at undeserved good fortune. And both affections belong to a decent character; [2.9.2] for one ought to feel sympathetic grief and pity at those who fare badly undeservedly, and to feel indignation at those who fare well undeservedly; for what happens contrary to desert is unjust, which is why we attribute righteous indignation even to the gods.

28| [2.9.3] One might think that envy too is opposed to pity in the same way, as being close to and the same as righteous indignation, but it is different. For envy too is a disturbing pain, and is felt at good fortune, but not at the good fortune of the undeserving — rather at that of one's equal and like. And the feature common to both — that it is not because something is going to happen to oneself, but because of the neighbor himself — must belong to both alike; for otherwise the one will no longer be envy and the other righteous indignation, but fear, if the pain and disturbance arise because something bad will come to oneself from that person's good fortune. [2.9.4] It is clear that the opposite affections will follow upon these as well: the person pained at those who fare badly undeservedly will feel pleasure, or at least no pain, at those who fare badly in the opposite way — for instance no decent person would be pained at parricides or murderers when they meet with punishment; one ought to rejoice at such things, and likewise also at people faring well according to desert; for both are just, and both make the decent person rejoice, since he must expect that what happens to his like will happen to himself as well. [2.9.5] And all these affections belong to the same character, and their opposites to the opposite character; for the same person is malicious-rejoicer and envious; for whatever one is pained to see coming about and existing, that same person must necessarily rejoice at its privation and destruction. Hence all these are obstacles to pity, though they differ for the reasons stated, so that they are all equally useful for the purpose of making things not appear pitiable.

29| [2.9.6] Let us, then, speak first about righteous indignation — toward whom people feel it, over what, and in what state of mind they themselves must be — and after this about the other affections. [2.9.7] It is clear from what has been said: for if righteous indignation is being pained at an apparent case of undeserved good fortune, then in the first place it is clear that one cannot feel indignation at all goods whatsoever. [2.9.8] For no one will feel indignation at a man because he is just or courageous, or because he is going to acquire virtue (nor indeed is pity felt at the opposites of these); rather it is felt over wealth, power, and things of that sort — all the things of which, to put it simply, good people and those who possess the natural goods are worthy, such as good birth, beauty, and things of that kind. [2.9.9] And since what is ancient appears close to what is natural, it follows of necessity that people feel more indignation at those who have recently come to possess the same good and who fare well because of it; for the newly rich pain people more than those who have long possessed wealth and possess it through their family. Likewise too with rulers, the powerful, those with many friends, those with good children, and anything else of that kind. And if some other good comes to people because of these, the same holds: for here too, newly rich rulers pain people more, because of their wealth, than those whose wealth is of long standing.

30| And likewise too with the other cases. [2.9.10] The reason is that the latter seem to have what is their own, the former do not; for whatever appears always to have been so seems to be true, so that the others seem not to have what is their own. [2.9.11] And since each of the goods is not fitting for just anyone, but there is a certain proportion and fittingness — for instance, splendor of arms befits not the just man but the courageous one, and distinguished marriages befit not the newly rich but the well-born — then if a good person fails to attain what is fitting for him, that is a cause for righteous indignation. And so is the case of the lesser disputing with the greater — most of all when they are in the same field, which is why this too has been said: 'But he avoided battle with Ajax, Telamon's son; for Zeus was indignant with him, when he fought a better man' (Homer, Iliad 11.542) — but if not that, then in whatever way the lesser disputes with the greater, as when a musician disputes with a just man; for justice is a better thing than music.

31| [2.9.12] From this it is clear at whom people feel righteous indignation and why; these and things like these are the causes. People themselves are prone to such indignation if they happen to be worthy of the greatest goods and actually possess them: for it is not just that people who are not equals should be deemed worthy of equal things. [2.9.13] Second, if they happen to be good and excellent people: for they judge well and hate injustice. [2.9.14] And if they are ambitious and desire certain things, especially if they are ambitious about the very things which others, though unworthy of them, happen to possess. [2.9.15] And in general those who think themselves worthy of things they do not think others worthy of are prone to indignation at those people and on these grounds; this is why slavish, base, and unambitious people are not prone to indignation, since there is nothing they think themselves worthy of. [2.9.16] From this it is clear at what sort of misfortunes, hardships, or failures one ought to feel pleasure, or at least no pain: for from what has been said the opposite cases are clear. So if a speech disposes the judges to be of this kind, and shows that those who claim to deserve pity, and the things for which they claim to deserve it, are people who happen to be unworthy of obtaining them and worthy of not obtaining them, it will be impossible to feel pity for them. [2.10.1] It is also clear on what grounds, toward whom, and in what state of mind people feel envy, given that envy is a kind of pain at the apparent good fortune of people like ourselves, in the goods already mentioned—not for the sake of gaining anything oneself, but because of those people: for such people will feel envy toward those who are, or seem to be, like them. [2.10.2] By like I mean alike in birth, in kinship, in age, in states of character, in reputation, in possessions. And they envy those who fall a little short of having everything (which is why those who achieve great things and those who are fortunate are prone to envy): for they think everyone else is carrying off what is theirs.

32| [2.10.3] And people envy those who are honored for some outstanding quality, especially for wisdom or happiness. Ambitious people are more envious than unambitious ones. So are those who merely have a reputation for wisdom, since they are ambitious about wisdom. And in general those eager for reputation in some area are envious in that area. So are small-minded people, since everything looks great to them. [2.10.4] The goods over which people feel envy have already been named: for over whatever people seek reputation and ambition, in works or possessions, and desire glory for, and whatever counts as good fortune, there is envy about nearly all of it, and especially about the things they themselves desire or think they ought to have, or things in which they are a little ahead of others or a little behind. [2.10.5] It is also clear toward whom people feel envy, since this has been said at the same time: they envy those near them in time, place, age, and reputation; hence the saying that kinship, too, knows how to envy. And they envy those against whom they are ambitious: for people are ambitious against the people just named, but no one is ambitious against those who lived ten thousand years ago, or those not yet born, or the dead, or those who live at the Pillars of Heracles. Nor against those whom they think fall far short of them, whether in their own eyes or in others', nor against those they think far surpass them—and the same holds toward these people and in such matters. [2.10.6] Since people are ambitious against rivals, against competitors in love, and in general against those who aim at the same things, they must feel envy most of all toward these; hence the saying, potter envies potter (Hesiod, Works and Days, 25). [2.10.8] And they envy those whose possession or success is a reproach to themselves (and these too are people near them and like them): for it is clear that it is because of these people that they themselves fail to get the good, so that this fact causes the pain and produces the envy.

33| [2.10.9] And they envy those who have, or have acquired, things that were fitting for themselves, or that they themselves once possessed; this is why older people envy younger ones, [2.10.10] and why those who have spent a great deal on the same object envy those who have spent little. [2.10.7] And those who obtained something with difficulty, or did not obtain it at all, envy those who obtained it quickly. [2.10.11] It is also clear over what things such people feel pleasure, toward whom, and in what state of mind: for in the state in which they feel pain, in that same state they will feel pleasure at the opposite. So if the speakers themselves are brought into this state, and those who claim to deserve pity, or to obtain some good, are of the kind just described, it is clear they will not get pity from those who hold the power to grant it. [2.11.1] From this it is also clear in what state of mind people feel emulation, over what things, and toward whom: for if emulation is a kind of pain at the apparent presence, in people like ourselves by nature, of honored goods it is possible for us to obtain—felt not because another has them but because we ourselves do not also have them (which is why emulation is a decent feeling, felt by decent people, while envy is base, felt by base people: for the one, through emulation, prepares himself to obtain the goods, while the other, through envy, works to keep his neighbor from having them)—then it follows that people are prone to emulation who think themselves worthy of goods they do not have, when it is possible for them to obtain them: for no one thinks himself worthy of things that appear impossible (which is why the young and the great-souled are of this sort). [2.11.2] So are those who possess goods of the kind that befit honored men: these are wealth, many friends, offices, and the like; for since they think it fitting for them to be good in the way that fits people in a good condition, they feel emulation over such goods. And so do those whom others think worthy of them.

34| [2.11.3] And those whose ancestors, kinsmen, relatives, nation, or city are honored feel emulation about these things: for they think these belong to them, and that they are worthy of them. [2.11.4] If honored goods are objects of emulation, then the virtues must be such objects, and so must whatever is useful and beneficial to others (for people honor those who benefit others, and the good), and whatever goods can be enjoyed by one's neighbors, such as wealth and beauty rather than health. [2.11.5] It is also clear who the objects of emulation are: those who possess these and similar goods are objects of emulation; these are the things named, for example courage, wisdom, office (for those in office can benefit many people), generals, orators, everyone with such abilities. [2.11.6] And so are those whom many wish to resemble, or who have many acquaintances, or many friends, or whom many admire, or whom they themselves admire. [2.11.7] And those of whom praises and encomia are spoken, whether by poets or by prose-writers. People feel contempt for the opposites of these: for contempt is the opposite of emulation, and to feel contempt is the opposite of to feel emulation. Those who are so disposed as to feel emulation toward some people, or to be objects of emulation, must feel contempt toward these same people and on these same grounds, whenever those people have the opposite evils to the goods that are objects of emulation; that is why people often feel contempt for the fortunate, when good fortune comes to them without the honored goods. We have now said through what causes the emotions arise and are dissolved, and from what the proofs concerning them are formed. [2.12.1] Let us next go through what kinds of characters people have, in accordance with their emotions, their states of character, their ages, and their fortunes.

35| [2.12.2] By emotions I mean anger, appetite, and the like, about which we have spoken earlier; by states I mean virtues and vices, and these too have been discussed earlier, along with what each sort of person chooses and what sort of actions each is capable of. By ages I mean youth, the prime of life, and old age. By fortune I mean good birth, wealth, positions of power, and their opposites, and generally good fortune and bad fortune. [2.12.3] The young, then, are in character prone to appetite, and are the sort to do whatever they desire. Of the bodily appetites, they are most prone to follow the one concerned with sex, and are unable to control themselves in this. [2.12.4] They are changeable in their desires and quickly tire of them, and they desire strongly but stop quickly (for their wishes are sharp but not great, like the thirst and hunger of the sick). [2.12.5] They are passionate and quick-tempered, and the sort to follow their anger wherever it leads. They are ruled by their spirit, for because of their love of honor they cannot bear to be slighted, but grow indignant if they think they are being wronged. [2.12.6] They love honor, but even more they love victory (for youth desires superiority, and victory is a kind of superiority), and they love both of these more than they love money (they care least of all for money, because they have not yet experienced want, as Pittacus's saying about Amphiaraus has it). [2.12.7] They are not bad-natured but good-natured, because they have not yet witnessed much wickedness, and they are trusting, because they have not yet been deceived many times. [2.12.8] They are hopeful, for just as those who have drunk wine, so the young are heated by nature; and at the same time this is also because they have not yet failed at many things. And they live for the most part by hope, for hope concerns the future while memory concerns the past, and for the young the future is long and the past is short: on the first day of one's life there is nothing to remember, but everything to hope for. And they are easy to deceive for the reason just given, since they hope easily.

36| [2.12.9] They are more courageous, for they are spirited and hopeful, and the one keeps them from fear while the other gives them confidence: for no one who is angry is afraid, and hoping for something good is a source of confidence. [2.12.10] They are prone to shame, for they do not yet conceive of other things as fine, but have been trained only by the law. [2.12.11] They are high-minded, for they have not yet been humbled by life but are inexperienced in what is necessary, and thinking oneself worthy of great things is high-mindedness — and this belongs to one who is hopeful. [2.12.12] And they choose to do fine actions rather than advantageous ones more than they choose the advantageous: for they live more by character than by calculation, and calculation aims at the advantageous while virtue aims at the fine. [2.12.13] They are fond of their friends and fond of their companions more than people of other ages are, because they delight in living together and do not yet judge anything by advantage, and so do not judge their friends by it either. [2.12.14] And in everything they err on the side of excess and intensity, against the maxim of Chilon (for they do everything to excess: they love to excess and hate to excess, and likewise with everything else), and they think they know everything and are positive about it (this is in fact the cause of their excess in everything). [2.12.15] And the wrongs they do, they do out of insolence, not out of malice. And they are prone to pity, because they suppose everyone to be good and better than they are (for they measure their neighbors by their own guilelessness, and so suppose that people suffer undeservedly). [2.12.16] And they are fond of laughter, and so fond of wit as well, for wit is educated insolence. [2.13.1] Such, then, is the character of the young. Older men, and those past their prime, have for the most part characters largely opposite to these: because they have lived many years and have been deceived more often and have erred more often, and because most things turn out badly, they are positive about nothing, and they show less eagerness than they ought about everything.

37| [2.13.2] They suppose things but know nothing, and being of two minds they always add 'perhaps' and 'possibly,' and they say everything this way, nothing firmly. [2.13.3] And they are bad-natured, for bad nature is supposing everything for the worse. Further, they are suspicious because of their distrust, and distrustful because of their experience. [2.13.4] And because of these things they neither love strongly nor hate strongly, but in accordance with the counsel of Bias, they love as if they will one day hate, and hate as if they will one day love. [2.13.5] And they are small-minded because they have been humbled by life, for they desire nothing great or exceptional, but only what serves life. [2.13.6] And they are ungenerous, for property is one of the necessary things, and at the same time, from experience, they know how hard it is to acquire and how easy to lose. [2.13.7] And they are cowardly and apt to be fearful about everything, for they are disposed in the opposite way from the young: they are chilled, while the young are hot, so that old age has paved the way for cowardice, since fear too is a kind of chilling. [2.13.8] And they are fond of life, and most of all on their last day, because desire is for what is absent, and people desire most whatever they lack. [2.13.9] And they are more fond of themselves than they ought to be, for this too is a kind of small-mindedness. And they live for the advantageous rather than for the fine, more than they ought, because they are fond of themselves: for the advantageous is a good relative to oneself, while the fine is good simply. [2.13.10] And they are more shameless than prone to shame, for because they do not care equally about the fine and the advantageous, they think little of how they appear.

38| [2.13.11] And they are prone to despair because of their experience (for most of what happens is bad, since things generally turn out for the worse), and further because of their cowardice. [2.13.12] And they live by memory more than by hope, for of their life what remains is little and what has passed is much, and hope concerns the future while memory concerns what is past: and this is also the reason for their talkativeness, for they go on continually speaking of what has happened, since they take pleasure in recollecting it. [2.13.13] Their fits of anger are sharp but weak, and of their appetites some have left them entirely and others are weak, so that they are neither prone to appetite nor active in accordance with their appetites, but in accordance with gain — which is why people this age appear to be temperate: for their appetites have slackened, and they are enslaved to gain. [2.13.14] And they live more by calculation than by character, for calculation aims at the advantageous while character aims at virtue. And the wrongs they do, they do out of malice, not out of insolence. [2.13.15] Old men too are prone to pity, but not for the same reasons as the young: the young pity out of humanity, the old out of weakness, for they suppose that everything is close to happening to themselves as well, and this, as we said, is what disposes one to pity. That is why they are given to lamenting, and are not witty or fond of laughter, for lamenting is the opposite of loving laughter. [2.13.16] Such, then, are the characters of the young and of the old, so that since everyone accepts speeches spoken in accordance with their own character, and speeches like it, it is not unclear how, by using such speeches, both the speakers themselves and their speeches will appear to be of this sort.

39| [2.14.1] Those in their prime are clearly going to have a character between these two, taking away the excess of each: neither being overconfident (for that is rashness) nor being excessively fearful, but being well disposed toward both, [2.14.2] neither trusting everyone nor distrusting everyone, but judging rather by the truth, and living neither for the fine alone nor for the advantageous alone but for both, and inclining neither to stinginess nor to prodigality but to what fits, [2.14.3] and likewise both toward spirit and toward appetite; and they are moderate along with courage and courageous along with moderation. For in the young and the old these qualities are split apart: the young are courageous and unrestrained, while the older are moderate and cowardly. To put it generally, whatever benefits youth and old age have divided between them, these people in their prime have both, and whatever the young and old carry to excess or deficiency, these have in due measure and fittingly. [2.14.4] The body is in its prime from thirty years to thirty-five, and the soul at around forty-nine. Let this much be said, then, about youth and old age and the prime of life, and what kind of character belongs to each. [2.15.1] Let us speak next about the goods that come from fortune, and by what means they too bring it about that people's characters are of a certain sort. [2.15.2] The character that belongs to noble birth is to be more fond of honor in the one who possesses it: for everyone, once something is available to them, is accustomed to pile up more of the same, and noble birth is the being-held-in-honor of one's ancestors. And a person of noble birth is also disposed to look down even on people equal to their own ancestors, because things at a distance are more impressive and more apt to be boasted about than things close at hand.

40| [2.15.3] Being well-born is a matter of the excellence of one's stock, but being noble is a matter of not departing from that nature; and this generally does not happen with the well-born, but most of them are worthless. For there is a kind of yield in the generations of men just as in what the land produces season by season, and sometimes, if the stock is good, outstanding men arise in it for a certain span of time, and then it falls off again. Well-endowed stocks degenerate into more manic characters, as with the descendants of Alcibiades and of Dionysius the elder, while steady stocks degenerate into dullness and sluggishness, as with the descendants of Cimon, Pericles, and Socrates. [2.16.1] As for the characters that follow from wealth, it is easy for everyone to see them on the surface: the wealthy are insolent and arrogant, being affected in a certain way by their possession of wealth (for they are disposed as if they had all good things; wealth is a kind of measure of the worth of everything else, and so it seems that everything can be bought with it), [2.16.2] and they are given to soft living and to ostentatious display, soft in living because of their manner of upbringing and as a display of their good fortune, and ostentatious and tasteless because everyone is accustomed to spend their time on what they love and admire, and because they think others are emulating the very things they themselves value. And at the same time this happens to them reasonably enough (for there are many who are in need of those who have; hence the saying of Simonides about the wise and the wealthy, addressed to the wife of Hiero, who asked whether it was better to be born rich or wise: he said rich, for he saw the wise, he said, spending their time at the doors of the rich),

41| [2.16.3] and also the belief that they are worthy to rule; for they think they have the things for the sake of which ruling is worthwhile. In sum, the character of the wealthy fool is the character of wealth. [2.16.4] The characters of the newly rich and of those long rich differ in that the newly rich have all their bad qualities in a more pronounced and cruder form (for being newly rich is, as it were, a lack of education in wealth), and the wrongs they do are not the wrongs of villainy but rather some are insolent and some are the wrongs of a lack of self-control, for instance assault and adultery. [2.17.1] Likewise, as regards power too, most of its characteristic traits are fairly evident. For power has some traits in common with wealth and others that are better. [2.17.2] Those with power are more fond of honor and more manly in character than the wealthy, because of their desire for the deeds that their power gives them the license to do, [2.17.3] and they are more serious-minded because they must attend to things, being compelled to keep watch over the affairs connected with their power, [2.17.4] and they are more dignified than heavy, for their rank makes them more dignified, and so they moderate themselves; dignity is a soft and well-mannered form of heaviness. And if they do wrong, they are not petty wrongdoers but wrongdoers on a grand scale. [2.17.5] Good fortune, for its part, has the characteristics that belong in part to the goods already mentioned (for the greatest forms of good fortune tend toward these), and further, good fortune also brings the advantage of good children and of the goods of the body. [2.17.6] So people are more arrogant and less rational because of good fortune, but one very good trait accompanies good fortune: those who have it are god-loving and are disposed in some way toward the divine, trusting in it on account of what has come to them from chance. So much, then, has been said about the characters that go with age and with fortune; for the opposite characters are clear from the opposites of what has been said, for instance the character of the poor man, the unfortunate man, and the powerless man.

42| [2.18.1] Since the use of persuasive speeches is directed at a judgment (for concerning things we already know and have judged there is no further need of speech), this holds whether one is using speech to urge someone toward a course of action or to dissuade him, addressing a single person, as those do who admonish or who try to persuade someone (for the single person is no less a judge; the one who must be persuaded is, so to speak, simply a judge), or whether one speaks to people who are disputing, or in support of a hypothesis, the case is the same (for one must use argument and demolish the opposing views, against which one directs one's speech as though against a disputant), and likewise too in speeches of display (for the speech is constructed as if the spectator were a judge, and in general, in political contests, the only one who is, strictly speaking, a judge is the one who decides the matters at issue; for what is disputed is investigated as to how it stands, and so are the matters people are deliberating about). As for the characters connected with forms of constitution, this has already been discussed earlier in the treatment of deliberative speeches, so that it would now have been settled how, and by what means, speeches are to be made to display character. [2.18.2] Since for each kind of speech the end was different, and for all of them opinions and premises have been gathered from which people draw their proofs both in deliberating and in displaying and in disputing, and further, since the means by which speeches can be made to display character have also been settled, it remains for us to go through the topics common to all kinds of speech. [2.18.3] For it is necessary for everyone alike to make additional use, in their speeches, of arguments about the possible and the impossible, and to try to show, in some cases, that something will be, and in others, that something has been.

43| [2.18.4] Further, the topic of magnitude is common to all kinds of speech: for everyone makes use of diminishing and amplifying, both in deliberating and in praising or blaming and in accusing or defending. [2.18.5] Now that these matters have been settled, let us try to speak generally about enthymemes, if we have anything to say, and about examples, so that by adding what remains we may fulfill the plan set out at the beginning. Of the common topics, amplification is most proper to speeches of display, as has been said, what has happened is most proper to forensic speeches (for the judgment concerns these), and the possible and the future are most proper to deliberative speeches. [2.19.1] Let us speak first, then, about the possible and the impossible. If the opposite of something is possible either to be or to come to be, then the thing itself would also seem to be possible; for instance, if it is possible for a man to become healthy, it is also possible for him to become sick, since the same capacity applies to opposites insofar as they are opposites. And if the like is possible, so too is the like. [2.19.2] And if the more difficult thing is possible, so is the easier. [2.19.3] And if it is possible for something to come to be excellent and fine, [2.19.4] it is possible for it to come to be at all; for it is more difficult for a house to be fine than merely to be a house. [2.19.5] And that whose beginning can come to be, its end can too; for none of the impossible things comes to be, nor begins to come to be, for instance a diagonal commensurable with the side neither would begin to come to be nor does come to be. And that whose end is possible, its beginning is also possible; for everything comes to be from a beginning. [2.19.6] And if what is later in substance or in coming-to-be can come to be, so can what is earlier; for instance, if it is possible for a man to come to be, it is also possible for a child to come to be (for that comes to be first), and if a child, also a man (for that too is a beginning).

44| [2.19.7] And things for which there is by nature either love or desire are possible: for as a rule no one loves or desires what is impossible. [2.19.8] And things for which there are branches of knowledge and crafts — these can both exist and come to be. [2.19.9] And things whose origin of coming-to-be lies with people whom we could compel or persuade: these are people over whom we are stronger, or their masters, or their friends. [2.19.10] And things whose parts are possible, the whole is possible too; and things whose whole is possible, the parts are possible as a rule too: for if a strap and a toe-cap and a lining can be made, then shoes can be made too, and if shoes can be made, then a strap and a toe-cap and a lining can be made too. [2.19.11] And if the whole genus is among the things that can come to be, so is the species, and if the species, so is the genus — for example, if a boat can be built, so can a trireme, and if a trireme, so can a boat. [2.19.12] And if one of two things naturally related to each other is possible, so is the other — for example, if the double is possible, so is the half, and if the half, the double. [2.19.13] And if a thing can come about without craft and preparation, it can come about all the more through craft and diligence — hence the line spoken by Agathon: 'and indeed some things we accomplish by craft, while others come to us by necessity and chance.' [2.19.14] And if a thing is possible for the worse, the weaker, and the more foolish, it is possible all the more for their opposites — just as Isocrates said it would be strange if Euthynus learned it while he himself would be unable to discover it. [2.19.15] As for the impossible, it is clear that it follows from the opposites of what has been said.

45| [2.19.16] Whether something has happened must be examined from the following. [2.19.17] For first, if what is naturally less likely to happen has happened, then what is more likely to happen would have happened too. And if what usually happens later has happened, then what happens earlier has happened as well — for example, if someone has forgotten something, he must at some point have learned it. [2.19.18] And if he was able and willing, he has done it: for everyone, whenever able and willing, acts, since nothing stands in the way. [2.19.19] Further, if he was willing and nothing external prevented him; and if he was able and was angry; and if he was able and desired it — for as a rule people do what they reach for, if they are able: the base do so through lack of self-control, the decent because they desire what is decent. [2.19.20] And if he was about to do it, he did it: for it is likely that one who is about to do something also does it. [2.19.21] And if the things that naturally come before something, or for the sake of something, have happened, then that thing has happened too — for example, if it lightened, it also thundered; and if he attempted it, he did it. And if the things that naturally happen later, or the thing for the sake of which something happens, have happened, then what comes earlier, and what is for the sake of this, has happened too — for example, if it thundered, it also lightened; and if he did it, he attempted it. [2.19.22] Of all these, some hold of necessity, others as a rule. As for a thing's not having happened, it is clear that it follows from the opposites of what has been said. [2.19.23] And concerning what will be, it is clear from the same considerations: for what lies within capacity and within wish will be, and what lies within desire and anger and calculation together with capacity — these will be, whenever there is an impulse to do them or an intention to do them, for as a rule things that are intended happen more than things that are not intended.

46| [2.19.24] And if the things that naturally happen earlier have already happened, then the later thing is likely too — for example, if it is clouded over, it is likely to rain. [2.19.25] And if what is for the sake of this has happened, then this too is likely to have happened — for example, if there is a foundation, a house is likely too. [2.19.26] Concerning the greatness and smallness of things, the greater and the lesser, and generally the great and the small, it is clear from what we said before. For in the deliberative speeches we spoke about the magnitude of goods and about the greater and the lesser without qualification, so that, since in each kind of speech the end proposed is a good — for example the advantageous, the fine, or the just — it is clear that the means of amplification for all of them must be taken through those. [2.19.27] To go on seeking, beyond this, about magnitude and superiority in an unqualified way is empty talk: for particular facts about things carry more weight for practical use than universals do. Let this, then, be said concerning the possible and the impossible, and whether something has or has not happened and will or will not be, and further concerning the greatness and smallness of things. [2.20.1] It remains to speak about the proofs common to every kind of speech, since we have spoken about the proofs peculiar to each. The common proofs are two in kind: the example and the enthymeme, for the maxim is part of the enthymeme. [2.20.2] Let us speak first about the example, for the example resembles induction, and induction is a starting point. There are two kinds of example: one kind is to tell of things that have happened before, the other is to make them up oneself. Of this latter, one kind is the comparison, the other fables,

47| [2.20.3] such as the Aesopic and the Libyan fables. Telling of things that have happened is something like this: for example, if someone should say that one must prepare against the King and not let him subdue Egypt — for earlier, Darius did not cross over until he had taken Egypt, and once he had taken it, he crossed; and again Xerxes did not make his attempt until he had taken it, and once he had taken it, he crossed; so that this king too, if he takes it, will cross, and therefore he must not be allowed to. [2.20.4] The comparison is the Socratic kind — for example, if someone should say that officials must not be chosen by lot: it is like choosing athletes by lot, not the ones able to compete but whoever draws the lot, or like choosing by lot which of the sailors is to steer, as though it should be the one who draws the lot rather than the one who knows how. [2.20.5] The fable is, for example, Stesichorus' fable about Phalaris and Aesop's on behalf of the demagogue. When the people of Himera had chosen Phalaris general with absolute power and were about to give him a bodyguard, Stesichorus, after discussing the other points, told them a story: that a horse alone held a meadow, and when a stag came and ruined the pasture, the horse, wishing to punish the stag, asked a man whether he could help him punish it; the man said he could, if the horse took a bit and let him mount with javelins in hand. The horse agreed, and once the man had mounted, instead of getting his revenge, the horse became the man's slave. 'So you too,' he said, 'watch out that in wishing to punish your enemies you do not suffer the same fate as the horse: for you already have the bit, since you have chosen a general with absolute power; and if you give him a bodyguard and let him mount, you will already be slaves to Phalaris.'

48| [2.20.6] And Aesop, speaking in Samos when a demagogue was being tried for his life, said that a fox, crossing a river, was swept into a ravine, and being unable to climb out, suffered badly for a long time, with many dog-ticks fastened on her. A hedgehog, wandering by, saw her and, taking pity, asked whether he should pull off the ticks; but she would not let him. When he asked why, she said: 'These are already full of me and draw little blood; but if you pull them off, others will come, hungry, and drink up the rest of my blood.' 'And you too, men of Samos,' he said, 'this man will no longer harm you — for he is already rich — but if you kill him, others will come, poor men, who will use up what is left by stealing it.' [2.20.7] Fables are suited to popular oratory, and they have this advantage: while it is hard to find similar things that have actually happened, it is easier to make up fables — one must construct them, just as with comparisons, if one is able to see the similarity, which is easier for someone trained in philosophy. [2.20.8] Examples drawn from fables, then, are easier to procure, but those drawn from actual events are more useful for deliberation: for as a rule the things that are going to happen are similar to the things that have happened. [2.20.9] One should use examples, when one lacks enthymemes, as demonstrations — for persuasion comes through them — but when one has enthymemes, use the examples as testimony, adding them after the enthymemes as a supplement. For when placed first, an example resembles induction, and induction is not suited to rhetorical speeches except in a few cases; but when added afterward, examples serve as testimony, and a witness is everywhere persuasive. Hence too, one who places examples first must give many, but one who adds them afterward needs only one, for even a single good witness is useful. We have now said how many kinds of examples there are, and how and when one must use them.

49| [2.21.1] Concerning the use of maxims: once we have said what a maxim is, it will become clear enough what sorts of subjects, on what occasions, and for what kind of speaker it is fitting to use maxims in speeches. [2.21.2] A maxim is a statement, but not about particulars — not, for instance, about what sort of man Iphicrates was — but universal; and yet not about everything whatever, as that the straight is the opposite of the curved, but about matters of action, about things to be chosen or avoided with a view to acting. So since the enthymeme is the syllogism concerned with such matters, maxims are, roughly speaking, the conclusions of enthymemes, or their premises, with the syllogism itself removed — for example: "No man of sound mind should ever have his children taught to be excessively clever" (Eur. Med. 294-295). This by itself is a maxim. But once the cause and the reason why are added, the whole becomes an enthymeme, for example: "For apart from the idleness they already incur, they earn ill-will and envy from the citizens" (Eur. Med. 296-297). And so too: "There is no man who is happy in everything" (Eur. fr. 661), and "There is no man who is free" (Eur. Hec. 864) is a maxim, and joined to what follows it becomes an enthymeme: "for he is a slave either to money or to fortune" (Eur. Hec. 865). [2.21.3] If this is what a maxim is, then there must be four kinds of maxim: for it will either come with a supplement or without a supplement. [2.21.4] Now those maxims need a supporting supplement which state something paradoxical or disputed; those which state nothing paradoxical need none. [2.21.5] Of the latter, some need no supplement because they are already known in advance — for example, "For a man, health is the best thing, as it seems to me at least" (for that is how it appears to most people) — while others are evident as soon as they are said, to anyone who looks at them, for example "No lover is one who does not love forever" (Eur. Tro. 1051).

50| [2.21.6] Of those that come with a supplement, some are part of an enthymeme, as "No man of sound mind should ever..." (Eur. Med. 294); others are enthymeme-like without being part of an enthymeme — and these are the ones held in the highest regard. They are the ones in which the reason for what is said is made apparent within the statement itself, for example in "Being mortal, do not nurse an undying wrath" — for to say one ought not nurse it is the maxim, but the addition "being mortal" gives the reason why. Likewise: "The mortal must think mortal thoughts, not immortal ones." [2.21.7] It is clear, then, from what has been said, how many kinds of maxim there are, and which kind suits which subject: for concerning matters disputed or paradoxical, one should not speak without a supplement, but either state the supplement first and then use the maxim as the conclusion (for example, if one were to say: "For my part, then, since one ought neither to be envied nor to be idle, I say children should not be educated") — or state the maxim first and add the supplement afterward. But concerning matters not paradoxical, though not obvious either, the reason why should be added as concisely as possible. [2.21.8] In such cases the Laconic style of terse sayings and riddling remarks is also fitting, for example if someone were to say what Stesichorus said among the Locrians, that they ought not to be insolent, lest the cicadas end up singing from the ground. [2.21.9] It is fitting for maxims to be used by those advanced in age, and about matters in which the speaker has experience, so that for someone not of that age to use maxims is unbecoming, just as telling stories is, and to use them about matters one has no experience of is foolish and uneducated. There is sufficient evidence of this: for it is countrymen who are most given to coining maxims, and who pronounce them most readily.

51| [2.21.10] To state as universal what is not in fact universal is most fitting in expressions of indignant complaint and in amplification of outrage, and in these cases either at the beginning of the point or after it has been demonstrated. [2.21.11] One should also make use of maxims that are well-worn and common, provided they are useful; for because they are common, as though everyone agreed with them, they seem to be correct — for example, in urging men into danger without having first sacrificed: "One omen is best: to fight in defense of one's country" (Hom. Il. 12.243); or, when at a disadvantage: "The war-god is impartial" (Hom. Il. 18.309); or in urging that the children of enemies be destroyed even though they have done no wrong: "Foolish is the man who, having killed the father, leaves the children alive." [2.21.12] Further, some proverbs are also maxims, for example the proverb "An Attic neighbor." [2.21.13] One should also state maxims that run counter to the commonly published sayings — I mean by "commonly published" such things as "Know thyself" and "Nothing in excess" — whenever this is likely either to make one's character appear better, or to be stated with more emotional force. It has emotional force, for example, if someone speaking in anger were to say it is false that one must know oneself: "This man, at any rate, if he had known himself, would never have thought himself fit to command." And it shows better character to say that one ought not, as the saying goes, love as though one will someday hate, but rather hate as though one will someday love. [2.21.14] One's wording should make the underlying choice clear as well; failing that, one should add the reason for it — for example, saying it this way: "One ought to love not as they say, but as one who will always love; for the other course belongs to a schemer"; or this way: "I do not like the saying; for the true friend ought to love as one who will always love." And likewise with "nothing in excess": "For the wicked, at least, ought to be hated in excess."

52| [2.21.15] Maxims give great help to speeches for one reason owing to the vulgarity of the audience: for people are delighted when a speaker, in stating something universal, hits upon opinions which they themselves already hold about particular cases. What I mean will be clear from the following, and at the same time it will show how one should hunt out such maxims. A maxim, as has been said, is a universal statement, and people are delighted when a universal statement is made that matches an opinion they already happen to hold about a particular case — for example, if a man happens to have bad neighbors or bad children, he will welcome anyone who says that nothing is more troublesome than a neighbor, or that nothing is more foolish than having children. One must therefore aim at guessing what opinions the audience already happens to hold in advance, and then state the corresponding universal about them. [2.21.16] This, then, is one use maxim-speaking has, and there is another, better one: it lends a moral character to speeches. Speeches have moral character wherever the underlying choice is made plain; and maxims all do this, because the one stating a maxim declares a universal about matters of choice, so that, if the maxims are sound, they also make the speaker appear to be of sound character. Let this suffice, then, concerning the maxim: what it is, how many kinds of it there are, how it should be used, and what benefit it provides.

53| [2.22.1] Concerning enthymemes, let us now speak generally about how one should search for them, and after that about the topics from which they are drawn; for each of these is a different kind of inquiry. [2.22.2] That the enthymeme is a syllogism has been said before, and in what way it is a syllogism, and how it differs from the syllogisms of dialectic. [2.22.3] For one must not draw the conclusion by taking premises from too far back, nor by taking in everything: the former makes the argument unclear because of its length, the latter is mere garrulousness, because it states what is obvious. This is in fact the very reason why the uneducated are more persuasive than the educated before crowds, as the poets say the uneducated speak more musically before a crowd: for the educated speak in terms that are common and universal, while the uneducated speak from what they themselves know, and from what is near at hand; so one must not draw conclusions from everything that seems to be the case, but from a defined set of premises — for example, those held by the judges, or by people whose opinion they accept — and this because it thereby appears evident to all, or to most. And one should draw conclusions not only from what is necessarily so, but also from what holds for the most part.

54| [2.22.4] First, then, we must grasp that about whatever one has to speak and reason, whether by a political syllogism or by any other kind, one must have the facts that hold true of it, either all of them or some of them; for if you have nothing, you have nothing to draw a conclusion from. [2.22.5] I mean, for example, how could we advise the Athenians whether to go to war or not, without knowing what their power is, whether it is naval or infantry or both, and how great this is, and what their revenues are or who are their friends and enemies, and further what wars they have fought and how, and other such things? [2.22.6] Or how could we praise them, if we did not have the sea-battle at Salamis or the battle at Marathon or the deeds done by the sons of Heracles or some other such thing? For it is from the facts that hold true, or seem to hold true, that are fine that everyone praises. [2.22.7] And likewise people blame from the opposite facts, looking at what such fact holds true of the objects, or seems to hold true, of them — for instance that they enslaved the Greeks, and that they reduced to slavery those who had fought as allies against the barbarian and had distinguished themselves, the Aeginetans and the Potidaeans, and all the other such cases, and whatever other such fault holds true of them. In the same way both accusers and defenders, looking to the facts that hold true, accuse and defend. [2.22.8] And it makes no difference whether the case is about Athenians or Spartans, a man or a god — the same thing is to be done: for even in advising Achilles, and praising or blaming him, and accusing or defending him, one must take the facts that hold true or seem to hold true, so that we may speak from these, praising or blaming if anything fine or shameful holds true, accusing or defending if anything just or unjust, advising if anything advantageous or harmful.

55| [2.22.9] Likewise too concerning any matter whatever, for instance about justice, whether it is good or not good, one argues from the facts that hold true of justice and of the good. [2.22.10] So then, since everyone plainly demonstrates in this way, whether they reason more precisely or more loosely (for they do not take their premises from everything, but from what holds true about each particular subject), and since it is also clear through argument that it is impossible to show it otherwise, it is evident that it is necessary, just as in the Topics, first to have selected, for each subject, the facts that are possible and most opportune, [2.22.11] and concerning matters that arise on the spur of the moment to inquire in the same way, looking not to what is indefinite but to the facts that hold true concerning the subject of the speech, and marking off as many as possible and as close as possible to the matter at hand; for the more of the facts that hold true one has, the easier it is to demonstrate, and the closer they are, the more proper to the case and the less common they are. [2.22.12] I call common, for example, praising Achilles because he is a man, and because he is one of the demigods, and because he campaigned against Troy; for these hold true of many others too, so that such a person praises Achilles no more than he praises Diomedes. Proper facts are those that belong to no one else but Achilles, for instance that he killed Hector, the best of the Trojans, and Cycnus, who, being invulnerable, prevented everyone from disembarking, and that he campaigned though youngest and not under oath, and all the other such facts. [2.22.13] This, then, is one method of selection, the first, the topical one; let us now state the elements of enthymemes — I call element and topic of an enthymeme the same thing. But first let us speak about what it is necessary to speak of first.

56| [2.22.14] There are two species of enthymemes: some are demonstrative, showing that something is or is not the case, others are refutative, and they differ just as, in dialectic, refutation and syllogism differ. [2.22.15] The demonstrative enthymeme is the one that draws a conclusion from things agreed upon, the refutative one is the one that draws together things not agreed upon. [2.22.16] Now for practical purposes, concerning each of the useful and necessary species, we more or less already have the topics; for the premises about each subject have been selected, so that the topics from which we must bring forward enthymemes about the good or the bad, or the fine or the shameful, or the just or the unjust, and likewise about characters and emotions and states, have already been taken up by us beforehand. [2.22.17] But let us now, in another way, take up a general account concerning all of them together, and let us speak, noting in passing the refutative and the demonstrative enthymemes, and those that are apparent enthymemes but are not really enthymemes, since they are not really syllogisms either. And once these have been made clear, let us go on to distinguish, concerning solutions and objections, from where one must bring these to bear against enthymemes. [2.23.1] One topic of the demonstrative kind is from opposites: for one must consider whether the opposite holds true of the opposite, refuting if it does not hold true, establishing if it does hold true — for instance, that being temperate is good, since being unrestrained is harmful. Or as in the Messeniac speech: for if war is the cause of the present evils, one must set things right by means of peace. For if it is not just that anger should fall upon those who have done wrong involuntarily, nor should anyone who has been compelled to do someone a good turn be owed gratitude in return for it; but if it is possible among mortals to speak persuasive falsehoods, you must also believe the opposite, that many things unbelievable turn out true for mortals. (Euripides, fragment 396)

57| [2.23.2] Another topic is from similar inflections: for what holds true, or does not hold true, must hold true similarly — for instance, that not everything just is good; for then dying justly would also be good, but as it is, dying justly is not something to be chosen. [2.23.3] Another is from things relative to one another: for if it holds true of the one that he acted finely or justly, it holds true of the other that he was finely or justly treated, and if it holds true that he ordered it, it holds true that he did it — as the tax-farmer Diomedon said about the taxes, that if selling is not shameful for you, neither is buying shameful for us. And if it holds true of the one who was treated that he was treated finely or justly, it also holds true of the one who did it. But it is possible to be misled by this: for if someone suffered something justly, he has indeed suffered it justly, but perhaps not at your hands; so one must consider separately whether the one who suffered deserved to suffer it and whether the one who did it deserved to do it, and then use whichever application is fitting; for sometimes this sort of thing pulls apart, and nothing prevents it, as in the Alcmaeon of Theodectes: 'Did no mortal detest your mother?' And he, answering, says: 'But one must divide the matter and examine it separately.' And when Alphesiboea asks how, he replies, taking up the point: 'They judged that she should die, but not that I should kill her.' And so too the trial concerning Demosthenes and those who killed Nicanor:

58| for since they were judged to have killed justly, it was thought that he died justly. And concerning the man who died at Thebes, about whom the order is given to judge whether he deserved to die, on the ground that it is not unjust to kill someone who died justly. [2.23.4] Another topic is from the more and the less — for instance, if not even the gods know everything, hardly would men; for this amounts to saying that if something does not hold true of that of which it would more likely hold true, then clearly it does not hold true of that of which it would hold true less. And the point that a man strikes his neighbors, seeing that he strikes even his father is from the principle that if the less likely thing holds true, the more likely thing also holds true; for men strike their fathers less than they strike their neighbors — either put it this way, or say that if something does not hold true of that of which it more likely holds true, or holds true of that of which it less likely holds true, whichever one needs to show, whether that it holds true or that it does not.

59| [2.23.5] Further, if neither more nor less applies — hence the saying: "your father is pitiable, for he lost his children; but did not Oeneus lose the famous offspring of Greece?" And that if Theseus did no wrong, neither did Alexander; and if the sons of Tyndareus did no wrong, neither did Alexander; and if Hector killed Patroclus, Alexander killed Achilles. And if other craftsmen are not base for their errors, neither are the philosophers. And if generals are not base because they are often put to death, neither are the sophists. And that if the private citizen must look after your reputation, you must look after that of the Greeks. [2.23.6] Another topic is from examining the time — as Iphicrates did in his speech against Harmodius, that if, before he had done the deed, he had asked to be granted a statue in case he should do it, you would have granted it; will you then not grant it now that he has done it? So do not, while promising when the deed lies in the future, take the promise back once it has happened. And again, against the proposal that the Thebans let Philip pass through into Attica: that if, before he had helped the Phocians, he had asked leave to pass, they would have promised it; it is absurd, then, if because he already gave up his advantage and trusted them, they will not let him pass. [2.23.7] Another is from what has been said against a man himself, turned back on the one who said it — as in the Teucer. Different from this is the way Iphicrates used it against Aristophon: he asked him whether he would betray the fleet for money, and when Aristophon said no, Iphicrates said, "then if you, being Aristophon, would not have betrayed it, would I, being Iphicrates?" But it must first be established that the other man is the more likely of the two to have done wrong; otherwise the move looks ridiculous — as if, in accusing Aristides, someone made this same point in order to discredit the accuser, since the accuser in general wants to appear better than the defendant; this assumption, then, must be exposed as false. And in general it is absurd when a man censures in others what he himself does or would do, or urges others to do what he himself neither does nor would do.

60| [2.23.8] Another is from definition — for instance: what is the divine sign? Is it a god, or the work of a god? Yet whoever thinks it is the work of a god must necessarily think that gods exist. And as Iphicrates argued, that the best man is the most nobly born: for neither Harmodius nor Aristogeiton had any nobility before they did something noble. And that he himself is more akin to them: "at any rate my deeds are more akin to those of Harmodius and Aristogeiton than yours are." And as in the Alexander, that everyone would agree that undisciplined men do not want the enjoyment of one body only. And the reason Socrates gave for refusing to go visit Archelaus: he said it was an outrage to be unable to requite good treatment as well as bad. For all these people, having defined the thing and grasped what it is, reason syllogistically about the matter under discussion. [2.23.9] Another is from the number of senses a word has — as in the Topics, concerning "correctly." [2.23.10] Another is from division — for instance, if all people do wrong for one of three reasons (for it is for this reason, or this, or this), and two of the reasons are impossible in this case, and the wrongdoers themselves do not even claim the third. [2.23.11] Another is from induction — as from the speech For the Woman of Peparethus, that concerning their children women everywhere discern the truth.

61| For in Athens, when Mantias the orator was disputing with his son, his mother declared the truth of the matter; and in Thebes, when Ismenias and Stilbon were disputing, Dodonis testified that the boy was Ismenias's son, and for this reason they held Thettaliscus to be Ismenias's son. And again from the Law of Theodectes: if we do not hand over our own horses to men who have looked after other people's horses badly, nor our own ships to men who have wrecked other people's ships, then — if the principle holds equally in every case — men who have guarded what belongs to others badly should not be entrusted with the safety of what belongs to us. And as Alcidamas argued, that everyone honors the wise: at any rate the Parians have honored Archilochus, slanderous though he was; and the Chians have honored Homer, though he was not their citizen; and the Mytilenaeans have honored Sappho, though she was a woman; and the Spartans made Chilon one of the elders, although they are the least devoted to learning of anyone; and the people of Italy honored Pythagoras; and the people of Lampsacus buried Anaxagoras, a foreigner, and honor him still even now; and the Athenians, by using the laws of Solon, prospered, and the Spartans by using those of Lycurgus; and at Thebes, as soon as the leading men became philosophers, the city prospered.

62| [2.23.12] Another is from a judgment made about the same thing, or something similar, or its opposite — best of all if the judgment is everyone's and always given, but failing that, at least most people's, whether the wise or everyone or most, or the good; or if the ones judging now are themselves such judges, or those the current judges accept, or those against whom it is not possible to render a contrary judgment, such as those in authority, or those against whom it is not honorable to render a contrary judgment, such as gods, a father, or teachers — as Autocles said against Mixidemides: that if it was proper for the August Goddesses to submit to trial on the Areopagus, it was not proper for Mixidemides to refuse. Or as Sappho said, that dying is an evil: for the gods have judged so — since otherwise they themselves would die. Or as Aristippus said to Plato, when Plato had spoken rather too dogmatically, as Aristippus thought: "well, our companion" — meaning Socrates — "never spoke like that." And Hegesipolis at Delphi asked the god — having already consulted at Olympia — whether his own opinion agreed with his father's, on the ground that it would be shameful to say the opposite. And concerning Helen, as Isocrates wrote, that she was virtuous, since Theseus judged her so; and concerning Alexander, that the goddesses' preference speaks in his favor; and concerning Evagoras, that he was virtuous, as Isocrates says —

63| "at any rate Conon, when he met with misfortune, passed over all the others and went to Evagoras." [2.23.13] Another is from the parts — as in the Topics: what kind of motion is the soul? For it must be this kind or that. An example is from the Socrates of Theodectes: "against what sacred place has he committed impiety? Which of the gods the city recognizes has he failed to honor?" [2.23.14] Another, since in most cases something good and something bad follow from the same thing, argues from the consequence, to urge a course or dissuade from it, to accuse or defend, to praise or blame — for instance, being envied follows from being educated, and that is bad, while being wise is good; "therefore one should not be educated, since one should not be envied"; or on the other side, "one should be educated, since one should be wise." This topic is the whole of the Art of Callippus, with the addition of "the possible" and the rest as has been said.

64| [2.23.15] Another applies whenever, concerning two opposed courses, one must either urge or dissuade in both directions, using the method just described on both. It differs from that one in this: there, the things set against each other are chosen at random, but here they are genuine opposites — for instance, a priestess would not let her son speak in the assembly: "for if," she said, "you say what is just, people will hate you, and if you say what is unjust, the gods will." But one should speak in the assembly: for if you say what is just, the gods will love you, and if what is unjust, people will. This is the same as the saying "to buy the marsh along with the salt"; and this is what "twisting" is — whenever, of two opposites, a good and a bad follow from each one, the goods being opposite to each other and the bads opposite to each other. [2.23.16] Another, since people do not praise the same things openly as they do in private, but openly they praise justice and nobility above all, while privately they want rather what is advantageous, is to try to infer the one from the other: for of the topics used to establish paradoxical claims, this one is the most authoritative. [2.23.17] Another is from the fact that things happen in the same proportion — as when Iphicrates, whose son was younger than the required age but tall, was pressed to make him perform public services, and said that if they count tall boys as men, they will have to vote that short men are boys. And Theodectes in the Law: "you make citizens of mercenaries such as Strabax and Charidemus, because of their good service —

65| will you then not make exiles of those among the mercenaries who have committed irreparable wrongs?" [2.23.18] Another is from the fact that if the result is the same, then the things that produce it are the same too — as Xenophanes said, that those who say the gods were born are equally impious as those who say the gods die: for either way it follows that at some time the gods do not exist. And in general, one should take what follows from each thing as always the same: "you are about to judge not about Isocrates, but about a whole pursuit — whether one should practice philosophy." And that to give earth and water is to become a slave, and that to share in the common peace is to do what one is commanded. One must adopt whichever of these serves one's purpose.

66| [2.23.19] Another topic: from the fact that people do not always choose the same thing earlier and later, but the reverse — for instance the enthymeme: "When we were in exile we fought so that we might return, but now that we have returned we shall go into exile so as not to fight." For at one time they chose to remain rather than fight, and at another time chose not to fight rather than remain. [2.23.20] Another: to say that whatever a thing would be for the sake of, or would have come to be for the sake of, is in fact for that reason, or came to be for that reason — for instance, if someone would give a thing to another in order to cause him pain by taking it away again. Hence too the saying: "To many the god does not give great goods out of goodwill, but so that they may meet with more conspicuous disasters." And the passage from the Meleager of Antiphon: "not that they might kill the beast, but that they might become witnesses of Meleager's valor before Greece" (Antiphon fr. 2). And the passage from the Ajax of Theodectes, that Diomedes chose Odysseus not to honor him, but so that the one who followed him should be the lesser man — for it is possible that he did it for this reason. [2.23.21] Another, common both to disputants and to political advisers: to examine the things that urge toward and away from a course of action, and the things for the sake of which people both act and avoid acting — for these are the things that, if present, one ought to act on, and if absent, ought not to act on: for instance, whether a thing is possible and easy and beneficial either to oneself or to friends, or harmful to enemies, and even if it carries a penalty, whether the penalty is less than the gain. People are urged on from these considerations and dissuaded from their opposites. And from these same considerations people both accuse and defend themselves: from the dissuading considerations they defend, from the urging ones they accuse. This topic is the whole art of both Pamphilus and Callippus.

67| [2.23.22] Another: from things that seem to have happened but are hard to believe, is to argue that they would not have seemed so unless they were, or were close to being, true — and to argue that they are all the more likely to be true for this very reason: for people suppose either what is the case or what is likely; if then a thing is hard to believe and not likely, it would nonetheless be true, since it is certainly not because it is likely and persuasive that it seems so. For instance, Androcles of Pitthus, accusing the law, when the audience made an uproar at what he said, remarked: "The laws need a law to set them right, for fish too need salt" — though it is neither likely nor persuasive that creatures raised in brine should need salt — "and olive pulp needs oil" — though it is hard to believe that the very substance from which oil is made should itself need oil. [2.23.23] Another, refutative: to examine inconsistencies — whether there is some inconsistency in respect of places, times, actions, and statements — applied separately to the opponent, for instance: "he says he loves you, yet he conspired with the Thirty"; applied separately to oneself, for instance: "he says I am fond of lawsuits, yet he cannot show that I have ever had a single case tried"; and applied separately both to oneself and to the opponent: "he has never lent anyone anything, while I have ransomed many of you." [2.23.24] Another, for people or things that have already been maligned, or seem to be, is to state the reason for the paradox; for there is some reason why it appears so. For instance, a woman who had substituted her own son for another's, because she embraced him, was thought to be having an affair with the young man; but when the reason was stated, the slander was dissolved. And, for example, in the Ajax of Theodectes, Odysseus tells Ajax why, although he is braver than Ajax, he does not seem to be.

68| [2.23.25] Another, from the cause: if the cause is present, one is to argue that the effect is; and if the cause is not present, that the effect is not — for the cause and that of which it is the cause go together, and without a cause nothing exists. For instance, Leodamas, defending himself when Thrasybulus accused him of having had his name inscribed on a pillar on the Acropolis but of having had it struck out under the Thirty, said this was impossible: for the Thirty would have trusted him more had his hostility to the democracy stood on record. [2.23.26] Another: to examine, of the things a person advises, does, or has done, whether some better course was or is possible; for it is clear that if this is not the case, he has not acted wrongly — since no one deliberately and knowingly chooses what is base. This, however, is false; for often it becomes clear only afterward how it would have been better to act, though beforehand it was unclear. [2.23.27] Another: whenever an action about to be taken is contrary to what has already been done, to examine the two together at once — for instance, Xenophanes, when the people of Elea asked him whether they should sacrifice to Leucothea and lament for her or not, advised them: if they suppose her a god, not to lament her; if a human being, not to sacrifice to her. [2.23.28] Another topic: to accuse or defend on the basis of errors that have been made — for instance, in the Medea of Carcinus, some accuse Medea of having killed her children, on the ground that they are nowhere to be seen (for Medea's mistake was in how she sent the children away), while she defends herself by saying that it is not the children she would have killed but Jason —

69| for this would have been her mistake had she not done it, granted that she did do the other thing. This topic, and this form of enthymeme, make up the whole of the earlier art of Theodorus. [2.23.29] Another: from the name — for instance, as Sophocles says, "clearly of iron, and bearing the name too" (Sophocles fr. 597); and as people are accustomed to speak in praises of the gods; and as Conon called Thrasybulus "rash-in-counsel"; and as Herodicus said to Thrasymachus, "you are always rash-in-battle," and to Polus, "you are always a colt"; and said of Draco the lawgiver that his laws were not those of a human being but of a dragon — for they were harsh; and as Euripides' Hecuba says of Aphrodite: "and rightly does her name begin with folly" (Euripides, Hecuba 990); and as Chaeremon says: "Pentheus, named for the disaster to come" (Chaeremon fr. 4).

70| [2.23.30] Refutative enthymemes are held in higher regard than demonstrative ones, because the refutative enthymeme brings opposites together within a small compass, and things set side by side are more evident to the hearer. Of all syllogisms, both refutative and demonstrative, the ones that draw the most applause are those which, as they begin, the hearers foresee will not be superficial — for at the same time the hearers are pleased with themselves for having anticipated it — and those which lag just far enough behind that the hearers grasp them the instant they are stated. [2.24.1] Since it is possible for one syllogism to be genuine and another not to be genuine but only to appear so, it necessarily follows that one enthymeme is genuine, while another is not really an enthymeme but only appears to be one, inasmuch as the enthymeme is a kind of syllogism. [2.24.2] The topics of apparent enthymemes are as follows. One is that which depends on diction, and of this one part is — as in dialectical arguments — stating the conclusion at the end in syllogistic form without having actually reasoned it out: "therefore not this and that," "therefore necessarily this and that." In enthymemes, speaking compactly and antithetically gives the appearance of an enthymeme (for such diction is the proper home of an enthymeme), and this sort of effect seems to arise from the figure of the diction. For speaking syllogistically in one's diction it is useful to state the headings of many syllogisms together: "he saved some, avenged others upon their enemies, and freed the Greeks" —

71| for each of these was demonstrated from other premises, but when they are put together it appears that something further comes out of these very statements themselves. Another is that which depends on homonymy — for instance, saying that a mouse is a worthy creature, since from it comes the most honored of all initiation rites (for the Mysteries are the most honored of all rites). Or if someone praising a dog were to include along with it the dog in the heavens, or Pan, because Pindar said: "O blessed one, whom the Olympians call the great goddess's dog, in every shape"; or to argue that since to be no dog at all is the most dishonorable thing, it is clear that the dog is honorable. And saying that Hermes is the most sociable of the gods, since he alone is called "common Hermes." And that speech is the most serious thing of all, because good men are worthy not of money but of speech — for "worthy of speech" is not said in an unqualified sense.

72| [2.24.3] Another topic is to state as combined what is divided, or to state as divided what is combined. For since what is not the same often seems to be the same, one should do whichever of the two is more useful. This is Euthydemus's argument: for instance, knowing that a trireme is in the Piraeus, since one knows each thing separately. And that a man who knows the letters knows the poem too, since the poem is the same as the letters. And since twice as much of a thing is unhealthy, one should not say that a single amount of it is healthy; for it is absurd that two goods should make one evil. Constructed this way the argument is refutative, but constructed the other way it is demonstrative, since one good is not two evils. Still, the whole topic is fallacious. Again, there is Polycrates' remark about Thrasybulus, that he put down thirty tyrants, since he combines them into one. Or the passage in Theodectes' Orestes, which proceeds by division: it is just that whoever kills her husband should die, and that the son should avenge the father; well then, these very things have been done, for combined together they are perhaps no longer just. This kind of case might also come about through omission, since it leaves out by whom the act was done. [2.24.4] Another topic is to establish or overturn a case by intensification. This happens when, without showing that a man did or did not do the deed, one magnifies the matter, for this makes it seem either that he has not done it, when the man under the charge magnifies it, or that he has done it, when the accuser magnifies it. This, then, is not really an enthymeme, for the hearer is led into the false belief that the man did or did not do it, though nothing has actually been shown. [2.24.5] Another topic is from a sign, and this too is unsyllogistic: for instance, if someone should say that lovers are beneficial to cities, since the love of Harmodius and Aristogeiton overthrew the tyrant Hipparchus; or if someone should say that Dionysius is a thief, since he is wicked. This is unsyllogistic, for not every wicked man is a thief, though every thief is wicked.

73| [2.24.6] Another topic proceeds through what is accidental, such as what Polycrates says about the mice, that they helped by gnawing through the bowstrings; or if someone should say that being invited to dinner is the greatest honor, since it was because he was not invited that Achilles grew angry at the Achaeans at Tenedos. But he grew angry as a man dishonored, and it merely happened that this was because he had not been invited. [2.24.7] Another topic is from what follows: as in the speech called Alexander, that he is great-souled, for despising the company of the many he lived by himself on Ida, since great-souled men are of this sort, and so this man too might seem to be great-souled. Or: since a man is a dandy and wanders about by night, he is an adulterer, since men of that sort are like that. Similar too is the argument that in temples beggars both sing and dance, and that exiles are allowed to live wherever they wish, since these things belong to men who seem to be happy, and so those to whom these things belong might seem to be happy; but the difference lies in how, which is why this too falls under the fallacy of omission. [2.24.8] Another topic is treating what is not a cause as a cause, as by a thing's having happened at the same time as, or after, another; for people take what comes after a thing to have happened because of it, and politicians especially do this, as when Demades said that Demosthenes' policy was the cause of all the troubles, since the war came about after it. [2.24.9] Another topic is from the omission of when and how: as in the claim that Alexander justly took Helen, since a choice was given to her by her father. But this was perhaps not so for all time, but only for the first choice, since the father is master of her only up to that point. Or if someone should say that striking free men is an act of outrage: this is not so in every case, but only when the man begins with an unjust use of his hands.

74| [2.24.10] Further, just as in eristic arguments an apparent syllogism arises from treating something as simply true rather than true in a certain respect, as in dialectical arguments the claim that what is not, is, since what is not is indeed not, and that the unknown is knowable, since it is knowable that the unknown is unknown, so too in rhetorical arguments an apparent enthymeme arises from treating something as not simply likely but likely in a certain respect. This is not universal, as Agathon too says: one might perhaps say that this very thing is likely, that many things happen to mortals that are not likely. For what is contrary to the likely does come about, so that what is contrary to the likely is itself likely, and if so, then the unlikely will be likely. But not simply so; rather, just as in eristic arguments the sophistry arises when in what respect, in relation to what, and in what way are not added, so here too it arises from a thing's being likely not simply but likely in a certain respect. [2.24.11] It is from this topic that the art of Corax is put together: for whether or not a man is liable to the charge, he can argue from likelihood either way. Being weak, he denies a charge of assault, since it is not likely he did it; or even if he is liable, being strong, he still denies it, since it is not likely, because it was likely to seem so and he would therefore avoid it. It is the same in other cases too, for a man must be either liable or not liable to the charge; both possibilities, then, appear likely, but one of them really is likely, while the other is not simply so, but likely only in the way described. And this is what making the weaker argument the stronger amounts to. This is also why people rightly resented Protagoras' profession, for it is false, and it is not a true but only an apparent likelihood, and belongs to no craft except rhetoric and eristic.

75| [2.25.1] Concerning enthymemes, then, both real and apparent, an account has been given; it remains, following what has been said, to speak about refutation. One may refute either by counter-syllogizing or by bringing forward an objection. [2.25.2] Now it is clear that counter-syllogizing can be done from these same topics, for syllogisms are drawn from reputable opinions, and many things that seem true are contrary to one another. [2.25.3] Objections are brought, just as in the Topics, in four ways: either from the thing itself, or from what is similar, or from what is contrary, or from things already judged. [2.25.4] By from the thing itself I mean, for instance, if the enthymeme concerned love, arguing that love is a serious matter, the objection can go two ways: either by saying universally that all want is bad, or by saying in part that Caunian love would not be spoken of, if there were not also bad loves. [2.25.5] An objection is brought from the contrary, for instance, if the enthymeme claimed that the good man benefits all his friends, one might object that the bad man too does not harm all of his. [2.25.6] From the similar, for instance, if the enthymeme claimed that those who have suffered ill always hate, one might object that those who have been treated well do not always love.

76| [2.25.7] Judgments from well-known men, for instance: if someone stated the enthymeme that drunkards should be pardoned, since they err in ignorance, the objection is that then Pittacus is not to be praised, for he would not have legislated greater penalties for a man who errs while drunk. [2.25.8] Since enthymemes are said to be drawn from four sources, and these four are the likely, the example, the sign-proof, and the sign, and since some enthymemes are put together out of things that hold, or seem to hold, for the most part, drawn from likelihoods, while others proceed by induction from what is similar, either from one instance or from several, when a man takes the universal and then syllogizes the particulars, and these proceed through example, while others proceed through what is necessary and always so, and these proceed through the sign-proof, while others proceed through what is universal or through what holds in part, whether it is actually so or not, and these proceed through signs, and since the likely is not what always holds but what holds for the most part, it is clear that enthymemes of this kind can always be refuted by bringing an objection,

77| [2.25.9] The refutation is apparent but not always true. For the objector does not refute by showing that something is not probable, but that it is not necessary. [2.25.10] For this reason, because of this fallacy, it is always possible for the defendant to have the advantage over the prosecutor. For since the prosecutor demonstrates his case through probabilities, and refuting that something is not probable is not the same as refuting that it is not necessary, and what holds for the most part always admits an objection (otherwise it would not be probable but always necessary), the judge, if the case is refuted in this way, supposes either that it is not probable or that it is not his to judge, thereby reasoning falsely, as we said (for he ought not to judge only from what is necessary, but also from what is probable — this is what judging by the best opinion means). So it is not enough for him to refute by showing that it is not necessary; he must refute by showing that it is not probable. [2.25.11] This will happen if the objection itself holds for the most part rather than only sometimes. And it is possible for it to be of this kind in two ways, either in respect of time or in respect of the facts, and most authoritative of all if in respect of both; for if the greater number of cases and more often it is so, this is more probable. [2.25.12] Signs, and enthymemes stated by way of a sign, are refuted in the same way even when the facts alleged are true, as was said in the earlier part of this treatise; for it is clear to us from the Analytics that every sign is unsyllogistic. [2.25.13] Against arguments from example the same refutation applies as against arguments from probability. For if we have some one instance that is not so, the case is refuted, on the ground that it is not necessary, even if in the greater number of cases and more often it is otherwise; but if in the greater number of cases and more often it is so, then one must contend either that the present case is not similar, or is not similar in the same way, or at least that it has some point of difference.

78| [2.25.14] But conclusive proofs and enthymemes based on conclusive proof cannot be refuted on the ground of being unsyllogistic (this too is clear to us from the Analytics); what remains is to show that the thing alleged does not hold. And if it is evident both that it does hold and that it is a conclusive proof, then this becomes unrefutable; for the whole thing at once becomes a manifest demonstration. [2.26.1] Amplification and depreciation are not an element of the enthymeme; for I call the same thing an element and a topic — an element, or topic, being that under which many enthymemes fall. Amplification and depreciation are enthymemes directed to showing that something is great or small, just as others show that it is good or bad, or just or unjust, or whatever else. [2.26.2] All these are the very things that syllogisms and enthymemes are about, so that if none of these taken individually is a topic of the enthymeme, neither is amplifying and depreciating. [2.26.3] Nor are refutative enthymemes a distinct species from constructive ones; for it is clear that one refutes either by demonstrating the contrary or by bringing an objection, and one demonstrates the opposite in return — for example, if the other side showed that something happened, this side shows that it did not happen, and if the other side showed that it did not happen, this side shows that it did happen. So this could not be the point of difference between them (for both sides use the same means: they bring enthymemes to show either that something is or that it is not). [2.26.4] The objection is not itself an enthymeme, but, as in the Topics, it is the stating of some opinion from which it will be clear either that the syllogism has not been correctly drawn, or that some false premise has been assumed. [2.26.5] Since there are three things that must be dealt with concerning speech — for examples, maxims, enthymemes, and generally the matters belonging to thought, whence we shall find an abundant supply of them and how we shall refute them — let this much have been said by us; what remains is to go through style and arrangement.

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