CRITI C ISM IN A NT I QUITY

TICISM
IN
ANTIQUITY
D. A. Russell

UNIVE RSI T Y OF CA LIFOR N IA PRESS

BERKELEY AND LOS ANGE L ES
 University of California Press
Berkeley and Los Angeles

© 19B. by D. A. R ussdl

Printed in G reat Britain

Ubrary of CoagrH_ Catalogi.D~ in Public:atioa Data

Ru~lI , D. A. (Donald Andrew)

Criticism in amiquity
Bibliography: p.
Includes index.
1. Classical literature- H istory and criticism.
2. Criticism. I . Title.
PA30 13· R82 801 ' .95'0938
IS BN 0-5 2(}-04466-5
 Contents
••
Preface 'ill
[ Prologue ,
11 Narrative: from the Beginnings. to
Arjstotle
ill Narrative: the Hellenistic Age
from ArislOtle to H orace 31
ill Narrative; the Roman Empire 5"
;L The Poet and his I nspiralion (ig
:Ill The Poet as Teacher &
V II Mimesis 99
V II I R hetoric "A
IX Theories of Style ~
X Classification of Literature ~
Xl Literary History '.'i'l
X II Epilogue «ig
Appendix '2l
Bibliography ""9
In dex "'1
 Preface
I [lAVE tried to <.:oml>inc a personal im p ression orlhe complex
ph enom e no n ofGn::co-Roman ' literary criticism' wilh a meas-
ure of detailed information su fficient to guide the reader
towards further illquiry. I have had in mind the need, of
lit erary Sludcnts who>.., Gree k an d Latin il perhaps vestigial,
though [ am well awarc that the y are fa\:cd wilh special
difficulti!:" in approa(:hing a ~ubj<:<;! which is mainly abo ut
wo rd s. Wh erever poossihle, I have refe rred to the collection of
translations puh1islu~ by Dr M. Wintcrhollom and rn yselfi n
1972 (A"cirnll.iIUQ,)' Crilicism , Oxford Universit y Press) ; an
appendi x 10 the present volume offers a supplem ent to this, in
wh ich I have lri~-d to gath n somt' \('X IS which were nor in the
earli er wllcnion hu t which I haH felt the need to citc in thc
prt"{'nt discussio n.
T his kind of book ncccs)a ril), rC$1-' On tcaching ; and l owe a
great dea l to the undergraduates who ha ve from time to time
pa tientl), li sten ed and produ ced commcnts and ideas. [ sho uld
lik e also to reco rd a special d e bt to Dr D. C. Jnn e!. who ide nt;·
lied and helped me to correct man)' weak nesses and obscurities.

D AR.
 C " A PTER ONE

Prologue

THE surviving literary remains of classical antiquity in cl ude a

g reat deal or comment on literature iL<;clf T heory, scholarl y
interpn:tation and evaluative judgment are all to be found , and
in some ahundance. T here is cvCn a liule literary hiSlOry. The
class ical scholar approacbes this material from hi s study of th e
ancient poets and prose-w riters them selves; the modern literary
critic turns 10 the ancients as precurso rs, in some sense, of hi s
own arl. Bolh have occasion 10 Ix: Ix:wildered, disconcerted,
pe rhaps disappoint ed.
The sc holars of eourse rclOgnisc in the liler"ry Ih ~"()ries of
PlatonislS, Peri p"INks or Stoics minor works of the grea t
ph ilosophical sebools, shaped by their general metaphysical,
logi c.. 1 or moral positions. It is the recorded critical judg ments
Ihat lire puzzling. \\'e find Ihem often inad ~-qu;n" and un s;nis-
factory, if we com pa re them with our own responses to th e
same l"'x1.~. But al Ihe sa me lime we ca nnot help reasoning Ihat
the Greeks and Ro mans must afle r all know beSt, since Ihe
language and the culture wue their own.
As for the modern critic, he to<) is likely 10 he divided in mind.
On the one hand , he knows thallhere would h.. ve been nothing
li ke the a rl he professes without the foundations l.. id by
ArislOde. 'Longinus·. Horare and Ill<' rcs," On Ihe oth .... r. he
senSe$ that it is .. 11 "ery differe nt from what he is used to. There
l!Cems, for exampl e, to be little or no attempt to delimit Ihe
cri tic's field , 10 [",nee it off aga inst his three n",ighhoul1l: th e
scholar, the moral is t and th" teacher of rhetoric. I nde<:d, these
three between them , it may reasonably appear, occ upy the
whole are ...
, Criticism ill Antiquity
Not Ihal il is difficult to assign historical reasons for this
phenomenon.
Greek literature became 'classical' al an early period, be·
c ause the earli es t poetry to be r ecorded, the epic, ..,t" standard
never surpassed, and was never, in practice, rejected as the
core of educatio n. 1I.hny words in H om", were unimdligible,
even to fifth-century speakers; yel everyone ",ad him , many
knew him by hear!. Scholarly interpretation was thusa ne<:essily
from quite early limes.
Again , philosophers and educators habitually attac ked or
defended literature on moral or social grounds, or sought \0
tum i( to good account in their ad"ocacy of virtue. This again
is connected wilh the prestige of the epic.
And, finaliy, by the end of th e fifth century, the prac tical
teaching of rhetoric, the 'art of per.!uasio n', had also become a
dominant feature of education. Th is led to a fae! which strikes
e\"(:ryono: who studies this material, nameiy, that a very great
deal of the detailed interpretation and criticism we possess has
a clearly rhetorical purpose. It aims at drawing out isolable and
imitable features which may be of service to the potential
orator. "Let us consider, says 'Longinus", typically, "whether
there is anything in OUT ohservations . .. useful to puhlic
men."

,
Now the ethical bias of much of our material is something to
whic h the modern reader may faidy easily be<:ume reeoneilL-d.
There are, after all, many contemporary versions or(he moral_
ising sort of criticism, in which literary excellence is judged by
ilS contribu tion to the 'good life"" however that may be con-
cei,·ed. But he may find the d ominant rhetorical element
harder to bear. Yet this is of crucial importance. One essential
rea t ure of it is that the address is always to potential practition-
ers, not me rely !O reader.! Of connoisseurs. This is so not on ly in
a"',,,,;".
, 0. sMb!ift/il1"~ ' 8 m b)' ""Ii/it.is 'public ",~n·. the am llor .. ~ks
10 define hi. audience not a. ]>ublic a. o]>p"'ed 10 pri"ale perwn•. hut ..
ora ' o,", ,,·ho u"" .hei r cloquen« ror prac,ical purl""'<" .... opposed 10
·>o~h; ... · ,..ho m~ .. ly t~ach and uhibit their . kil".
 Prologue 3
overtly rhetorical works like 0" $~blimity, hut in tht: classical
worh On poe,ry a lso. Horace's ATs ptKlico assumes- whether
as fact or as conveniem fiction - that the two young Piso
brothe rs are about to sit down and writ e plays. Aristotle in th e
PlJtlics works o ut th e consequences of his d efinition of traged y in
the form of statemen ts of how one ought 10 manage plot,
charac ter and language. \\'ould-J.e orato.-s w,"re naturally an
import a nt t:ducatio nal market both in the Greek cities and in
Rom e, since political and private sueeelo.\ and even safely could
well depend on skill in public speaking. Wou ld-be poeLI on
th c o ther hand arc relativel y few in a ny age , certainl y fewer than
those whoapprecia le Ihe art without wishing 10 praclise it . It is
therefore natural to suppose that the prC'lc riptive emphasis
whi ch we find in works on pox:try is due 10 the example of
rhe torical tea ching.
T here are in fact good reasons why rheto ric sho uld have
seemed a relevant model. For one thing , poel ry was believed to
h;we preceded prose as a "ehide of instruc tion a nd re .-s nasio n,"
and could dillS be seen 10 have fulfilled man y of the sa me func-
lio ns. Ag ain , the rhetorical analysis of the elemenls of discourse
into invention, arrangement and verbal choke was clearly ap,
propriatc also to poetry. In the fifth CCntury, whe n lea c he~ of
rh elOri~' began to d evelo p th eir craft, the y natu rally mad e use
of the epic poetry which wa s paft of their pupils' Iraditio nal
education. And so 'poetics', as formulated by ;\rlstOlle'$
succClsors- though not , it is importa nt w reme mber, by
Aristotl e himself- turned into a spec ialised branch of rhe tori c.
Poetry \,'as th ought of as an a n aimed at producing certain
elkc," On the audi ence. T rue, th ese were nOI the sam e effects as
the o rator's; they were pleasure a tid wonder, tlOt convictio n or
an emotional stimulus 10 aClion. J Both arll wcre clcarl y
·audie",;c-orieIlH;d'. T Iu;ophrasIUS. in a famou" formula,
gro oped Ihem togedwr for just thi s reason . ' He ",cant (0
' Cf. S(raoo ,-~ .6 (ALC 3<»); PI " . M ••. ~ o6c-f: j;iodor' t :f)'ImJI0I ;M '- 38
(from Varro) ; L.u~i a n 1» ,.,.",i~.dtJ ~ist., jd 46 ; a "d , i" g<:"."t. Norden
A.,itt Kustp •• ", 32 If.
> I t """-I of CO Ul""" rccogni.scd .h". mu.ie. and", lyric J>O"try, might mo.'.
men 10 action : lio race A" t o t-j .
• t'r . 6, Wimmer (I><low. App<ndix p. ""3) , S .... L.. .... u ~"l f.: G . M . A.
Cru"" T APA 113 ( r 9.l~) ' 71\ .
4 Criticism in Anliqui!J
contrast them with philosophy and mathematics, in which, as he
thought. 'the facl$' alone determined the manner of expression.
I n pUlling it like this, he also exprt:ssed in epigrammatic form
something which Greek and R oman poets seem 10 have taken for
granted: namely, that we alway! writ'" for an audience, proem or
future. It would ~ to deny the essential conditions orthe poet's
craft, as antiqu ity saw it, ifonc were to write only for on~lr, nOI
ca ring if th.., work done werc [or ever hidden from the sight of
man.

We shall look later in more detail at the nature of rhetorical

teaching and its effect on the understanding of literature.' But
it is so important and so central a matter that a little more
should perhaps be said at the outset.
Rhetoric bad two large consequences for the development of
criticism. The first is this. An orator always faces a real and
definite situati on. What he asks of his technique is that it
should show him how to deal with it: what to say and how to
say it. A process of 'invention' precedes the process of ex-
pression, and there is thus a sharp distinction b.::tween content
(to legommon ) and verbal form (Iexis). With some hazy and un-
certain exceptions, ancient writers on poetry also adhered
firmly to this distinction. Secondly: we observed that the
rhetor's pupil is assumed to be a potential composer. One con-
sequence of this is that the teacher distances ooth himself and
his pupil from the hearers or readers, conspirtll with the pupil
against them, and so views them from above and perhaps wi th
some disdain. Their moral attitudes, emotional susceptibili ti t::S ,
weaknesses, bad laste and gullibili ty are to be studied and used.
We have to convince and please people whose faults we can see
more clearly than we see our own, and whOSl': characters we
study in ord er to find out where they are most vulnerable. This
disdain of the ordinary audi",nc", is kno wn to Aristotle in the
cont"'x\ not only of rheloric 6 b ut of poetry: il is !h", ' inf"'riorily
• Chpl~r VIII.
• Rkfr.riI: II gi,"o a d~(ail.-d ucoon! of ·cha,,"c' ,,· from Ihis point of ,·in..
 Prologue 5
of the spe<: tato ro' whi ch mak es them prefer ha ppy endings in
traged)', though the principles of the art ma ke it clea r that
these are really sig l15 of inferior workm a nship. '
In sho rt: th e rhetorical critic is concerncG with mean. to a
predetermined end , and that end is th e po: rouasio n or ente r-
tainment of an audien ce whom he thinks of as infe rior in in-
telligence a nd sensibilit y to himself and his pupil .
This may well seem a stran ge basis for adequate critical
theory o r practice. Ye t it isjust this pragmati c bias ofso much
an cie nt criticism that has strength ened a b<:lief which mos t
class ical s.;ho lan- except those who have lain most completely
und er the influ ence of nine teenth-eentury Ro manticism -
have been inclined to hold in some fo rm or other : nam el y, that
Ihis material provides a special insight into th e attitudes and
pres uppo. i.io n~ of lhe creativ e ",ri.c n. of a ntiq 11i t y. \ \'e seem to
glimpse the insid e of the workshop. T here is obvious ly some-
thing in this. The de ta iled ill ustra tiol15 of techniq ue are th ere,
in OUT tex IS, patie ntl y and oft en intellige ntly discussed from th c
rhetOT 's standpoint. Moreover, there i. no d o ubt th a t the
pri nc iples underl ying these discuss ions represe nt a ttitud es {O th e
func tions and cxcellences of litenllure whic h "'cre generally
held , ind eed ta ke n fur grant ed , and which il is necessary for
students of dass ical literuture to underotand . No r is Ihere any
dou bl thai , a t any rate in th e Helle ni stic and Ro man periods,
a rh eturi ca l training of th e kind implied by the works of
Q uill Iil ian , Dio n ~i u s or ' Long in us', was pa rt o f the e~ pe ri ence
of everyone who u ied to wri te ; an d that in cl ud es Virgil, as well
as th e count less ado lescen ts o f mod es t a bi lit y who 'gave ad vice
to Sulla' in a sua,aria,· o r exho rt ed the Three Hundred (0 di e
bravel y a t Th cnno pylac.
But it is important not to exaggera te. I t scems reasonable to
ask wh ethe r the view of li te ra ture con veyed by ' Longinus',
Quin tilian o r H ermoge nes, with its del icate classifica tions of
sty le and ana lyses or struc ture a nd ex pression, alfords a n ad-
equate descriptio n of wha t one o bserves u neself. It is, after all ,
still possi ble to read G reek a nd La tin litera tu re with sensit iv ity,
' PIN'i" ' H 3' - Sr. IIOW J. F. ~ t "I",. CQ '>9 1'!!791 n If.
o j m-,nal " ,6. On , •• ,..iM- fie'i ' i",,, d~tib<ora. i<'. 'I"'o:<h", rompos«l ,,,
prac' k. - .... lIon1l« . op. ri. " j" n. '91..1",.. .
6 Criticism in Antiquity
iro ne takes the troubl e 10 learn the languages as well as one can .
The limit ations imposed by the remoteness and by the lack of
spea kers of th e two languages are not so great that a mod",rn
reader need fed il impossible to form a valid impressio n o f h is
o wn. For my own pa rI, I am fairly ce rtain thaI this ancient
rhetorical 'criticism', though undoubtedly useful in sugges ting
princi p les ofjudgment and helping to elucidate authors' inten -
ti ons, is fundamentally not equal to th e tas k of appraising
classicallitcra ture. IfprCSlwlo say why, I should be obl iged
to fall hack on an impressionistic way of prese nting the prob-
lem, and should base myself on Ihe following consideration.
Th e most distinctive feature in the pagan lilcralun: of Crcttc
and Rom" . ta ken a. it whole, se" ms 10 rn ~ to k !IOm~lhing only
rarely hinted a t in anci~nI criti ca l t~xts: a cn:a tiv~ t~nsion be-
tw~en directness of thought and vis ion on the one hand , and
sophisticated imagery and verbal formality on the other. This
is something to be see n not on ly in Theocritus or Virgil, hut in
HOIll~T, Aesch ylus and Pindar too. Some such eon fii ct, I m igh t
say. elevates tragedy and epic a bove th e level of th e sensational
and the viole nt , and gives piquancy and elegance to satire and
comedy. It is thi s tension that fashio ns for us a spe1:iai world,
in which emotion, amusement and understanding an: com-
bined in a way d iSli nct from th e ways in which such co mb ina -
tions arc effected in o th er lit eratures, even those most closely
modelled on th e an tique. This crea tive conflict, howeve r, can-
not be take n into account if we accept the commo n ancient
doctrine that big words suit b ig things and litt le words little
things, wilh the corollary tha t Ihere are two mut uall y exclusive
Iypa of literature, the serio us or idealistic and Ih e realistic o r
comic. No do ubt th e resonance. and ironies Ihat I ch eri sh
CQuld not arise unless the two elemen ts of th e co nflict were ap-
prehe nded se paralely; bu t to erect Ihis sepa rat e apprehens ion
into a principle of the classificat io n of literature is 10 surrend er
judgm ent to insensitive dogma. Yet this o ften h appcn~ . It i~
typica l o f the c rit ical consensus of ant iq u ity when Longinus
complains of impropriety in an evid entl y piquant a nd highly
coloured passage of Theopo mpus' hislory.o It is typica l too
when S<-rvius tdls us that the style of Am.iel I V is 'comic'. be-
• 0. ,kb/i,..i<y H-
 Prologue 7
cause the subject is love, no normal epic theme. 'o And it is an
excep tiona l recognition of Ont: form of the teminn I have tried
to deline when Demelri us commends Xenophun fur wri ting
lightly of a grim and fearsome cha racter, and sagely co mm ents
on the effect achieved by saying that 'one may be cooled by
wa rmth and wa rmed by cold'."
It is perha ps worth remembering, howe\"er, Ih al the /irs t
ev id ence we have lor th is 'consensus dichotomy' of types of
writing i. in a CUnlext wh i.:h does nOt encourage US to la ke it
too serious ly: the de bate between Euripides and Aeschy lus in
Aristophancs' Frogs. 11 is reasonable to believe that sensitive
readers in antiquity, had th ey chosen to make their responses
a rticulate, would have secmed wiser and more soph istica ted
than thei r teac hers and theorists.

Wh en we speak of a 'nitic' , we du of cuurse use a Greek word.

The krili/;.QS i$ the man who is capable o r judging (kr'ntin ) .
What sorts of 'judgment' of literature were enl'isaged by the
Gr~ ks themselves?
Some H ellenistic litera ry scholars actually used the name.
According to Crates of "",allus, " a h i/ito! was a superior
grammali/;'os, who nceded to have a comple te grasp of a ll know_
ledge concerned wilh logos, no t merely lexicography an d metre.
He was concerned primarily with the interpretation a nd
aut hentic it y of older books, especially the Home ri c epics. H is
main role was thus to decide historical questions, not 10 ma ke
val ue-j udgmenlS; but he might well lise interna l c rileria of
style a nd cont Cnt, or e\"en mural considerations, in Ih ~ cOUl~e
of his work. In Horace," howeve r, we lind lfilid classing
En nius as a 'second H omer', a nd thi. seems to he a judgment un
his importance an d \laltle. The grouping, o rdering and labelling
L. S« App<ndix. p. ""3.
" Dcmclciu. O~ ' Vi, '3.1 (ALC '98), on Xcn . C.l'Op"'di4 • .•• . L $.
"&x. fOm p. Adr. m4lh. L. 79: ..,~. in g~n",at. R. Pfeiffec. ili" 0'..1 0j CI4JJual
StWa"hip i, 1:'7 If. •·r"smcnll or Cratcs arc <"Ul\ected by H . J. Mene,
P.rdu,,,,·,, 195~ .
OJ E/>iJllts ' .1.,50 (AU.: p. 'n).
8 CritidHIl ill Allliqui!J
of authors read in school was indeed a CommOn activity of the
grammarian or krilikos, and ~metimes of the teacher of
rhelOric also.!· It falb short of anything we could call criticism
or reasoned judgment.
A more hopeful approach to the question is suggnled by a
n:m ark of'Longinus':

Th t question we must put 10 OUI"$(h"es for diS(ussion is how \0 avoid

th t fauhs which are 50 closely oound up with sublimity. The answer,
my friend, is Ihis: by first of all achieving a genuine understanding
and appreciation oftrue sublimity. Til;' is difficuh : li terary judgment
(logOn k,;,iJ ) come< only .... th e final product (1.1tI4/4;on .pigtnnim4) of
long experience."

This prompts two reflections. (i) The function of hilis in this

passag'" is to distinguish the good quality, 'sublimit y', from
errors which su~rficiall y resemble it and arc incurred in the
search for it. Now this is an idca which is also familiar in ethics.
Ari.totl,,', theory of virtue envioag« .imi!ar risks of error.
Demetrius actually makes the parallel between morals ane
sty les explicit:

Just as certain bad qu al ities are adjacent to certain good ones-~

audacity to confidence, or shame to modesty- so, adjacent to our
types ofstyk, there are cenain mistaken types . .. "

But 'Longinus' goes funher than Demetrius. His d esired quality

of sublimity is not simply analogous to the mora! quality of a
noble mind, it is an expression of this, and thejudgmen\ to be
made aoom it rests therefore on a moral as well as an aest hetic
sensibility. (ii ) The power to make such a decision comes not
from the application of rules hut as a kind of bonus (tpigmnimll )
oflong ex~rience. Thi. i. a common point. It was gen"rally
und"rstood in antiquity that rul", (prMClpla, para~g,lmala) had
their limitations. The notion of an irrational cri terion (alogos
niMh/sis, 'non-rational sensibility' ) is common enough in Greek
"Moot notably in Ireati!le:l on 'imitation': 5tt np. Quintilian 10_' , and
1)"10",, Chapter VI [ 9.
" 6. '-
,. O. JIJI. "4 (ALe 194)-
 Prologue 9
criticism of literature and the art5. Dion ysius" seems to have
believed that the: 'pleasantness' or 'unpleasantn ess' of a picre
of lit e:ralllre is judged by such irrationa l sensibilit y, but its
' bea ut y' and 'excellence' as a speci men of the craft by rat ion a l
princ ipl e<. 'Longinus' on ce again goes furth er. For him. the
essential facult y ofjudg melll is bo th mo ra l, as we ha ve seen, a nd
at th e samc lim e dcpendent On cxpcrience rather Ihan On
precept. He thus re presellis a point of v iew distinct fro m that
ofDionysius. Pres umabl y it differ; a lso from Ihat of hi s nominal
opponent, Caecilius ofCa leacte, who was, it seems, a friend of
Dion ysius. For the co mplaint levelled against Caecilius at th e
beginning of the boo k is p recisely that he struggled to d efine
'sublimity' at inordinate leng th - in other words, to give a
ra lional account of it - wilho ul e xplaini ng how it is to be
achi eved. ' Lo nginus' . we should infer. would disa pprove of a ny
cla im (() t~ach kri$i$, 'jud gment ', by me"n.' of rules. Like mos t
Grcr k critks, he works largely by drawing a lle ntion to fea tu res
in p"ni cular cxampks.
To find a SlalCment of rul e. which purport to mak e possible
a systema tic ev alua tion of a work orJiurature we ha \"(~ to look
elsewhere, and at a lower level of wri ting altoge t ha. T wo sho rt
trea li sc:s, attributed to Dionysi us, and p robabl y da lin g from the
second or third century A. D ., prov id e so mething of wh"t we
walli. Th ese treatises ls d eal os ten.libl y with the 'examination'
(txtlasis ) of declamation a nd with mista kes (plimmt/oumcna)
commonly made in such exe rcises. Now declamations (mdt/a!)
were forensic or d el iberative speec hes wriuen fo r fi ctional or
hi storical occasion£, int cnded to cxcrcise Ih c futun: ora lOr in
th e invention a nd selection or lila te ria! lInd in stylistic ingenuity.
They wue a natural pari of rhetorical educat ion, as il d e.
veloped in Hellenistic tim es. On th e on e ha nd, th ey re nce t th e
desire of stud ents for somelhing less humdrum Ih"n strictly
vocatiOt"'! tea ching ; o n Ihe other, the y show Ihe lend ency of
teachers 10 give th eir instru ction a more liber"l a nd imagin<Hive
" TlrwyJidt" , (,,·il h ,10."" ill IV . K. Pri.ehell. Dmlpi..s . . . '0 . n "q" dt, ".
108) : D. M. Schrak.nld, 'Thoorios of .valualion .. .' (,II.,. /'hil. lAM. I.
93- . °7).
I. hlne" in Apl""ndix. p . • B3 If; '.x l in H . U",n. ,...L. Radc.mach~ •.
1);""7';; ' . O,.,.,<w/a, 359-87 ; mur. d<l~; lcd on.I)'> ;, ;n 1::,*,/;,., H Ol d/' 5
(' 979), 1' 3 ff.
 Criticism in Antiquity
loo k. They maintained their popularity down to the last age of
clasoical antiquity, and indeed throughout the Byzantine
period.l~ Their fictional content and the freedo m of in,·ention
which they demanded ma ke the m a bridge betw~"<!n practical
oratory and imaginative literature. When Quintilian lll recom-
mends the study of the classical comic poet Menander as
valuable to the future orator, he qualifies his praise by adding
that he is perhaps most valuable to the declaimer, because the
declaimer has to adopt varions personalities according to th e
problem he has been set. Character (ilhos ), important in all
oratory, is of special importance in this scholaslic form.
I! is thus natural that Ihe scheme which 'Diony,iu,' pro-
pounds should give pride of place to ilh05. T his is said to be of
two kind s : 'philosophical ilh05', which here means the overall
moral tendency of the spee<:h, and ·rhetoricai lihos', oamely the
appropriateness o f what is said to speaker, audience and sub-
je<:t. Critical judgment has to concern itself with each of these
separately, and then wi,h ,he rdation.hip between them. The
'one great philosophical ilhlls' determines the tone orthe whole ,
and should control other representations of character in the
same way that reason should control temper and desire in our
lives. The analogy here drawn between the unity within the
human m ind {Jmu:/r.el a nd the unity of a spt."<':ch is stri king.
T hough the concept of struclUral unity is common in antiquity,
attempts to clarify and illustrate it are not. This writer is un -
usual. And it is evidently not so much the unity of oratory that
he has in mind as that of the Platonic dialogue (a genre which
he cites) and of comedy. The practice of decla mation has led
al least this one rhetOT 10 ideas which have a wide lite rary
application.
Elho$ is the most significant of the headings under which he
considers the function ofjudgment. T heOlher IhrC(: are thought
(gnonul, art (ttchni) and language (/tris ). The critic is to allk,
first, whether the id eas are consistent, adequate to th e case, and
economical; .econdly, whether they are mgared with the right
" s., •. in ~." ••at. s. f. Bonne<. R",,"u fH<1.",.,i•• ; and. ror ,h. Grttk ,id<.
G. A. K ."n.dy in .ipp,...."'trJ /.0 I1tt.'it,"""
Sof>/riJli" .d. G. W. Bowcrwck
( '9H ), '7A"·
'" to.,·69 (" I.e 390)·
 Prologue
"
embellishments of rhe torical skill ; and finaJl )' ..... he ther the
langu age is clear, pure and elegantl y diversifi ed.
T his pedagogic synthesis reaches no great depth ofill5ighl. It
..... ou ld bc foolish to ma ke much ofil. BUI it does- and in Ihis it
seems 10 be unique in an cient criticism - attem pt to state a
comprehensive se t of rules for c rit ical j udgm ent , uniting bo th
rhelOrical and moral standpoints.
i1s presuppositions, ho ..... eve r, are by no means unique. T hey
are typical of the consensus ach ieved in the imperial period by
classieisi ng critics a nd readers whose primary interest lay in the
old Attic literature and the ways in wh ich it could still be imi_
tated and reproduced. Taken with what we have Sten of
Dion ysius a nd 'Longinus' , it e nables us to filrm some view of
wh at lite rary judgment (krisis logon ) was supposed to entail, a t
any ra te in the f.'lirl y stable cultural conditions of the fi rs t three
centuries of th e Ro man Empire. The hilikoJ in this sense, the
man good a t ma ki ng such judgments. would need a t least three
qualiti C!l. He would have to have a keen sense- a trained
sensi bilit y rather than articulatc prinl:ipk-s- of linguisti<.: and
sty listic fo rm , an aware n= of th e moral aspects of lite ra ture,
and a realisatio n thaI th e writ er is a membe r of a com munit y of
le ttcrs which 'tn~ t c h es back into the past and indudes the great
classics themsel ves. Wo ul d he also need schol ars hi p? Onl y, it
seems, as an aid to mora l and rhetorical discrimination. Plu-
tarch may hel p uS here. It is scho la rly (philologon), he tells 115,21
to und er.lt and th e hard word. in the old po<:t$. \\' hal is a bso.
lutel y essential, ho wever, is something dilfe r~,n! - a n under_
stand ing of 'how the JlO<"ts uM the nam es of the goos a nd of
good and bad, and what they mean by Fortune an d Fatc'. For
Plutarch, the old poet ry is a means of mora l education , and its
stud y can be defended fo r this reason. Scholarly knowledge is
th us ~o ug ht nOllor il5 Own sa k ~ but in SO far as it ~u bscrvo:s th e
moral purpose by preventing misinte rpretatio ns which might
lead to dangerous misconceptio ns about matte,..., of ethics and
religion. A similar a tti tud e prevailed about historical know.
ledge. Wha t is call ed hiSlaria in the Greek of thi s period CO\'ers
nut only histo ry in the modern sense, bu t many kinds of
schola rl y and scient ifi c fa CIS. All this too i$ ancillary - if not to
" .\lc,.li. ~"C (AlL ~~O r.)
 Criticism in Anliqlli!J
moral education, then to rhetoric. A certain knowledge of the
hi-torieal background of Demosthenes' .~ches is clearly
necessary to unde rstand the text and appreciate the rhetorical
techniques. But that knowledge falls far short of a proper
narrative history oflhe period . For all the drort that the ancient
schools put into the slUdy of the classical Orators, no true
historical commentary on their works was ever put together.
The consequen<xs of this for modern understanding offourth-
century Greece have been serious. The Romans perhaps did
rather better: Astonius' commentaries on Cicero go somewhat
deeper than th eir Greek equivalents.

'Longinus' spoke of tri.ris lagon, 'Dionysius' of txt laiis [Pgofl. We

have seen something of wh at this 'judging' or 'ellamining' in-
volved. But what about the object of the process? What is
meant by logo;? Though 'Dionysius' is writing about declama-
tion, we have seen that what he says is not limited 10 that kind
of composition; indeed his doctrine of ;thOl seems actually more
appropriate to dialogue and drama than to speeches. And in
the passage of'Longinus'. the word is an embarrassment 10 the
translator. No one English word suffices: 'words" 'speeches',
'discourse', 'literature', all mislead.
Behind the verba l question lies one of substance. What kinds
of discourse dna ' Longinus' believe to be the appropriate sub-
ject of the trisis which he envisages? H is own practice, and that
of the other 'criti cs', make the range fairly dear. It includes
poetry of all kinds, oratory, history and the ph ilosophical dia-
loguc. Treatises and letters ofa certain formality could safely
be added. Bu t it does $ttm as th ough evidence of conscious art
was required; no one in antiquity ever propounded the view
that every use of language, however ephemeral or cas ual,
oould be subjected to formal or moral examination of this kind.
Yet there is no general term, either in Gr~k or in Latin, for
the whol e body of 'critic-worthy' literature. It is usually de-
scribed by meam of an enumerat ion; 'poets, orators and pJ"()Se,
writcrs' or the like. Ciccro in his Oralo~l uses five categories:
"O.a"" 6, -~. Sa I><Jow, Chap'u X 6.
 Proiogul '3
orator, sophist, philosopher, historian and poe t.
The only thinke r who tried to establish a classification of the
formal uoa of language which was not b"""d merely on the
superficial di fference between verse and prose o r on habitual
descriptions of genm; which aC1UOIlly existm. was Aristotle. In
thi s excursion into literary theory he was unique. Nothing
wrin"'n aft",r him <:quailed Ihe precision and suggestiveness of
Ihe opening chapters of the Pottits, where the scope alld
claMification of IX'Ctry arc con.idcrcd. l l According 10 the view
SCI fort h here. fHJiiliki, which covered in common usage th e
composition of epic, drama, elegy and lyric, belonged to a
ge nus of' mimetic' arts employing speuh, rhythm and harmony
-any or all of them - in the representation ofhuman (Character,
emotion (or 'suffcrin g' )l' and action. It differed from in_
st rumental music OInd dOln cing in being uIIOIhlc to do withou t
speech. But it was not unahle to do without melfe ; Aristotle
reckons as po!iliki the composition of such prose works as
Sac r,,,ic dialogues, because they imiulle people doing SOme-
thing, while at Ihe same tim e exeluding verse written for the
purposes of $(;ientifi~ expos ition, such a s the philosophical
poems of Empedocles. Jt follows th at had Aristotle known any
developed form of the novel, he would have reckoned it as
poii.is. Indeed , in much later times, when Greek novels had
come into being, I:x:come respecta]}l", and finally achieved Ihe
stat us of classics, BV7.antine .<;<; holars used AriSl<lte!ian tf:rmin_
olog)' and ideas to define their dlaracteristia. 1! On Ihe other
hand , if Aristotle had known the very human and emotionally
evocative didactic poetry of Lu cretiuS and Virgil, he could not
co nsisten tly have induded ii, though Ihere would have been
no thing to prevcn t his admiring its language, tech nique and
imaginative use ofmetaphor. 16 So Aristotle' s /JQiiliki remains a
U Sec below. Ch.pl~r X .
:. A di$putw paUag~ ( I H t ~8 ) .
'e<:" I. U('" "" /0<.
" E.ampl<:> or Ilj'umine ,,,,,·d ..er;';(;. ,,, ma y be found In .\\. I'.dlu,·
critiques "n Achill ... Taliu, (A(~IH<.! T.rill>, nl . E. Viloorg, ,W f.) and
Hdiodocu. ( lid"""" A(1h;op"4, nl . A. Colomta, 364 f.J.
,. Ari. totte (fr. i" R"",) did ;n fac t ad"';re ""r ta;n """ms of ~:ml"'dod.,.;
but those mcntior>e<i here are not th~ pl,;losophical ono (which he alluded
to in I'""it. t) but one on the "'ar ",·;th Xerx ... a 'p""",mium' to Ap<>II<>.
and ·traged;..·.
'4 Crilirum in Anliquiv
narrower concept than what we usually mean by 'poetry'; a
jorliori ie is narrower than the 'literature' we are seeking, if by
that we mean the whole proper subject of moral and formal
Cr,Uclsm.
This must of course indude oratory. And this isone thing that
Aristotle strictly ududcd. In his view 'rhetori.;' was a wholly
dist inct art from 'poetic', and Wa5 not ' mimetic' at all. The
orator uses language primarily for penua"ion, and he uses it as
a parI of his real activity in life, not ill play or prete nce. This
diffe rence is fundamental. It was however not felt in early
tim~: in He:siod,21 the Muse.. help the king as well as the poet,
the persuader as well as the channer; and Solon and other
earl y poets appear 10 have used both iambic and elegiac poetry
for the practka[ ends of public policy. But Aristotle n:garded
the difference as vital. PIal(), from a more moralistic standpo int,
had stressed both common featun:s 18 and (man: seriously )
differences. Both arts, in his view, were dangerous: rhetoric,
be<:auSt: ,he deee; v,," people into ac ting on fa!.e informadon
and 'prefers the probable to the true'; poetry, beca use th e prac·
tice of imitation corrupts the mind , and the corruption extends
to real·life activitics. The grounds of objec tion are different ,
because the things the mselvcs are different.
Of course, any 'rhetorical' use of speech can be 'imitated',
but the imitation-a work of fxJiiliki-~ no din:cl
power of persuasion, but only the capacity inhen:nt in all
poetry to induce habits of mind, good or bad, which may sub-
SCC)uently be shown in our own actions. Poetry thus contains
much 'imitation' rhetoric, and this is especially true of Home r
and the dramatists, on the observation of whose practice moot
Greek poetic theory in fact rested. Simil arly, oratory might wdl
involve mimiJis of words and actions which the speaker needs
tl.l describe in order to further his case. Again, an orator may
pretend to doubts or attitudes he doa not really fed; his
studied speech then becomes an 'imitation' of reality.:!9 Yet
these overlaps are superficial. Essentially, Aristotle was surely

n T .....I"'lJ' 80 If.;...,r ,\ 1. L. West 4<1/(1(.

,. C"'tu" ~.,.c If.
,. s..- thr po ....g. from Al.xand.,·, , ..... ,;" 'on figut<'''. Sp<n~d 3." ff.:
,.. ,,,t.,od in App<ndix. p. ,]6.
 Prologue '5
right: rhe toric and poctic~ arc different , even opposed, arts, the
one d ea ling in reality, however ignoble, th e other in illusion,
however splendid.
Yet the mutual influence and inlcrdependence of lhesc lwo
b rancht."S o f lheory, and of oratory and poetry thcmsel\"ts, are
"ery great. It is no t ha rd to see why this shou ld be so.
For One thing, there is th e ovedapofpurpme which we have
already obsen-cd. Both oratory and poetry a im to affect lheir
hearers, Ihough with different goals and in somewha t different
wa ys. Both th erefore need similar psyc hological tec hniqu es and
understanding. Seco ndly, Ihe skills of language a re much th e
""me for both. Aris(O\le's own discu$sion of IHIS ('diction' ) in
the third book of hi. Hllt/oriC'" refers hack to th e Pot/ic$. H~ sees
the differences: poetic vocabu lilry must avoid the lower
registers whi ch are in place in prose. Bill Ihe essential precepts
a re commo n. \Ve have already to uched on, and shall have
occasion to di sc uss later,31 th e com mo n a ncient view that
words are th e ou tward dress of th ought and th at even in
poetry the underlying ' thing silid' Cilll bc distinguished from its
clothing of words and , ifnet.x\ m:, paraphrased in others. This is
certainly part of the reason for th e linh between th e discu ssions
of styJe in rhetoric and in poetics. jI,'lorcover, Aris totle trea ted
drama a.o; the central poetic form, and the construction of a plot
(mulhos, 's tory ') as the poet's fi rs t task. The pl ot, like th" orators
case. needed a doth ing of words- the most appropriate, of
course, and SO whollyde tnmined by the prior choice of content.
T he comic poe t M enander, reproached wi th not having written
his pby for an imminent fest ival, is sa id to have replied that it
was all iinished really - the plot was made, he onl y had to write
the lines. J ' T hi s was to speak both as a good pupil of the
Peripatos, and as a man with a rhetorical mind.
In view of these considerations, it is perhaps not surprising
that th e sharp Platonic and Aristotelian distinction belween
poe try as a 'mimetic ' art and rhetor ic a.o; 'non-mimetic', should
have had comparatively lillie influ ence on later classifica ti ons
and eva lu a tions ofJ ite rature. Critical theory, as o{t"n, did not
have mu ch power over criti ca l prac ti c". In fact , the vcry
.. 1404" If. (ALe 136 fr. ). "Chap"" tX .
" pt utarch . .II... 3478 (ALe 3).
,6 Crificism ill Antiquity
classification which Aristotle regarded as [he most superficial,
that by metre, remained the most u5ua! for all practical
purposes; it is clearly ~en, for example, in the lists of authors
commended by Quintilian as useful n:~ading for the budding
orator.lJ Mor"'o'"cr, the qualities of style in poe try ca me in-
cn:asingly 10 be regarded a$ different o nly in degree from those
evident in prose,,l4 and the elaborate systems of stylistic dis-
criminations which were the pride oflate r rhetoric we re based
On observation of the poets as well as the o rators, and were held
10 apply equally to both. It i. easy to see historical reasons for
this. One is the rise of a Greek dassi cising literature by th e first
ce ntury B.C. , with standards of language and thought based on
the whole corpus of approved olde r writing, poetry as well as
prose. Anothe r factor, closely related 10 this, is the retreat of
rhetoric from public (ife to the classroom, with the consequent
indulgence in fantasy and fun and divorce from the sterner
needs of vocational training. All this tended 10 minimise the
differen""" between the twO arts. I ndeed, metre a part, the
essential difference (for practical purposes) came \0 be thought
to be one ofsubjecl-maller, not of type of activity. Poetry had
greater licence (Jianlia, txousia ) both in language and in fantasy,
whereas oratory had the closer (inks with reality and act ion.
'L.lnginus'JS expres<es this dearly in conn ~ tion with what he
eaJls phanlasia, the imaginative visualisation of a scene or a
mood:
The j:>O(:tical examples ... have a quality of exaggera tion which be.
longs to fable and goes far beyond cr.-dibility. I n a n orator's visualisa -
tion., 011 the other hand, it is the clement of fact and t!"\lth ...·hieh
makes for sueeea.
Lucian makes a similar point: 36
Poetry enjoys unqualified freedom. l u oole law is the pod. will. He
i. possessed and inspirul by the Muses. lfhe wants to harnea a team
of winged horses, or make people run on water or o,"er the top oftlte
corn, nobody grumbles ...
'" Quin'ilian '0.' (Al.C:J80 If.) .
.. Se~ btlow. Ch~pl" X 6. on Proch. > .<<<Jun' ur,he><" rna"", .
.. ' .'i ·H. cr. I><-Iow. Cha[ll.r V II 7.
)0 n, {MH<,i","", hu""i. 6 (ALe ~37) .
 Prolog~{ ,7

Let us, in conclusion, Iry to formula te some ass umptions On

which the 'critks' of the imperial agc worked . 1 am thinking
especially of ' LQ ngin"~'; a propt'r inl<;rpn: tation of On !Ublimi!)'
is al the heart ort he whole subject. Fo ur poinls come to mind:

(i) The 'crit k' is concerned wilh all poetry and formal prose,
which furm a unified (tho ugh nUl very well defined ) corpus of
lileral ure,
(ii ) He fcd; bound IOdiscuss it in both eth ical and rhe to rical
tcrms, and to minim ise the confli ct octween th ese twO I)Oints
"fview.
(iii ) On Ihe rh elOrical side, stylistic diflerellliat ion has
occomc the single most important topic.
(i") Poetry and prose differ in degree of realism, and lhe
difference is a wide one; but lhe Ari stotelian insight that im-
aginative literature uses di'l<;ounoe in a rundamentall y diffe rent
('mimetic') way rro m o ratory is either forgotten or set aside as
nO! relevant to (he busint:$li ofreading,j udgillg and reproducing
the d as.~ica l texts.

How did suc:h a Set of <Initudl's co me into being? l'he S1<)ry is

long a nd complex; what follows is an lI11emp t to o utline it.
main leatures.
 CIIJlPTER TWO

Narrative: from the

Beginnings to Aristotle

TilE earli~ t literature of Gre<:ce, the heroic epic, mark.'! abo

the beginning of literary self-conscious ness. T he poet of the
OdYH~Y has bards among his characters and praises their trade.
A good poet, we are told, brings events vivid ly to life. H e learns
his w ~}"' of $ong from the Mu.e, and with he r help beeoITle. a
valued and r~pected visitor in princely houses.' T he epic poet
is e"idenlly expected to make pronouncements abou t his arl -
the hard is a part nfthe heroic socie ty whieh he represents- and
10 di splay his profCSllion as one of SUITle co nsequ ence. The
stories that Homer was a child of a scr"ant of the schoolrnastcr
Phcmios, ami that he became hlind and begged his h read, a re
later romancing. 2 BUlthcre is no ovnt criti<:i'm in Ih ee pic, no
sugges tion tha t some talcs are untrue or that some predecessors
have gone wrong. T heTC may of conrse have been suppression
or expurgation, hut that is unprovable.' HesioJ, it is true, in-
lriguingly ma kes the [I.·l uses say that 'they know how to tcll
many lies thaI resemble the Irul h. and also, when they wish, to
lell thc tTlllh itsclr ; but he mak.,;, no specific charge, ;",d it is
an uncertain conjeClUre Ihat he i~ thinking of the mylhs in
Homer.'
Nevertheless, cri ti cism of th e absurdity or moral offcnsive-

, OJ.1~,,-r '.366 tf. , A·Hi If.• ' ~ · 34~ If.; AI.e ,- . ; Lan ata ' - '9 ·
'See the 'Life ofllomer by Herodotu" (cd. T . W . Allen in O. C . T.
Homer, w>1. v), "work or,he latc Hdl<ni"i~ or Rom.n period .
• The ea>c wa. startOd hy G . M urra)", n. Hi" 4 lit, G",(I:.,i<. t 2o-4~ .
• n~~.")· 26 ff. (ALC. ). s.-e btlo,.,.. Ch.ptcr VI 4.
 '9
ness orthe my thology ens hrined in the tradit ional poc':ms began,
it seems, in the sixth century with the Ionian philosopher
Xcnuphan 05;' defcnc\: by allegory-i .e. the discovery of ac-
ceptahle concealed meanings undcmcath the unacc",ptable
surface- is sa id aJ'IQ 10 have begun about the same time, with
Thcagcno of Rhcgium, 'the first man to write about H omer'.6
Even at this early period, the epics, already obsolete and
puzzling in language and (Olllent, wen: beginning to attract
the inlcrpn:talivc activities which have nevcr ccased since, and
which contributed immensely to the dc"elopmcrH of articulate
"iews about Ihe !latun: and qualities ufpoetry.

Lyric poe ts- induding the compo>;ersof choral lyric, whospcak

through the dlOruseS they ha\'c lrain~d - can corne forward in
their own persons much mo~e easily than epic bards. The Iy~ie
poet is not primarily a narrator, though he may of courn: tdl
sto ri es, as did Slcsichorus and Pindar, and it is noticeable that
both Plato and Aristo tl e emphasised th is aspec t of his wor k. It
is tllU~ not SO violent a breach of continuity or of illusion if he
steps forward with personal commen!. I n Pindar indeed this is
common enough to look like an established convention. His
ow n rdation 10 the M use as her prophet or spokesman, his
rival , ' plodding incompetence, Home r' s seductive falsifica-
tions, the improp rieties ofrnylh, are alilhemes which he takes
up, olien touching briefly and allusively on them, as thin gs ex-
j>ected and well understood.' It would appear also tha i it was
Ihe ly ric poets who counter-att ac ked moral critics like Xeno-
phHnes. At any r~te. when Plalo· gives examples of ,,·hat he
ca lls the 'ancknt quarrel lx:twecn philosophy and poetry", it is
from lyric that he quotes, though the provenance oflhe lines is
un known, sharp phrases like 't h e bitch that harks 011 mastn' ,
' L.n;". "3 Jr. 5<-,. at", hel",,'. C~.p'~r VJ ~ •
• Lana'a "'4 If.
, I'indar fro '50, 01. ~ .fI)-9'J. N"". , . 12; AIL" 3- 4; Lanala 74-<;17; C . M.
80,,·.... /'i""« •. ch. I ; "1a~hJcr, ch. 6; M. R. [..rlO"·;I~ in IISCI' 67 ( 1963)
'77f., and CQ,8 ('978) 461 f.
• R,p. 6o(ic-[I [ALe H ).
'0 Criticism in Antiqui!;y
' mighty among the vain words of fools', 'the dainty thinkers
starve', and so on. The late r comic attacks on Socrates and the
sophistS perhaps only echoed and vulgarised this apparently
.:arlier tradition of invective.

Drama and its attendant critical response are connected with

somewhat different social and political conditions rrom epic
and lyric. Plays were JXlpular entertainments al great festivals,
the dramatists competed normally under the auspices of the
Athenian demos. Thejudges altho:: Oionysia, who had 10 rank
the plays in order, were not a panel of th eatre (;ritics. 9 They
were a jury chosen by lOt, and they must have be",n expected to
give dedsions in tunc with popular taste. No doubt their sphere
was much limited by the fact that the archon had aln:ady
selec ted the three oomf'Ctitol1l. No doubt topicality, .entiment
and ~pcc tade had weight. But we . hou ld surely belie"" 1hat
they looh..:l also, and with some degree of connoisseurship, at
the poetry and the plot-oonstruction. The hes t evidence for this
is th " prevaknceof parody and caricature in Atti c comedy. The
various Euripi d"an scenes of Ackarniall.l, Tlusmopkllrio()is(U and
P.ac., nOI to .peak of th" b rilliant lyrical pastiches and debates
of the frogs, are full of.hrewd observations on tragic technique.
Th e function of Aristophanic parody is of coum: nOI strictly
cri tical. Its primary object is not to show how someth ing is
good or ba d - still less to teach t"chnique or point a moral-b",
to "xaggerate recognisable feaw...,. so as to make them funny.
Nevertheless, histories of criticism rightly give a promineIl\
place to Aristophanes. 10 M any of Ih e terms that constitute the
standard vocabula ry orIaler Greek criticism an; firlll found SO
used in his p la y•. P~uchr(}s is laler the regular lerm lor failures
caused b y misguided ingenuit y or grandeur; asttio~ r urbane' )

• For the evidence rdating to the j~dg,,", ,ee A. Pkkard .Camt.ridg<:,

DM"""iE Ftlli,ols Df Alh... , ( td.~. (968), 951f.
I. Som<lim"" an exaggerated one: .ee, e.g., the influential article of
M. Pnhknz, ' Die Anlling<: der gritthiochcn P""lik' (NGG '9'0; flt,iM
Sd'if"" ii, 436 - 72 ).
 Narrali,'~: flom 1M Btgznnings 10 Arislollt
"
is AriSlOtle's word for successful wit ; /i/I)$ and /,P10$ are vague
expressions for deli cacy and daintiness in Alexandrian and
Ani<;isl WriICT'!l. II Moreover, I he general ideas expressed in Ihe
debate (agon) belween Aeschylus and Euripides in Ihe Frogs,
whether original o r not, were clearly influential in shaping
later stylistic theory. 111e essence of Ihe a1:on is Ihe contrast:
grandiloq uence confront s wit, virili ly confronts d ecaden<:e. The
Greeks loved such antitheses; and the elfect of ArislOphanes'
formulation of this one was 10 sel a pattern for later stylistic
d escri ptions. We shall see much more of th is pattern; I have
already suggested tha t it was unfortunate, hut its influence and
importanc(, are beyond question.
The same debate a l!;O co ntains ideas abou t the moral and
prac tical value of llOCtry whic h arc of considerable signifi cance.
Aeschylus (1030 fr. ) is made to enumerate the useful services of
Ihe early pOl: L~ : O,.pheus for religion, ,,-! U'\:leus fi)r healing and
oracles, Hesiod for (arming, Homer for the art of war. The
juke, which i. aimed al a no torious 'bad soldier' ca lled Pan _
todes, who tried to pu t on his hdmet first and his plume
afterwards, derives wholly from the reference to Ho mer. T he
resl of the passage makcs nv contribu tion 10 the humorous
poim, except in so far as it builds up expectation. Now Horace's
A,s PIM/i(Q'l contains a very similar ar)l;ument. The value of
poetry is here demonSlrated by ,..,f,:rence 10 Orpheus, Am_
ph ion, the soc ial functions ofpoctry in carly limcs, and fina!!y
the martial ins piration of Homer and T yrtaclIs. Though Horace
ha.l elements which are n(>1 in Ari.~lophanl.o; - he allegorises the
myths of Orpheus and Amphion - there is enough similarity
to make some historic"l conncc tion likely. Morrov"r, it ma y be
;nfcrrro from 1'1,,10\ Pro/agoras (3,6D) that some wphists
claimed lhal Ih.ir ar, was the great ("ivi liscr of mankind, and
thaI Orpheus, Hcsiod alld Musaeus were, in their sense,
'sophists'. Th e hislorical possi bilities are two. Either Ari5 to-
phancs takes up a defence of poe try already current; Or else he
modifies what was origina!!y a dcf"nce of sopko;, 'wise men ',
gcner;,!!y, for the particular purpose of his debate. [n either
case, it is intr.n,:1Iing 10 speculate on what happelled III:XI. Is
"J. D. Dcnn ;'I<m. CQ'" ('9"7) "3--'l1.
U A " "..'i(. 39' It cr. Brink 38~ If.. Pohlen., " p. cit.
 Critici= i~ Antiqui!J
H orace's ultimate 'source' no other than Aristophanes? Or
did some more serious sophistic apologia of poetry reach the
Peripatetics and their Roman adapter independently of
comedy? Rudolf pfeiffer, in hi. classic account of the develop_
ment of ancient scholarship, U reasonably suggests that Calli_
machus owed the expression of hi. literary id eal - the delicacy
and li"'tis of the Alexandrians - precisely 10 Aristophancs'
formulation of the qualities of Euripides. If this is true, il is an
inSlanCe of a habit we can dete<:1 even in Plato: the habit of
taking Old Comedy too seriously, either a. a historical source
or as a quarry for ideas.

•
We are told by Plu tarch'" that the description of Aeschylus '
&~"'n againsl ThM.s as 'a drama full of the God of War' comes
from th e famous orator and teacher Corgia! of Leontini. It
occurs in fact in Aristophanes, at Frogs 10ZI. Much has been
built on this; it has been supposed that Aristophanes reproduces
Corgia.· theory. But the bu ilding is shaky, for Plutarch may
simply be mistak en. Th ere can be no doubt, however, that, of
all the sophists and teachers of rhetoric of his day , Corgias had
mQSt to do with the beginnings of crilicalthcory. Three propo-
sitions which he appears to put forward in his Difmct of Htiln
are cruciaL"
Th e first is that poetry ill logos uho~ m",ro~ , 'spec<:h having
(i. e. 'with' ) metre ', This is opcn to the interpretation that all
that is needed to convert prose into poetry is metrical fonn.
Such a view was common enough later. It was rejected by
Aristotle in the opening chapter of the Pl#'lics. It wa. abo re-
jected by Horace :1& if you brea k up the metre of semWnts like
Lucilius' o r Horace's own, of course there is no poetry left; but
do the same with some splendid pie<:e of Enniu., and th e
disiuli m(mbTa pt)(lal are recognisable enough. But did Gorgias

" Ifi"• .., ~ C/DSii«l/ Sdwl."h;p i. "tll-

".11•• _ 7'5., Ij.an .. a ".-,/;).
" Ex ,ract> in A.LC 6--8; t.~, in Radermacher , A..Ii ... Sc.ipw,<J; 5« in
grneral, V, Buchhrit. fJll> (;t>IIIJ itpilti( liM>I. 30 fr,
,. s"lim '-i-56 fr, (ALC ~67 ).
 ]{arratit't: jrom tht Btginllings to Aristotle '3
really mean that metre alone turned prose into poetry~ It is
natural 10 ask whether he conceives the relationship between
IOgM and me/ron as an inte rna l one between wholly integrated
e1emcnts of a whole, or an external one in which ' poetl)" is
simply the sum of the two. The safest way of amwering this
question is br looking closelr at the context. Gorgias is 'defend-
ing· or 'excusing' Helen. One defence is that she was deceived
by logos. Now for this to be an dTective argument, logos should
be represented as something she could not possibly be expected
to resi<1. [I ha., 10 be ered il ed wit h Ihe greatesl possible emo_
tional power. Now Ihe emOlion:!1 imp:!et ofpoctl)'- its power
to terroriseand sweep us off our feet - is, as Gorgias make~ clear,
universally acknuwledged. I~gos in general must then be see n
to ha\"e the same force. Th e spo:cial charactcristicsofpoetry and
its dill',;:rc nce from pmse ha\"e the refore \() be minim ised. Iflhis
is best dune, as it would seem, by t.eating metron as an r,x-
tcrnal ornamelll. 'H)I affc<:ting Ihe intrim i<: qualities of the
whole, then this is how we should condude Gorgias wishl"<i his
statemen t to be ta ken. "
T he second and third propositions in the Difwa oj Udell
COme from Gurgias' account of the emo tional elTcct of poet ry
itself:

Those who hea, poetry feellhe shudders offea,.. the le~rs of pily, the
longings of grief. Through il' .... ords. Ihe soul experien<:toS its own reac-
tions to successes and misfort ,,"es in the affairs a nd persom of olhers.

We should note two points here: Gorgia~' St rei\'; on the painful

eJllotions o f I'it y, fear and sormw ; and his recognition that the
sutle rings of others cxcite corresponding emotions in the
spectalOt1I. We nalurall y Ihi"k uf All;'; tra~edy: but elli<; too,
(0 j"d.~<· from "taIO·S lOll ( 5.').)C) ' was cxpecled 10 ha'·e a
powerful emotional <:frect on its audie,,..es. Corgias dearly
;lItticipates o"e eleme'" in what is 10 he Ari~ lolte· s "iew oflhe
dtaraC;lerisli<;s Ihal d efi ne Irag<;dy: the <;"'0Iion5 principally
in\"ol\"ed are pi I}" and fea r. BUI we have nu reason 10 Ihink Ihat
he defin ed Ihe effec t, M Aristotle did , as kalhursis, or that he

" )soc,",,,,, Gorj<i", pupil. ,ook a dilT<r~'" ,·i~w,""" E,".!,,,,,, 5, , !.

'4 CriliciJm in Antiquity

perceive<! that what hru to be explai ned is the impact on us of

events which we know to be simu lat",d.
One other statement abou t Go rgias has to he added to this
account of his views. It is reponed by Pluta rch,'· in an anti-
thetical and jingling stotem:e which is very much in Gorgias'
manner. We are told that Gorgias described the de.:eit (apa/I)
of tragedy a s one 'w herein the deceiver is j uste. tha n the non-
dec";"" ', the deceived wiser than th e undccei,·ed'. This
paradox amounts to affirming that ~(ic 'deceit' involve5 a
voluntary move on the heare r' s part. Th e illusion is the result
ora contraCl ; th e audience is no t under duress. Helen, on the
contrary , was; she represents the victim ofpcnuasion in the real
world.

5
Thu s, by Ih e end of the fifth century, the foundations both of
interpretative schula r:s hip "ud urliterary theory had been laid.
The first had emerged mainly from concern with Homer, the
second from reflection on the impact of Attic drama. But poetry
was not the only art to invite rcfkction and discussion. The
lalter part of the fifth century was also the age in which the
skills of pcnluasive speec h were first systematically taught, by
Gorgias him~lf among others. Thi., as we have ~en and shall
see again, was of decisive importance for all future lit erary
understanding. Al the same time, music, paiming and sculpture
flourished, all potential topics for the new spi tit of q uesuoning.
Damon ofOa,'~ who is assoc iated both with Prodicus and with
Pnicles, is said to have written - supposedly as early as the
+los - a fictitious Addms 101M ArtfJPagRJ in which he discussed
the psychological e ffect of music and the way" in which it co uld
repro:scnt various states of charactn (11M). This remained a
prime interest of musi callheory: the different instrum ents, and
still more the different 'modes', were held to have various
powers over the emotions of the hearer. But music, though

II M",..li.. 3~8c (AI.C 6). A limilar .rgum~nl in anOlh..,. ""phi.I;C l~xt

Diu.; hpj 3. I D.
,. t·, La...,,, •. PIMUlN,,,,·1It I.. "'lIJiq",·, Lau ... nn. '954,54 If., Wil .. mowitz,
G.inItiJ<N V....h.". ~_
 ./I'arratiu: fro m tkt BrginningI to Aristotlt '5
closely allied with poetry in many situations, was only inci -
dCllIall}' a represelllatio nal art, and did not offer a model of
m;mi$is in \he way \bat painting dearly did. If SimonidL"S
realiy said that 'p"inting is silem poetry, poetry is pain ting
that talks',l<I he gave epigrammatic expression to an analogy
that was to have ~rious consequences in the h istory of criticism,
On the whole, ancient art c ri\i cism was naivelv realistic and ils
influence on the understanding of litnature ~ften infelicilOUS.
Bu t how little we know of the diversity of opinion there mUSI
have been a bout suc h things is strikingly shown by an anecdote
dating frolll the middle of the fifth centul)', The poet Sophodt-s,
at dinner in Ch ios, admired the pretty boy who was serv ing
the wine:

'How riglu I'h ry" ichus wa~,' he said to hi, neighbour, 'when he
wrole "on red rheek.< shines \he ligh\ orlove"!' The F. r<:\rian, whowa,
a ><:hoolmasler, look this up_ 'Of coun;e, Sophucles, you are an eX~rl
in poetry. But Phrynichus ,,·"s surely wmng in calling the boy's
chee ks "red"_ Ifa painter were w uSe;, red colour for them, the boy
,,-uuld,,', he a heauty any more, ,.'
Sophocles laughed, 'Then I lake iI, 8ir,' he said, 'thaI you don't
appl'Q\'e eilher of Simonide!!' much-admired line, "Ihe maid from red
lips spuking"- or of Homer', "gold-h:lir"') Apoll"'" For if the
painter had made Ihe god's hair gold and not black, the painting
would ha,-e t..:.:n worse, And whal about "r<.»y_ti ng ercd"? If you
dipped your finge", in rOSe colour, Ihe resuh would be a dye_worker'~
hands, nOt th.,..., of a heautiful woman. '2l

The dill~rence belween ~tical and graphic represenlation

was not made so dearly again in anti(luity,

It has always seemed shocking that Plato, Il Ihe grealest literal)'

genius of (he fourth century, Ihe effective im'cntor and
,. Plu\a«h, M(}I, 346y (ALC 3),
" hm of Chioo f' , 8 '"On Bt""'~lllbal (39' .'6 J~coby; ALC 4- 3),
"P. ViC3ir~, Plalc~ : "ili"", lilli'ai". i. lh~ moot u...rut 'ur,,~y, but \he
lileralure u immw",. 1\ ..""'" """'y of diuincti"n i. h i> Murdoch, Til< F;"
aod rJu S~o ( ~on h~r Roman .. U t' ''''' or 1976), Scoc al"' J, .... oordcric.
11 lJialCl "' pl.leoi.;,. <k /.. ",.I.,ilJ ( 1978) 71~,
 Criticifm in Anti'luilJ
unequalled pr..ctitioncr of a highly M>ph istieated genre, the
philosophical dialogue, which may properly be regarded as the
literary sy mool of free inquiry, shou ld at the same time have
consistently advocated the most rigid and doctrinaire moral
censorship of the arts. Clearly aware that exccllo:nce and
correc tness in poctry were distinct from excellence and correct-
ness in other activities, he drew the conclusion that they must
a lways give way to moral considera tions. Poets could han: no
claim to knowlo:dge j they peddled illusion and dece it. The
bener pocts they were, the more likely they were to deprave.
It is easier to ~ympathise with his parallel rejection of
rhetoric. \Ve readily range ourse lves against those who 'honour
the probable above the truth', Ihe 'flatterers' (kolaktj ) who
cynically exploit (he " 'eakness or their fellow men. We enjoy it
therefore when Plato shows us how absurd are the pretentions
of the rhetoricians, how facile and easily parodied the tricks of
thcir trade, how ridiculous th eir tec hni calt erms.llit is when -
iLl in his Gorgias- he cxtends his condemnation to all sucial and
political systems which rest on public persuasion that unease
returns. The ancient debate over Plato's attaek on rhetoric con-
tinu<:d int o the last ages or the ancien t world . AeEus Ari~tid es,
summiug up the rhetors' answer in the late second century A.V.,
produces the clinching argument:
RhelOrie . . " .«.\ itl\"en ted ... as a defence of righleousnC'lS and a
bond of life for mankind,"" that matters mighl be decided nO( by
strength of arm or by W(aptHlS, not by number. and si~e; in plau:..,f
all Ihis, Reason ..... ,., I.., dClCTTIl;nc ju.( 5<)lu(;oos in peacc and quicl. 1'

T h~-se Platonic altitudes, and our rC$ponse to thcm , take us a

long way from the ordinary levels ofliterary judgment. They
represent the working-out of certain extrclll e positions. The
R~/JWbli( appears to lustain IwO proposit ions: that only ' know-
ledge of the Forms' possesses real validity, nlher kinds orhuman
ulld eT! tanding heing inferior in varying tlegrees; and that the
principles of political life shou ld be established on Ihe assump--
tio n thai we can find or create rulers ..... ho do in fa<;1 have both
U /'h,,"'
f..g. .. , .,66".
"0, ./;•• ~.~IO If. (There i. a" t:"gti, h Ira.,,!. by C . A. IIo!hr in Ihe Loeb
cl r;"iJu. ,"(O!. i 1'9731.)
 N arra/ivt : jrIJm /Ilt Btgillnings /0 A ris/Pllt '7
true knowledge and the ability to apply it to practical problems.
The difficulty inherent in interpreting statements made in this
context and as par! of this modd is that of assessing the clement
offanta.'lY and irony in it all. T he more litcrally wc take Plato's
attack on the poet.>, the mOre plainly we have to confess that
his polit ical despair, in its search for scapegna ts, led him to a
total, one might almos t say hyster ica l, rejectiun of a large
dement in the culture in which he was brought up. But this
seems absurd. Perhaps it is only the lip-rejection common in
radical thinkers. I rony abounds in the dialogues; perhaps it is
hue too. Something like th is is P. Vicair~--s conclusion, at the
end ofa very careful and methodi ca l study. The irony , he says,

touche!; other writers and the am they practice, but turns back 011 to
the philosopher himself, insofa r as he consents 10 write; it i$ then the
daily s."Jeguard, 'he ind ispc:nsah1e re>o:rva,ion , 'he mea", of freeing
on""elf from a uni,"~rsal w~aknos; mure dea<-sigh\cd than the rest,
ron~ious of the danger.! he mns hi,meJr, 'he philosophe< set< up ,hi,
smiling, sometim,," uther melancholy, defence, wh ich allow. him
always (0 keep his distance ."

I' la(o's theoretical arguments, neve n heless, will «)lItem us

in the ir place, as will the replies and discussionj which they
excited. They touch on great issues: the poe t's nature and
commitment, and the quality and condition~ of h is mimisis of
the world. But Plato'S own understanding oflherawre appears
far more dearly in his pastiche than in his theory: in the
speeches ill (he S)'mposium, especially Agathon's; in t he mock
funer al speeeh of the AftntxUlUS; and in the Lysias parody in
the Phatdrus. In most uf thtse p laces, (he overt criticism is of
content; but content and treatment go together, and much of
the fun i., at the expense of styl istic manneri sms.
All these passages- indeed, almos t all Plato's parodies -
relate to what iscalled 'cpidcictic' or;ttory. T hi,;'1 an important
but amb iguous tcrlll .26 It is sometimes used (0 denote all
or atory designed to provid<! a <ii.play (~pidtixis) of the speaker's
"0[>. cit., 4'0- " . Su~h amhivalcnc~ and iron)" could ",ell havc hem
ramili"r 10 Plalo', original reade,,; ,,'e rna)" "<>mparc hi. "<>n'cmpurary
Alcidarna, ' written attack 0" written ""ml""ilio" ( Radermacher, AS , 3S ff. )
,. On ,!o i, ~mbiguily,...., M~nalld e< Rheto<, cd. I) . A . Ru .. dl and K G.
Wil><>n ( '!)S' ), [>. xx .
,8 Criticism in Antiquity
powers, no! for any practical pll~; but sometimes abo-~
by Aristotle-e xclus ively for the oratory of prai5c and blame,
d esigned as it is 10 'display' the good or bad qualiti es afits sub-
ject. The first definition , the wider of the two, is the com-
moner and the more useful as a historical description; the
second, probably th e earlier, has a dearer logkal character. In
any case, this kind of work was a development of th e sophistic
period. Its imJXlrtance for our theme lies in the fact that it is in
some wa)"l a half_way hou$C betweo:n oratory and JX'Ctry. Its
most obvious functions, praise and blame, werc the traditional
sp heres of the poet, which the orator now claimed to take over.
Its subjects were naturally taken from a wider range than th ose
of forensic or deliberative oratory. Gorgias and his pupils
Polycrates and 1socrates used mythical an d fanciful thcmes. To
show how Helen or Palame<les might be defended is not just
practice for th e cuun~. It invokes an imaginati ve treatment of
myth, and a degree of reflCC lion on general issues of guilt and
responsibility which would probably beout of place in practical
oratory. T he element of sheer play (jMidia, />IIigni()~ ) was also
large; encomia ofSah, Fever and Ikath were written primarily
to display ingenuity and give the pleasure of paradox." All such
speccht"S are meant to have a pennanen!. not just an ephemeral,
value. H ence they had to possess the a ccu racy of written ~ty l e, >0
that the di~tant or fU1ure reader could not mistake the writer's
meaning. And finally, many speeches a re in Aristotle's sen""
'mimetic'. bt:<:ause they may deal with imaginary situations and
imply the construction of a plot. This is true partkularly of
dedamat ions. which. though not 'epideictie' in the striCter sense,
arc works intended for exercise and amusement rather than for
real usc.
There are thus many I"easons fUI" I"cgarding 'epideictie'
o ratory as of special interesl. We have seen how consideration
of the conditions of declamation led ' pseudn-Oionysius' losome
SOrt of general literary theory; we ~ hall ""e later how other lat e
rhetoricians embraced history, philosophy and allwrtsofprose
writing under the head of the 'epideictie' or, as they somctimes
called it, the 'panegyric' kind."
"Sc<: A. S. P~""'" 'Thing> with .. u, hUmlur" CP 2t ( '926) 27- 42.
"&c H c""og~n ... De it.;, 3iI9. 7 Rat.e ; t.etow, Chapter X.
 Narralit'e: ir9m Ihe Beginnings 10 AriJ/olle '9
7
Plalo did nOI lea ch rhe lorie or r"'gard it as a proper subject o f
study, His great cst pupil paid it gn :at anemion. Aristo tle not
only collected and studied carliu rhetori cal lu hnai, but himself
wrote a Rhetoric wh ieh had an en ormous inAuenee on all sub-
sequent work.20 In its time, it was a high ly original hook, as we
ca n see by comparing it with the onl y extant luht/iofthe older
Iradilion, Ihe RIte/on'(Q Qd A/aat/drum, whose surviva l is do ubt-
less due to its bei ng attrihnt",d to Aristo tl e him selfinslead of to
his co ntemllOrary, Aoaxime nes of La mpsac us, whom the re is
g()(J(] ground to consider its author. T he hasis o r thi s boo k, as o f
carly ledmai in general, is Ih e hrea kdowll of speec hes illln their
co nstituclll 'parlS'- proocmiull\, na rrative, argument and
confirm a tio n, epi logue-and th e prov isio n of appropriate
precepts for each of these. Th is is a procedure which Plato
ridi c uled in the Phaedrus, and which Aristo tl e clearl y thought
unimpo rtant. The ir object ion to il was sound and of wide ap-
plication: knowkd ge of parts was only 'Ihe preliminary to the
art ' (10. pro liJ lubis), fo r Ihe an itself lay in knowing how to pUI
the pieces together to form a coherent whok. Th is was as true
of tragedy as of o ratory; and the rea lisa tiun uf it is no duubt the
reason why Arislolk in Ih<: P",Ii<S shows SO link inlt:rcsl in
Ihe analogous 'q uantitative' division of tragedy into prolog lle,
<: pioodes, choral parts ;lI1d am/9S.JIJ
At any ra,,:, I,,; o rga nised hi~ Own Rh£/..,r;con a difrere nt plan.
Box,k I dt:ah fi rst with the kinds of argu mr nt "s~d in pcrsua~iv"
spea king, and the diffe rence between these and the arguments
valid in dialectic- i. e, logical forms a p propriate to philosophy
and scie ncc. Jt then proceeds to d L'Scri be the three main types uf
ora \ory-d clibcrati",:, fore nsic and epidcietic- and the topics
appropriatl'l y handkd Iw Nch _ Hook II is (OtH:erncd mai nly
with a psychological study of th e emo tio ns a nd cha rac ters of
th e spea ker's a ud ico(e; it i~ n<:ct'SSitry, "ri_l lm le hold .., fo r thc
10 A c",,,"c,, ie,,, an.ly,i, of the RIvMU in K•• med)'. A" of I'",,,,uu,,.,
H2_ ' '4-
>0 j'",lie, .~. " 'he." th"", par" arc di><u..ro, rna)' ,,-ell be 'puriouo: d .
""",,<iall)" J. Va hlen, Hal,lit . {~ .i ,i"."I" l'fIr/ii. ( '9'4 ), 39: ami mOll' "'-
~cn")' O . Taplin, no. Slog(tr4j1_f A.Hh)'i", ( '977), i70 f. Cf below. Chapler
x,.
3" Criticism ill Allliquiry
spca ku 10 und erstand how and why ~ople feel certain emo-
tions, and what the obj e<:: ts o f these emo tions are. Particularly
important arc anger, pity and fear. Books I and n thus
roughly fulfil the requirement for a 'scientifi c' rhe to ric, ou t-
lined by Pla to in the PhatdruJ, II and an: firmly based on the
ethic< of the Academy. Book m is about diction and arrange-
ment; and il is the section on diction which is m uch the most
sign ifica nt part o f th e whole wor k from th e point of view of
criticism in gencral. 32 Aristo tle gives an 3COO Unt orthe develop-
ment of prose style, and his views on what is good and what is
bad be<:ome apparent. Detailed cri ticism is con centrated
mos tly on cpidcic ti c oratory, on Gorgias, lsocrates and Ald-
damas. The great forensic and political orators-Lysias, b aeus,
Demosthenes- are less p rominent. Though the earlier pari a t
least of De most henes' career must ha ve bun known to Aristotle
wh"n th e RlulOr;c was COml>06ed, he alludes to him only
once ..!3 Politically, they were on opposi ng sid es, And it seems
to be late r- with th e second -gene ration I'cripatctic Humippus
-that the story of Demos the nes' havi ng been a pupil of Plato
be<:omcs cu rrent;,\oI and later still, perhaps not till the first
cen tu ry B, C " that he comes to be regarded as ' the ora tor' par
txctlltnct ,
The genera l plan of Aristotle's Rhtlorie beca me in fact the
paHern for mos t latu handbook$. To its basic themes of in-
,-entio n, arrangemen t and slyle were add ed delivery (hupo-
trim ), which Aristo tl e had mentioned, and th e pscudo-
science of mncmonics,ll A system which began in a p h ilo-
sophical school, and in conscious opposition 10 the p ractice of
rlu/ortS, thus came to d ominate th e rhetorical educa tion of all
later antiquity, The sha rp oppositio n be tween the Academy

JI 27' -~ (..1 /£ 7g-80),

., ALC ' 34 If.
... 140 7' .1_
.. Plu'~r<h, /h"IJJIh<." 5.7; Gd lim 3.' 3. ' - 5. &e A. S, Rig; ""', 1'1.U>OUd,
lrid~n '976, ' 3~- Tha, Dcmoo,hen", I~arntd from A ri'tOlI~ is a n ab$u,-d ;,y
rightly ",fu,td b)' (}j'my.iu. of llalicama ..", in his L..:"~r '0
Ammaeu._
M The h~.ic luI> for ,hi, a , e Ad Il"",~i.", 3 -~1I-4o, Cice", lh ",.1"..
~ . 35,,-60, and par" of Quinlili.n 11.'_ Stt II . Blu m, Di. •• liA, M ...... I"..... il
(Spudaomala '5) ; and, fo, Ihe I.,c, dc,-elopmenl!, Francco A . Yalco, TAl
A " oif .\f"''''~ ( '!j66),
 .Narratiu : from tnr Btgilmillg5 to Ari5M/' 3'
and the schools of Gorgias and isocrates, wllich had charac.
terised fourth.century educational debate in Athens, was later
muc h modified; in the end, AristOtle', successors <ecm to ha"e
om:red a type of training in general argumenta tion and
invcntion not so very different from that of lsocrates himself.

The I'o,t,cs- appan::ntly earlier than the Rhetoric in its present

form - had no such spectacular fortunt: in ancient timt:S. It did
not come into its own till the Renai ssance ; indeed, Greek and
Roman critics fairly consistently Il,isu nderstood or neglected
many of its essl·ntial d oct rine!!.
This short, uniq ue and vc ry diffi c ult hook touc hes on many
topics. It hegins with the general theor~' of poetry as a ~pcdes
of mim etic a rt , and develops some of the (ons~"luenccs of this.
We arc made to sec how the grow th of poetry from 'nalUral'
demands of human nalUre may be reconstructed, how its
princ ipal genres arose, and in panicular how tragedy began
and d eveloped to the point where it fulfils its ' nawrt:' , A la rge
pan of the book is then taken up with Aristotle's a nalysis of th e
clements of tragedy, the pre-cm inellee "f plOt, the . " lIofd in'lIe
but still important pans played by cha ra cter and ideas, and so
o n. Chapters t9 - 27, which deal with diction , includ e a good
d ea l of Whal we <hould call g rammatical theory, and arc
relevant to poctry in gent:ral, and not simply to tragedy. At
c hapter 23, :\ristotle proceeds to epic, expla inin g the ways in
whic h it differs from traged y, Ihe excelle nce o f Homer, the
proper al'pmach to tradit ional criticisms of Homer, and
finall y the reasons for regarding tragedy as su perior to epic nOI
only in the vividness of the impressioll it mak es but ill its
greater degree of unity and c,oncentration.
Now in mu ch of this, Aristotle i, " '" I>onding I<> prcdcccssors-
on the one hand, soph ists a nd grammari,,,,s: On the uthn,
PIal<>. His brief, and not ye t cOllll'letdy unde"' ood, allusion
10 the tragic "<llhanis '6 or ,-motionl a~ a f;Ill1iliar ide" can easily
be seen as some kind of ans",.:r to Plato' s in~i stc n ce that Ihe
"" H9' 28. A «(cn' ,'" Iu,ht< , urw y ;, A. ;>;ia,', l:io;I"" b 16 rdlh.,,;,
1,.,iq., ,u,IU An',It>U, Sofia 19iO.
3' Criticism i~ Anliquil)'
emotional impact of tragedy was psyc hologically destructive.
His aMenionll that poetry is about 'generaliti es' (Ia kalho/uu ),
while history is about panicular a cts of individual people, im-
plies a n:bultal of Plato's denial of the poetS' claim 10 possess
or imparl knowledge. Plato had also proclaimed the superiority
of epic, which he held 10 be less mentally disturbing than
drama; Aristotle uses aesthdic crit cria-tsp!:cially the cri-
terio n of unity - to determint the c ase in fa\'our of trage<ly. I I
is the most singular achic\'crnen! of the PMlics- ~en clearly in
this last argument - that Aristotle connivo, for the 111os1 pari
at least, \0 handle his subject in conscious isolation bolh from
rhctork and from ethics.
The se<;tion on comedy is missing. R c<:onSITuctions of it basw
on later tex ts are, l8 to say the leasl, speculative. But if we had it,
we might well be in a position to say something of interest about
th" rdation of An. tot!"', theory to Ih" practice of COlU"mporary
pot ts. T he POlties precedes the comedy or
Menander, whose
Ii !"!.t pla y was pmduced a year aft er Aristotle'. dea th ; bOI nO
doubt Aristotle was familiar with the development of the
comedy of everyday life in the preceding generation. The
quest ion is w hethe r he in fact influenced it. Some fealures of
II.l enandrean comedy mak" this .eern qui te likdy ; the im~
portance given to plot-conSlrucuon, th e descriptions of charac-
teTS and intentions, and the brand of humour. Aristotk in thl';
Ethics contrasts wit with vulgarity, and what he commends
accords closely with the practicr; of New Comedy.J9 Again, his
pupil, Theophrastus, has kft us a ~ t of skr:tches40 of human
quirks and foibles which s«:ms much more relevant to the
ponrayal of characters in comedy than to any conceivable
nero of the forensic orator o r the moralist.
These .sc holastic works on rhetoric and poetics do nOI exhauu
)"1'45,'6 .
.. Exlremely 'r""'u tali," is L.a pe Cooper, A~ An,k>kIia~ Tiuw.! ~fC<mUti.!
For 'M 'Tracla'us eo;.linianus·. on ,,·hich 'hio is ha>«l. ! « belo...
( '9U) .
Q,"p'~' X 5. "'i,h Appmdi~. p. 203 .
,II,,,,,,,,,,,,.
.. EI~. ).it. 4.'4. On thi . ...·oolc topic, I t t W . C . Amott. PloulI<J
and T"ntU r C.cc<e and Rom. Su ..." Y" ) '4 If. and Po""s .flN L;.",PHi
t...lin Sn..i •• , 2 ('979). 343 If.; F. H. Sandhach, G...... 39 (,g(i7) 218 If.
.. T h. moo ••..,en' anno.".<:<1 «Iilio", or Theoph .... lu.· C/w,tu/n' a..., b~
P. Sleinmc," ( ,g60--2 ) and R. G. U.. hcr (,g\io).
 .Narraliu(: from Ihe Btgimtillgs tQ Aristotle 33
Aristotlc's contrihution 10 the study of literaturc. When Dio
Chrysostom"l obse rved lhat kriliU and grammatiki began with
Aristotle he was refnring to the dialogucs in which the philos_
opher praised Homer, and ~"'peciHlly 10 On /I.~ poets, Hsubstantial
work in three boo ks, which not o nl y covered some of the same
ground as the imroduetory dl;lpte~ of the Pot'l;cs, hut con-
tained a good deal of h i~ toriral an d biographical fact and
legend. Again, Ari!tolle's an li(l'.m rian st udies wnc extremely
impon am:"l they ineluded records of victories at festiva ls,
didtllkaliai in which the names of archons, poets, plays and
chi ef aClors Wl'1'e carefully registered. No one hefore Aristotle
had allempted such documelllation in ~nything relating to
Ii terary history. His resea rchl'S hecame t he basis of the official
inscribed records that the t\th enians erected in th is period, and
inspired similar records in later lime. In th is field , e,-en more
than in poctie~ and rhetoric. he opened up the way for Alex.
andrian and l~ter scholars. Di rect influence is less cenain.
Demetrius of Phaleron, a pupi l of Aristotle and su bseq uently
governor of Athens under i\-Iacedoni an rule Irom 317 to 307,
lil'ed in exile at A lexa nd ria, and was concaned with Ptolemy
I's foundation of the lI.-lous.:ion;4J but what sL holarly mClhods
and approaches he, or anyone else, brought from the Lyceum
to the new celHre of learning in Egypt, mmt remain mailer lur
conjectu re.

" Oral;"" 36 .1 .
"Pfeiffer , 11;,10..,. i . 79-114: l'icka.-d.C.mbrid~~, Drd,"a,i< FtSli",/, oj
1I,';"w" 66 If.
•, F ra",., PI.I,,,,.;' .~I(~."J';a, 31 ~ If.
 CHAPTER THReE

Narrative: the Hellenistic

Age from Aristotle
to Horace

,
ARISTOTL E believed that tragedy can atlain its proper effect
simply by being read.' T his is entirely consistent with his view
of the predominance of plot over the other elements of a play.
It is also, like his preferen<:;e for .... ritlen o\"er ~ I)Oken oratory/
cha ractcristic of h is age. I n the H ellenist ie. age, a generat ion or
t ....o ancr Aristotle, the ualance between speech and writ ing
seems vnydi ffcrelll from what il wa.< in Ihe fifth or early fourth
CCnlury. It is perhaps no gr(,:aI exaggeration to say that people
Slopped thinking of writing as simply the record 01" speech or
song, and ocgan ra lhcr to think of speech as a mode of per.
formancc, an actualisation of a writt en composi ti on alread y
existing in its own right and waiting for the performer. A pair
uf examples may help to point the comTast. In thesixlh eemury,
the ]">Of:t Th(':Ognis promiM:d his heloved Cy n lllS an immurtality
which consisted of innumerable repeli lions of his !-Ong «I
dinner through linure ages.' On the other hand, the i",mOrlal.
it)" of the H ellen istic poet, according \0 Horace , f(:S\S on poems
that dese rve 'prcscrving .... ith cedar..<)il and keeping safc in
I Pottu, '4 ~' 18, ' 453' 4, '46~' I~ .
, Il/vt. ,;( '4 ' 3' 3·
' T hfflgni. ~37 ff. ( Al.e 3) ,
 .Na"ali~: Ih~ HrllmiJlic Ago/ram AriSWllo/a lIarace 35
smoolh cypress'" The singer di es, th e book p rese rvCl; : '$ tilJ are
Ihy pleasant \'oi ces, thy Nightingales, awake.' s
It seems na tural that this way ofl<X}ki ng al the written word
should gi ve new life to non-<irama{i c poetry. Tragedy and
comed~' lost their recem dominance. u u dramm b (or rotuits,
such as Alexandrian tragedians wrote, never had much lifc.
They seem w ha ve been e xercisl.-s in drama tic rhe wric and
ilhf)J rather than in plot_con~ truct ion. Scnecan tra ged y is their
direct descendan t. Th e one co ndition on which, in Ari stotle's
vie w, they might have succeeded , wi\.! thus nOI fulfilled.
Horace 's .'Irs, based on Helle nist ic sources, re Aee ts these im-
perfec{ions : he discusses consistcnc), o f charaCler, techniques of
chorus and messenger, a nd SO o n, but says nothing about
probability and necess ily in the plOI, nothing aboUI happ y and
unhappy endin~, nothing aoout recog nitio n a nd pnifultia. I n
any case, the soc ial condi tions whic h had fos tered the Attic
thea tre, a nd were to give a brief heyda y to the Roman stage in
lhe second ccmury B. C., seem to ha \'e been absent.
Lyri c too had lilt l<: ch;,nce of significant revival. Th e musical
and me tri cal tec hniqut-s we re difficult , and soo n forgone n.
Sc holarl y interest in th e various genres of lyric and in the
int erpretatio n or survi ving texts did not lead 10 imitation. Only
the simpl e personal lyric of the earl y Les bian poets found imi-
Iato.,.. Ho r;lce had so me Hdlenistic precede nt in taking
Sappho a nd Aka e us as modcls, eve n for hymns and poems of
state.' The re remained eleg y, iambic and above a ll lhe hex-
ameter epi c. The greal sch olar- poe t.! kn ew and loved H omer
and Hcsiod. They also knew thai they .;ould not do the same
thing ." T heir epics, h)'mns, encom ia and so on, ShOI through
• Ali /,<"IU4 332.
, W . J Oh ,...;n c."y" famw . T~ .. d<Ting nf (: ~ ll i ma c h u •. CpigT. ·,H (_ ~ pigc.
2 I'f.i lf.. ) . Thc 'nightingales' (a'do",.) are sometima thoug h' to Ix the tille
of li .rad i,u, · book .
• O n ,hi. (onc'pI. see e:sp. O . Zwierl ein , V i, H,~iI4Ii"'IS"Q''''" s.."".,
( ,!j66).
, Me,"ono' , /{)"'. to Ho~ cou ld Ix a " ,"a rn ' ped one", E. D iehl, tI"l~
log;4 L),i(8 (;'0"0 3.3 ' J f. ; C. M . IInwn in ] RS ' 9~ 7. 2 , If. Bu, .he pn<'m
may Ix o f im perial d ale. and il> .on. wo uld ... i, Ihe second (cn luri A.O.: "'"
M . I.. Wa l, A)-U~, : G'u(hi;d,~, 0. ' B)~."lj"i"",,: R.'olj K<yiI<II. {M'"
"'.'~<l-'I<. GtbuTblal ( '978) ' 07 f.
• So Theocri.", 7.4Y H.,d ul ' he workon an who builds a house . , big ...
 Critirum ill Antiquity
with allusive learning and civilised wit, were essentially new.
I t was natural that they should proclaim this, and adapt to
fresh purposes the traditional statements of poetic intent that
they found in Hesiod a nd Pindar.
Callimachus was the greatest of th ese men. His immense
scholarly activity of classifying and authenticating texts ex-
tended over the whole range of literature, oratory as well as
poetry. It is interesting that the greatest oflater connoiloSeun of
rhetorical style, D ionysiu! of Halicarnassus, judged him in-
compete nt in Ihis ficld.~ He was not a follower of Arislotl e, but
rather an opponent. He wrote 'against' th e Peripatetic Praxi-
phane:s. '0 a work in which he also praised the didactic poetry
of Aralus' Phatncmtlltl. H e was in facl clearly opposed 10 much
thaI Aristotle had advocated. Unity and size (mtglllun) were
not, for him, q ualitie:s of literary significance; variety and per-
fec ti un uf fin ish wne more imponant. The ideal cam e ncar to
the portrait of E uripides' qualilies that had been given by
Aristophane:s. Callimaehus' main programmatic statements
were seminal not only in Grc£k literature bUI even mOTe in
Roman. The image of the 'river of As.~yria' bearing filth on its
water, cont rasted with the undefikd !Tickle of the holy spring,
passed into the language of criticism." ' Longinus' uses il in
reverse to reject the whole ideal ofperfeetionisl delicacy: it is
not the little spring we admire, however userul its drinking
water, hut the mighty Rhine a nd Danube and the still mightier
O(ean. 11 Other potent images appear in the prologue of
Callimaehus' Ai/;aY It is th e gods' business to thunder! not th e
poe!"s. Apollo' s advice is to keep th e poem 'slim' - fatness is OIl!
right for sacrificial animals, bUI not a desirable quality in
poetry. It is the untrodden path, not the highway, which the
poe!"s c hariot must travel.
A touchstone oftasle in H ellenislic times seems to have been
a Q>oumain. and lik~",i", {Iwsc bird, of {h~ Musa "').., Lobou. in ,·ain by
trying '0 ero ..· down (he Bam of Chi".."
• See CaU;machm fro « 6- 7 Pfeiffer.
,. C O. Brink CQ. 40 (' 9.\6), I ' -<>6.
" Hy"," ~ ·''''5 If. (AI'I"'"dix . p. 'flo): n . 1'<01"''';u, 3.3 (..-i,h M. E.
H uhbard. l'rop<!rI;1tI 78 9".) .
" 35+
" ,11'1;«. fro 1.21 If (AI'J""KI;'. p. 18, ).
 Nana/it'! : Ihe Hr/lmiJ/it Age f rom .'Iris/oil! /Q Horact 37
th e late classical (fifih_eentury) e pic poet Antimac hus of
Co!ophon, who wrote both lo\'c poetry and an epic Tlubaid.
He had appa renlly been a favourite of Pla to, p<:rhaps bl:cause
of his high moral tone ; later he was judged severe and chaste
(ausliros, Jophron ) by admirers, turgid and o bscure by op-
ponents." These incl nded the CaHimaehean , and , later, their
Roman imitators. Am ong those whu eo ncc rn ed th cmse lvell with
Amimachu s was Agatharchid es of Cnidos, a his torian a nd
critic who nuurished in the fir.sl half of the second cenlu ry a nd is
of considc rabk interes t in the histo ry of taslc.' ! Agatharchid es
wro te a syn opsis (rpilfJ11ul of Antimac hus' Ly dt, whi ch was a n
elegiac poem in several Ix:>oks, co nt aining appa rent ly a series uf
roma nt ic and myt hological stories. So pres umabl}' he admired
this. He also made a severe aHack o n th e oralOr a nd historian
Hegesias of Magnesia,16 who was la ter muc h allacked by
dassids ing crit iC'! lik e Dionysin.< (a mi even ' l .onginu5'), Ihongh
he had himself daimed 10 bt an imita to r or th e simples l of the
Allie o rato rs, Lysias. The bnrdtll of Agatharc hides' a llack is
in fact very like thaI of these later writers : H eg~'S ias' co mm ents
on th e sack of The bes are said 10 be frivol ous ;lnd nnreal , thOSt:
of Stratoclcs a nd De mosthc ncs dig nifi ed , serious and far
wo rthi er of the occasion. [I loo ks as if a ccrtain strain in
rn etori ..... 1 cri ticism witn whi ch 'Longi nu s' and D;on ys;u, mak,'
us fami lia r in fac t goes back m uch ea rlie r. Hut we ha rdl y know
enuug h a bout Aga tha rd, id,;s tu mak e a cohe rent picture of his
allit udes and their rela tion 10 thost; of his contcm po ra ries.
H ellenistic poe try, ho weve r, has ~ noth cr <;ha ractc ristic im-
porta ll1 fo r our th eme, in addilio n to its cmphasis on craft~m an ­
~ h i [l a nd on th e avoida nce of the wel l-t rod den way. The poss i-
bilit y of some kind of vernacula r poel ry wa s alive in the fo unh
ccntury, for th e gap betwee n Ihe la ng uage or New Comt-d y and
" II. I\"y"" Anli",,,,hi Rdiip<iM ( , (136 ) ""lice" ',,,,,i lll onia' : "'. "'p. "]" ~- '3 .
Pa,'i~"tart )· in'~rc>'in~ ",faenc.. a<e (;.""11,,, 9~.9, [);(}n . ~b t . C. .." . V....b.
~~. ,\ n,imadlU ' and PIa,,, : i\ . S. Rigin".. l'ldl.";<~ ('976 ), ,67"""9 - .hough
,he may wdl l", ,a king 'ou a edulo u. ~ ,'jew of'h"'" anced",,,, , ,h~ ... ur~c of
" 'hjch (a, I.as' in f""' ) ""en,, ' (} I", lIerad id ... P.... "'jcn •.
., l'l""in' ru d Agalharchjd .. (Bibl!'I/I<rd , coo. '5(}). Sec r ra"" , PM,,,,.,,
AltJi.,.,,,,~, 54(} tf.
,. lj.,. App<:ndix, pp. ' 73 If., and 'lO,e ,lie eri.ici.m of 'LoBsin"" 3.2, wi,lI
Ru...,lI'. no' e"J /0<.
3' C,itirurn j" Anliquig
that of ordinary s~cch does nOl1ook large. The metre of comic
dialogue imposes few constraints on speec h rhythms. Not only
is the iambic, as Aristotle sa)lll,11 the nearest of all metres to
speech, bUl lhe variety and freedom wil h which it was used by
M enander demonstrate an exceptional ability to combine
metrical regularit), with the rhythms and intonations of ordin-
ary speech. New Comedy does n01 read as though it was meant
to be dl-.:laimoo. At a somewhat lalcr period, the criti.::
Demetrius drew a distinction between the pla)lll of Philemon,
whi ch were good to read, and those of Menander, which were
better acted; he had in mind the frequent lack of conne<:ling
conjunctions in Mellander, which, he thought , ·stimulated
drama ti c delivery' .'8 Frequency of connection makes for a fool-
proof written style; (h e opposite for (h e bener reproduction of
natural speech. M"'nandc r'~ lingu istic realism was very mu ch
a temJXlrary phenomenon of fourth-century Athens. T he
literary conditions of th e following period ruled out its con-
tinuanc..,. Even humorou. and satirical poe. ry was now com-
posed in dialects based on older lile rary models and was not
meanl as a reproduclion of anyone's actua l speech. The
reasons for this are complex. T o the old tradition of the special
language of poetry was added Ihe need for a lite rary language
understood by all persons ofa certain cultu re, whatever their
origin. An d the origins of JXllential readers were now very
various; Gree k lilerary education was spreading rapidly
through the newly Hc!lenised regions of Asia Minor, Sy ria and
Egypt. The forces Ihal e ncouraged the growth of a k.oini for
e\·eryday needs oflrade or administration also strengthe ned the
tendency to distance poetry from verna.;ular forms of expression
altoget her.

The unp hilusophical 'craftsmanlike' attilude of Callimachus,

to whom no distinct literary theory can be allributt:d, ran
counter 10 some important tendencies of the Hellenistic world.
~'I orc and more educated men were undergoing lraining in

" POIlu; '+l9' ' t·

"O~ sty/, '93 (ALC '''7 )·
 NarrIJliet : Ill/ Htlltnislic Age/rom tiriJlolle II) Ill)rlU( 39
phi lO5Ophy- in Pl a to 'Hense ruh er than in lsocra tes' - a nd be·
comi ng adherents of o ne o r othe r o f the g reat schools. Such
adhe rem:e might - especialJy with Epicureans- in\'ol\<e a rom-
mitm ent bot" to a ""a), of life and to grouJlS of li ke-mi nded
penons. Acoordi n,l: to Ciee ro. 19 a man' s c hoice o f philO5Ophieal
school e",en affect(.d his oratorical slyle. Th e Stoics were 100
much con cern ed wi th dr)' logic, Epi cu reans were (j ui te unsuil-
a ble reading for an ora lor, Ihc Acadcmr and L)'ceum had Ihe
adva nta ge ufmaking their membc~ read Plato ilnd Aristolle,
write~ whose style was good to imit ate. Now th ellc philosophical
sc hools- with the cxceptio n of the ea rl ier a nd more whole-
hearted followe rs of t: picu rus, who had brusqud~' rejccted the
whole traditio nal paid/ill - concerned thelllsch'es, not onl y with
log ic. eth ics a nd ph ysica l science, but wj lh the p ri nciples o f
rhetoric and ])()Clics. h is th us here Ihal we h iwc 10 loo k lOr
d e\'c!0 plllcllt5 in c ritiea l theory, as distinc t from mO\'cmc n tll o f
tasle, in t his pe riod . The al mOSI IOtal loss of the prose litera lure
of Ih e a ge- it loss di rcc:II ~' du e to a subsequent re\'olul ion in
laslc, Ihe class iciz ing 1IIo\"eme11l ofl he Ii rsl cen Iur)' H.C. - ma kes
the sc ilrdl h"rd ; hUI so me faclS are deilr.
Our greal es t los.. is probahly tha I of the lil era ry works of
Aristotle's immediate successor, Thcoplmlstus. lO H is p arI in
th e transrorma lion o f t\ ristOIIe' s theory of d ie!io n illlo Ihc COIll-
mo n 'Ihree -style' Iheory of later .... rilers is uncertain ; but he
cuti, inl y .... To tc o n thi s suhject, as hc did 0 11 Olhe r topi cs o f
rheto ric and 0 11 history. Another ea rl y I'crip" ICtio:, t\ ris lOxe nus
o fTa relll um . .... ml c On music, a nd co n ti nued a line of thought
f.·unil iar from Pla tO a nd from Aristotle's I'olilics, according to
.... hich c ha nges in musica l and lil crarr taste a rc close ly lin ked
wilh I he d edi lie of moral \"a luC$ a nd $OCi,,1 ir)!;ti l Ulio n5. Somc-
wh a t lat er. Nco plOlcm us of Pariu m. f;ull o lls as Ihc alleged
'iOurccofli on.cc's .'l ,S (l«li(o , seems to ha \<e wrilte n a ha ndbook
of poe ti cs .... h ic h IranSlllilt~-d man y of Ih e simpler a nd mo re
faclual pilns of l\ riSlOllt··S tn:il l i~.· wilh an "dl1lixlurc of

.. III.i" , I I11 n.
.. f r~~lllr nl ",rTh"' l'h ...<w, 'nll dic. ion· wcrC<"" lI rcl« t. "Cf)' "" rri . ir. II )·.
t,) A. ~b "'r r . ,, 00). St,· O. R .~~nl"'@:"" . R f: SUPI,I. Vlt . • ~~~-p; F. W, h,li.
f)" St_.I, "" ,1.;" ..,/". ·Rik khl...k·. '~ I If. On
bel"" . Ch op •..,. IX G.
.It.
·th.........)I~ 1"'"'''"]0··......
4" CriliciJm in Antiquity
rhetorical dO(!rine about invention and style. " Bul in the lat~
Hellenistic period, the school evidently declined. Some of the
antiquarian and biographical work which is a sso<:ia u!d wilh it is
of a low level. gossipy and credulous: Salyrus' Lif~ of Euripidrs, a
dialogue in which Eu ripides ' charac ler and acliviti~ are for the
most part inferred from passag~~ in [he plays, is a revealing
example of low-grade popularisa\ion.'l We shou ld remember
that the texts of Aristotle's esoteric worh were al any rate nOI
commonly available or n:ad umillhe finn century B.C.t)
However, (me of the few surviving classics of Greek criticism
~rhaps fits inlo our narrative somewhere here. The Dem-
etrius who is the author of th e t1'f!alise 0" Ityle is certainly not
Demetrius of P haleron, Aristotle's pupil, to whom it is tra-
ditionally atuibmed: it is later than the third-century poet
Sotades ( 189). On the other hand, the Peripatetic co nnec tion
is fairly clear: Aristotl e, Theophrastus and Praxi phanes are
mentioned, and the diso;ussion of th e periodic sentence, as well
as the .cheme offour ba..ie styles with the ir perversions, ,uggQ ts
an indepe ndent elaboration of Aristotle and Theophrastus. Un-
like Dion}'5 ius, 'Longinus' and all the late r rhetoTS, the author
draws particularly heavily on fourth-centu ry writers, including
some who are fairly obscure, and givQ no special place to
Dcm0:5thcnes among the orators. z< The first half of the first
century B. C. perhaps fits the facts best; at an y rate, the book
seems independent of Dionysius, an d yet is sufficiently back-
ward-looking or 'classicising' in tendency to contrast the
'rid icuious' lack ortaSt" in 'present-day orators' with the taste
and su reness of touc h exhibitcG, for "xampl", by Plato. 2J

" Evidence and d;.cu .. ion in C. O . Brink, P,.t-IO_ •• , 9'>"" ':;<"

" Ed . G. Arrigh~ni ('96. ). t·ot Sat~TU" place in 'he h;",ory of Ih~
bi~ .... ph;c:ol ..... di.;on. _ now M. R . Lclkowitz GRBS.., (1979) 1117 r
" How far ' hey . hen be<:am. comlnonly kno"'n ;" , ..,)' doubtful. Know_
IMge of Ari"OIle in ,,·ri ..... "f the Roman p<riod, if we nc1ude I'",r... ional
philO5Ol'h"rs, i. u,ually confined, it would Ottm, t" the Dialogurs and '"
m ootiy indirect a«ju.inlance wi.h 'he woro On na.ura! history .
14 St. esp<cially ,~o fr., '50 (hostile to O. Iht ""Ii" , lat.r the univtrully
~ckno,,·ledg.d m;utt'l'iece ), ~6S·
" .87·
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4' Criliri$m in AlIliquiry
vc r-sc, as in his fa muus H)'I'''' /0 ~rus, to convey philusoph i<:at
tca ching, adapting the mytho logical d etail of the god wielding
Ih e thund erbolt w expr ..""', alm ost without concea lm ent , the
protounrl doctrine of th e universal crea live fire. [n their d es ire
bolh 10 mainta in lhe tradidon of reading the old poets, 'Illd \0
u.;e poetry as a propa edcuti c for philosoph y, the Swics nalUra ll y
inclined to favo ur allegorical interpretations. Man y la tcr
allegoriS:ltions o f Home r, both moral and scie ntific, are o f
Stoic or igin. SI rabo, in a passage o f ob viousl y Stoic colouri ng,Jl
argues for the fac t ual basis o f Ho mer's geog raph y ag ainst th e
astrono m e r a nd poet Erato sthe nes, who t reated POCtl"y as
'a musemen t' , and thoug ht y Oll could as soon identify th e
scenes of Odysse us' wa nderi n~ a s 'find th e cobbler who
stitc hed up the b ag of the wind s' , The Stoics the refore expectoo
poetry to have a moral or fac tual significa nce - in Posidonius'
d efi nil ionll it i nvol\'oo 'imi ta t ion of th i ngs di vine and human' ,
in o lher word s Ih e 3l;\ivil i(.'S of all th e rationa l beings in the
un,,'cl'S<' a nd , p"c, ,,m,,hl y, rcganl cd ven ifi Ollion a nd e uph -
on y as means to this end, Acco rding to Ariston of Ch ios, as
rep rese nted b )' I'hi lod emus, a poem mig ht be good in content ,
h ut had in 'l;ompositio n' (,ulllh"i5) o r viec \'CtO" , d efici ency in
cill,,:r heing enough to co nd emn the whole! ' 'Il,is suggcs ts a
sharp dislin<'lion o f limn a nd conte nt , like Pla lO'S dislinl;lion
betwee n 'what is said ' a nd ' how it is said ' , Form would he
judged by th e ear, contelll by reason. But il is no t at all certain
that I his was the un; veTS.11 Stoic v iew. BOIh Ariston hi msdf and ,
bIer, Cra les of ;\hllos att ached g reat im porta nce 10 e upho ny.
Moreovc r, Sto ic Ihrori es oflanguage emphasised th e imilative
" 1" .1'"9 (ALC 300 ff.).
» Diog. LtcTl. 7.60 ( ~ .'H, I::dd stci n_Kidd): 'A f><>"m (po;;"'_), a. Posi·
donim 5a}" in hi. I nt roduct ion "on dictitm" (b>is ), i•• I"ateri al <)t' rll )·th",i_
cal dic tion, with oma",<»' (bid' !"", <xccroing the bou nd. '" p.-....c (/0
/~K"'id.. ) ; " rhyth mical" , . , i" ror .. ampl~, " 0 mighty earl h and heaven or
Z<", " :\ ~,,;, is ~ .i~llific.llt ";;""', em",,"cing an imitation or thing>
di" inc a lld human' . Th i, p" .... gc ha. wn muc h di>cu...,.!; see ~ , g , C. 0 ,
llri nk, l/"rI,a ". (''''Iry, ('t(!l'8fmU"" , 6;,. (The difficult;'" arc .,,,;.,"'. A. it
.. and" (i) Po;idoniuo apparent l}' CJ<tcnd. the a rca or poe try to cOnr non_
",e"ic"l rhlt!" ni • • l pro;e ; (ii ) he gi,'" no exam ple or ' rhythm' but <m)y
"ne or m<tre. W e m a y either (i) ddet~ '0 1' rhy,h ",ic. l', or (li1 .uppoM: an
o",i",io" i ll the tcd , gi";ng Ih. ~ ~aml "" . )
., p/t;/O<1,,,,., jiM>- dit GtJirhlt, Fiilljl" H.,k, ed , C. J .n",n ( t9~3) , 3' If,
 Na n-alit't: Iht Hdltn;SI;, Agt/,Qm IIriSlolit 10 Horau 43

relationship between won:h an d th e things Ihe)' were inventt"d

10 repre~nl. It would seem to follo w that, in a good poem,
verh a l li>nn must he appTOl'ria\(; to eont ent , and the j udgment
whether this is so is one which ca nnot he ell tirdy depend ent on
the irrat iona! c ri te ria of se nse. But how far an y in dividua I Stoic
thco risL\ wenl in produeing a theory of Ihis killd is quile
uncertain.
Qur difficu lties over thi s are bound up with the problems
raised by Philodem us' book 0'1fiMlIIS, of whidl extensive frag -
ment s survive.:l<I Philodcmus, born in Gadara in Sy ri a, was a
pupil of the Epicurean Zeno, and him sdf eam e to It al y in lhe
seve nties of the first century 1\.(;. He lived in lhe household of L .
Calpurnius I'iso, the consul of 58, and co nt inued [0 tea ch and
intlUCllee th e Roman int elligentsia do wn 10 h is d eat h in lh.::
thirties. ,\,-Ian\" of his hooks were found a l Herculanllm; the
decipherment and illlupn:lation of th em has l>ccn a prc-
()("ell p3tion of sc hola rs since Ih e carll' ninctf'Ctllh ccntury. On
porm;, Book v. like ",an y Epicurca n Ir(>atiscs. ro ntains a
greal deal of polemic aga inst oppon ents, mos tl y IInl"ir, but
(o mpuralivdy litt le pos ili",,, dor. t rin~. There a re, howe\'er,
point. of grea t interes t. Ph il odemus rt>jects ;lny expectation
that poetry shou ld have a mo ral or faclUal CO nle nt , 3nd any
allegori sa tion des igned to produce this result. For him , it wo ul d
appear, it is not possibk for a poem to be bOlh good in Ihought
and bad in com position; thc two go logether. Nor call composi-
tion be judged on irra lional cri teria. In lcrpreta lion of th is IcxI
;" difficult ; we ca n perhap" only say, in very general terms. Ihal
I'hilodcmu s held thil t " poem should Ix:ju dged as a whole, a nd
nOI Oil I wo se p" ral Cco unts o f form a lid ,·omen! ; ,,,,d I h is mH kes
a sharp contrast wil h criti c.\ of other schools. It happen s tha t
I'h ilodcmus was him self a pOCI . H is urh"nc un.! humo rous epi-
grams arc in a notkea h ly simple slyle - certain ly if we co mpare
Ihe", with th e exuberan ce of hi" fell ow G ad a rene, ""deage r
- and it is lemptin g 10 sec in lh is " rcn eclion o f hi. tlK..., r)' ,
[I is'lII intriguin g lhoug h l th a t Vi rgil and hi s friends moved
in th e circl es around I'hilodelll us, even if we cannO I possibly
'" Grulx· '9:1 n. g;v<> a ,,"""""y "f II,,· ma ;" IX';""; I"" wo,k 0" PI,;t, ~
d<lllu' prot<c<I •. aud much of ",ha, i, .aitl h<r< lIIu>l he regarded a, pm.
,.;,;"'",<1.
44 Criticism in Allliquiry
know what influence such instruction had. It is prudent to re-
call th at Horace, who sometimes called him'!Clf an Epicurean,
presents in the , Irs /!rHI/ica an orthodox Peripatetic sys tem,
drawing (we are told ) un that !amc Neoptolcmus of Parium
whom Philodcmus treat~d as a spt:cially vulnerable and in -
compete n t opponent.

Philodemus, in es tabli shing himself in haly among R oman

patrons and pupi ls, was following a tradition established for
mure than a c"mury. Rome had become not only the political,
hUl1hc lite rary centre of the Gree k_spea king world. We must
go back to see how this had come about.
The finn development of Latin poctry took plact in the laiC
tbird and early second centuries, a lill!c after the time of
Callimachus and his <:ontem poraries, but sti ll in the great
A1c" "ndri;t" age of..:iencc an d .cholarship.•'rom the lime of
E\lnius, at least, the metre and linguistic habi ts of Latin poetry
were formed on Greek models, These models - Ho mer, the
tragedians and the poets of New Comedy- were known and
studied in the form in which Hellenistic sc holarship presented
them. There was Ihns no pre-scholarly epoch in Latin litera-
ture, as there had been in Greek. Criticism went .ide by side
with crea tion from the slart, and it was a scholarly criticism, in-
\'olving close attention to linguistic and forma l oorrectncss.
Crates of Ma llus, the Stoic thoorist and grammarian, visited
Rome , as an ambassador fmm K ing Attalus of Pergamum, in
1&).Jl He was forced to stay longer than he meant because he
broke his leg in a drain; he lectured , it seems, to audiences who
appreciated his scholarship. Crates was an allegorist - he ap_
pears to have ~en intcreSied in the allegorical interpretation
oCthe Shield of ,\chi11 es as the koomoo l6-and it may be that the
serious and philosophical tone of h is teaching appealed to
Roman gravity. Certainly, his pupil Panactius, a generation
laler, won great '''ccess and inHuen ee primaril y by hi, mnral
'" Suct<lni", D. ,m",,,,.I;'u , -~,
"'The . hidd of Achill<> ,,'as a naturat , ubject for allegory : Suffit""
' 55 If,
 J,'a nali"c Iht Hdltnislic Age fro m Aristo llt to lJoraee 45
teaching. 8U1 CrdtcS will havc found grammatical and schol-
arl)· interests already flourishing. The f>OCts Livius and Enni us,
bo th bilingudl, had interpre ted nOl only the G re.:k poetS hUl
their own Latin compositions. Od,n early grammalici revi<;ed
and commented on Naeviu); and Ennius the mselves. A tradi-
tion of d ose lin ks betwee n poets and schola rs was esta blished ,
and was always to be ~n important feature in the history of
Latin liu;ra lure. AI a latr,!" period, Cawllus and the cQteriu of
fashio na ble poets in th e late Rc public had elose linb with
gram matici. T heir allusive and diflkuh poems dema nd ed inter-
pre tatio n ; the poet co uld h~rd l y ma ke his way without the
s..: holar. A hostile niti..: wrote of Val erius Caw- himself a pOCt
- as 'the La tin Sirell, whu alun..: both reads poets an d makes
them·." C inn a's Sm)·ma, a noto riOliS piece of perfectionist
elaboration, was ~nnot ated by L. Crassici us, hi s I'roprmptirOiI
by Aug u,lus' fr~-.;d man, th.; Palati ne Iihr~rian Hyginus.
Parthcnius of Nicaea, a Greek wh o had reached Ital y as a
prisoner of war in the seventies, was an influence o n the
generation uf Cornelius Gallus and Virgil. ... H is colleuio n of
10ve-slOri~"S fo r the usc of poets survives : th ey arc leamed,
roma ntic, somet i messcnsa t ion~l, usu~lly b~sed on locallcgcnds
Of folk-tales. Also connected with Gallus-~nd incidentally
with Cicero·s friend Alti<;us. whosc frc"dman II<; was - is Q .
Caecilius Epiro ta, the firs t grammaticlI' to give public lecwres
On Virgil..l\I An e\"e nt , perha ps, of so me signifi ca nce: it ~ h ows
how scholarly c:riti<::ism operated in ma king new po<:try known
and understood, and it opens the long association be twee n
scholarship and the natio nal poet of imperial Rome wh ich
dominated La lin J>O<"ieal niti ei,m in later periods.
But th is esse nt ia ll y Alexandrian tr adi tion of scholars and
po<:ts in close ,o/nits is nOt the o nly ""mifestati on of Rom an
literary st udy in this period. The grc'lI polymath M. T crc ntills
Varro'" had, it seems, no such links. He fo ll owed many paths
of H ellenistic Ic~rning. and adap1ed Ihem 10 L~li n use ,
"Su~'on;", IN ~'"m""'I;NJ " .
,. g.. • . ,...... ),,1. £. H ubh"rd . P'.""I;,,:,. '0. L J . P. Bo"ch... C. C.""H., C.II",·.
("fiG). 74' w. v. Ct"u"". (.RBS S ( ,<j6~1 ,s, If.
.. Su<'on;us IN l,.mmalid, ,6 .
.. ENI"I,,,,, lI.rdl 9 ( ,g6o>j, "Varron· , cnn,~in; COSd)"' on ,·ar;"", ,;d.. of
Varm·, act; ,·;t)". A hricfacwunt;n G ru1><:. ,60 If.
 Crilicism in Antiquity

following in the footsteps of his tea cher, the first great Latin
philologist, L Aelius Stilo." Stoic lin gui stic theory was applied
to Latin Greek st ylistic discriminations to the classical poets of
early Rom e. Varro wrote li ve\ of poets and discussed genres. He
did this not only in his learned works blll in his sa tires. Though
we have o nl y small fragme nts to go on, it is d ear that , like his
predecessor Lu cilius a nd his successors Horace and Persius, he
rega rded literary comm cnt as a na tural part of thc sa tirist's
field. But whereas both Lucilius- wh o criticised the omate
tra gic d ic tio n of Accius a nd perhaps in clin ed to simpler, morc
Atti c tastcs'l-a nd Horace, who seems to have fo und Va rro's
placid accepta nce of the old poets un crit ica l and unhelpful,
took up di ltin et poi n!! of view in the litera,)' contruve rsies of
th eir time, Va rro see ms outsid e them : idiosy ncra ti c, old-
fashio ned , a ma n oflearning and humour, not a n adhere nt of
a ny p" ny.
The use of satire is sig nific,ml. Thi~ WlL! a genre in whic h the
Rom a ns rightl y helieved th ey ow~cl linle clirtttl y 10 G reek
models. It was the form in whi ch Horace, the poet-crit ic, chose
10 set out his authorit a tive refl ections un th e sta te of li terature
and th e a pplication of theory to practice. And we can perha ps
now see, in the light of the history we have ske tched , what it
was th a t he inhe rit ed. On th e Greek sid e, th e background of th e
AT, potlica was principall y a n Aristo teli a n legacy. This i.~ the
o rigin of Ho ra ce's interes t in the history a nd develo pme nt of
traged y- althuugh his th l"(),)' was nOt the sa me as Aristotle's
a nd St"eIllS based on different ev id e nce a bo ut 'sa tyric' d rama. 11
is also th e o~igin of hi. trea tm e nt uf th e lo nn a! fcalUl"e\ of a
pl" y, and of cha racter a nd la nguage. But he re again, as we have
alread y observed , there is a diverge nce: Horace has no interes t
in plo t-construc ti on, ' neccssit y and probabilit y' , suspense or
surprise. There was also, of co urse, an Al exand rian clement in
hi, emphasis on perfectio n in tedltliq uo:. U nliko: Va rro, Horace
was not mm:h interes ted in earl y Latin litc ratu ro:, a nd tho ught
its popula rit y mistaken. H e certainly learned much from the
a! tit ud es OfCaIUJlu S, CaJvus and their fri ends; bu t he combined
.. C;<c'" B,"I,," '05 ' SUC lo n iuo I" R'."''''.liei, ~ .
., G rube 1:.9: E . H . W ann illgloll . R,..".i., of Old Loli. '" (Loeb roo of
tragmOIl" of ]."cil;" 'I. p. ,,·i. wi, h m<:T<nc<$.
 )P.ana/it't: Ihr Hrl/t llislic Agt from Aris/(}Ilr /() HM(la <17
{heir i ",isle nu:: on triOlism,lUsh ip wi I h a degr<:e of serio usnes,
and co mmillllen( to publ ic moralily whit:h they ",ould have
found at variance wilh Iheir whole oUl look. Th e , Irs p<Jrliw
rel)rcseilts a hala nce helween Rome and Grec..:e. Calli mar.hcan
perfeclionism and concern with the mor,d duty ofthc poel.

5
1I:lc,mwhile, Greek rhetoric had eSlablished itself as a part of
Ro man education. though not without opposition, As late as
92 B.C., the rhetol'S were condem ned by the e<; nsor.; as cor rupters
of you lh." Roman pu hli,; mcn rrefl ucm cd rl"'lorical <e hoo ls in
Rhodes. A!h~ IIS "nil Asia 10 gai n skill s they wen: dcnied al
home; yet h)' Ciceru's tillie, nOllong after the prohihition of92,
it was possible 10 "<;q uir(> a very full rI"'lori",,[ cducalion Wil h.
0111 going a"'<t)'. T his is how Cicero himsclClca rned." His own
youthful textbook on 'i',,"Clllio n', pn:sumably inlended 10
supply an .;ducational need. shows thai lhe basis of the ~ubj(Xt
W,lS held to he the doct rine of Sla,\fis (La!. ,la/us). thaI is to sa)'
the c1assifi{:atiotl of the types of i.lsue likely to hc im'olnd in
forensic taSeS. 4 ! This theory was as~o<: iat ed .;s]x-ciaJl y with
He rmagoras of T emnos. whose w, 'rk seems to h,we been in-
flu enced by Stoic logi<:,,] lll<:lhotls. "" li U1 Cicero docs nOI confine
himsclf to Ihese tcdlllkalities: his preface, insisting o n dIe
c"' ilising fu nctions of rhetoric ,m<i its ~u hordination to moral
prin<:iples, has lirung I'hilo'Wl' hical o""noJl(;s.
T he olher LHin rh ,·.ori~nl tn·a.'5'· of Ihis 1K'1;..d is tilt" Ad
Htmmium ,·: This is more comp rehcnsi"c in scope : in panicu lar,
i1 deals with Ihe lOpie whie h is most ob"iously com mon 10
or;llOry and literature ill ge n.;ral, rumely Slyle. The aUl hor in-
vents his own examples of the Ill f..:.: slyles- thr, grand, the
middle and th" plai n (gral.'is, mnlioq;,.. allnlllalajiguw) - and "I'
lhe fnulls l!onl arise frorn ,,,,skilled nllcrnpl' 10 achic \"(: d'em -
., Sue ,,,"im [), ,k".,ib~J ,.
.. B'oIM' :l0~- l'> .
•, 5.:< helow. Chap'~c \' III 3 .
,r'"ffI :1
.. f) . l.lanh ..... J... ( '9.,;81 ;II If.. ,-"" Ir.: ,,,,d H""'"1'''''' rmmifd'
T"ri,"."i~ " F,al!"'",r~1,,,1), ) .
., U . Caplan', I"""h"di,ion;" "''' "nil' goocl in i,!)O,lf. hu, i, in man)" ,,'al"
lh~ m,,,' u,.full.>t·ginn.r, book for 'h~ ,'Oldy ofallcic.n' rh,·'orie.
,8 Criticism ill Antiquity

turgid, flabhy :md thin writing (sujJIa/a, di$S(J/ula, exilisfiguTa ),

Crudt" as they are, these exam ples give us a ckarer pictuft'" of
what was actually in1~ndro by th.: common lcrm~ of ~ty lis ti ..
des<:ription than we call otherwise o btain." Caricature gives at
any nut'" a son of undenaanding.
Cicero's later theoretical works aTe nOl school textbooks, but
aduh, Oflt"11 highly personal, discU'l.~ ions , and highl y wrought
(if hasty ) literary compositions. Th ey are among uur main
sour<:es for many rhe torical and critical themes.
The earliest- De ora/oTt of 55 B.c. - is also Ihe longest and
fullest. Th e key ooncept in this elaoorate dialogue is that of the
'pe rfect Orawr', educated in philosophy and the liberal arts,
and the antithesis of the vulgaris ora/or of ordinary practice,
whose s ucccs.~ rests on talent , dilig en ce, imitation and some
knowled ge of rhetorical techniques. Cicero himself, i" his
earliest great speech . Pro Ro>no AmerillO, clearly contrasts him-
self in this way with the hack prosecutor, Erucius. In De ora/Ofe,
both in hi~ Ow" pe r5()n. and in lh~ ~pe<::chcs of C"u.• u~ and
Antonius, Cicero, now at the heigh t of his own oratorical
caree r, sketc hes a very personal and individual view of the
whok subjN": t. EIOl"ulio occupies a good deal of Book Ill: and
the treatment is broad e nough to indude a number of topics
outside Ihe range of earlier handbooks - ithos and fHJthos,
humour, prose-rh r lhm.
The two lalcr wo rks - Brutus and Orator- show Cicero in-
volved in a cnntmvcrsy which has wide_reaching, though un_
certain, implications." Some mid-cent ury spea kers, notably
C. Licinius Calvu., the friend of Call1llus, saw the ideal of
·AlIic' oratory in the plain style ufLysias and H ypc rid es. This is
a point uf view which i. associa ted with Caecilius of Cakactc,
whom ·Longinus· criticises for his excessive admiration of
Lysias; but it is not dear from what .uurce th e idea came to a
.. Puticularl), amu,in~ M< t . 15 (frigid manner) and t.16 (trivial man_
"",,) .
.. A gt><>d introduction to 'hi$ topic_. i.~ _ to th~ problems of ' A,ianism '
and · ... ttici. m' , i. R. G. "'W!tin', nOt< On Quintili.n to . lo.161f. Wilam ...
wit. d ....'lic "<a"".,,, (II",,,,, 35 ( ,!)OO) 1 -5~ ) i, reprinted in R. Stark,
Hh".';'8. '" i, A. Dihle', 'Anatogi~ und ,\tli,i, muo' (H",,,,, 85 ( 19~7 )
'7<>-"05) . See also A. Dihle, "Der Beginn d", At1ilismu,,, An/iA, ond AI>t.d-
16.d ~3 ( , !ln 1 1 &1- 71' lind T Gd""r in En,,,'it~l if.,tll ' S (1979). 1 ![
 N 6"6Ii,"'- tnt Htlltnisti( Agt jTDm A,is/Oll, to /lo,au 49

group of' Ro man o rators in th e laur, r yea rs o r the Repuhli c.

\Vhat they did was consc ious ly to rejec t th e fullness ofst}'le in
which Cicero's o wn main stre ngt h I"y, T his is obviously ';Qme-
thing like the rejec tion by th e poets of th e same gClleration of
the looser St n!(:lUre o f carlier writing - a nd ind.:~:d !IOmr,thing
likc C"lIi",acilu£' carlier polemic """i,,£t atl Cm p'£ to rcvivc
Homaic epic. Now in poetry, pole mics uf this ~ind produ ced
no clear reaclion unl ess Lucrelius' deliberale choice or
a rch aic. cven pre.Cieeronian tec hniqu es should be so regarded
- fi)r Ih.: idell thaI I he Craflsmanship of IIO/:try sho uld be po;rk..: t
commanded na lural acceptance. Once the c harge of impcrfec·
tion was mad e against a panicul a r fashion. il was \'Cry difli cu h
10 answer. I ndeed. it was perha ps o nly an swera ble i" the term s
in ",hirh ·l .(lnginus· answcr; ie hv obsrrving that grc;lt )l;.·nius
ClI n be pardoned a lew Ilmlts a nd il i~ h.:lter to he a ge niu~ th a n
a n impeccahle medi oc rity. liut o ratory wa s qu ite difrerem . It
was a praclical an , and ils excelJelll:e co uld on ly be j udged by
ils success. Antim achu s. the con noisse urs' poet, migh t be salis-
fi L-d with an audience of on~' , if (ha 10m: was I'la to: but o ra tors
cannot go o n ",i(holl( a n audiC llce. 50 ~ow success ",ilh a udio
e nces. C icero rca"ona bly maintains. belo ng» n<)lto tI,,: dcli r,a (c
Att icists, bUI to those who had th e power 10 mo,'e a nd to
command. H e tdls an old Itory to make the poine ll A mu rd er
h"d been commiued in " remOte p<lH o f I t" ly; suspicion rested
em some me mhers o f a company of publi{ani , Sr,i l'io'~ frie nd,
C . Ladiu" "n orator in (h e plai n style. was eng"g~"<I 10 defend
th em . T he consuls (it is 138 n. c.) twic!: delayed judgment.
Laelius ad viscd his elien t to (ry a difrerent adw)(att:, Galba.
Galha too k up the t:as~:, studied il for" d ay , and "ppcart-d in
.-:oun in a highly exr.i ted SHHC, accompanied hy his !lCc rela ri ~'S,
",ho looked as if they had 1:1<:en hadly beaten up. He pleaded the
~aSt: c motiOllaliy, ami tin; pubiiUlni gO( ofr.
Th!: prec ise rel a tio nship bct"'een th e co ntroversy in which
Cicero is here engagcd and somcwha( similar ~on fnm tat iom of
(aste a mong the G reeks must, however, l:I<: judg('d problema tic.
Cen ain state ment, may be made "bout it with somecollfid ent:e,
but the picture as a whole remains vague, ( I ) Both Caecilills
and Dio nysius elearly associated the s tyJ ~ they regarded as
"H'~'"-' '9',
,·0 Criticism in A'lIi'luilj'
corrupt wilh 'Asiat ic ' or ator y, ",hkh they rep re<enled "-, Ih e
work ofh alt~ Grt"e ks of impure tastes an d imperftCI knowledge
ofthe language. (z ) For C icero, On the other ha nd, the Asialicum
g~'lUs is rather Ihe kind - or k ind~- of writing pra ctised by
OT>UOT'l of the S(:hool~ of A sia . 11 is not nece$.la riiy a ll bad. }-' or
some of these people. indeed , he has modified praise: Hierocl es
a nd ~'I enccl es of Ala banda are ul Asia/ieo in gllltTllalldabiftSY
(3) Now Ca [vus a nd h is friends clea rl )' d isapprov~xI of Cicero;
ind eed lhey seem to have used th e le rm ' A,ialk' orhis stylc,H
(4 ) IVloroo\,r,r, Dion ys ius of H aiic<lrnasslls, in the preface \0 Df
(mliqu ;s oralOriiJus wh id, set.> oul his positio n on these malters,
both a ((riblUed I he bad fcal u res of H dlen isti c pros<: to •Asiat ics'
and assigned the im p rovement in taste which he felt he "'as wit-
nessing to certain leading men a mo ng the R<)rnan governing
classes. We do not know who he means.: but Ihe ciTde of
Calvus and the oratory of Messa na , Tibullus' patron and the
transla lOT of tI yperides, nat urally come to mi nd. s.I I t is interes t-
i ng a Iso tha t ' Longinus'. who oppose.; C'~1eei l iu.\ " nd hi.~ id<>]" try
of Lysias, appears at the same time to rehabilita te Cicero.!!
T his COntroversy be tween a 'fuller' and a 'purer' ideal of
oratorical sty le was relevant both to Greek and to Latin writing .
In deed , thue ha. been mu ch disp ute as to whether its origins
are G reek o r La tin. Hut it is, I think , importa nt to I"ememhel"
that it is quite distinc t from the pecu liarly Greek phenomenon
o f Ii ngu isl ic At licism . 'rhi, was the rcjection of certain features
ofl he COmmOn lilua ry language oft!'e Hellenistic age in favour
of a closer imilation of dassical Attic, both in vocabulary and
in syntax. In Dionysius, this inclination is only beginning; il
reached its full dCI'elo pmenl much later. in Ih e second ce n-
wry ,\.11.
T hil movemen t, which aimed al th e establi shme nt of a 'pure' ,
timcles.~ Greek which co uld withstand change a nd devdoJ">-
ment, only incidentall y to uches the c hoice in taste between the
'grand ' ami th,: 'simple' , the overwhelm ing and the delicate.

" B",III, :!.~.

" Qu;n,;l; " " I 'l , "'. '~.
"" f ", M...,alia. iC10 Q ui",. '" .' 0." . 10-'_" 3: H. ~lalc"va ,;, Or.w" ..
" .,LUn . . '"+
R...."""'"' Hot",,"I •. no. 1;6.
. gmu,
 Nanaliu(: Iltt Hd/(Ilislic tlgtfrQI/I A riSI~II! /Q H QfaU 51
Th r corrl'C t reproduct io n of classical \'ocabulary and gr.lm,
malica] usage is a nCCCS$a ry hIli not lu fl i"iem eomlil ion of
lh", kind of 'correctness' an d 'purity ' demanded by ' Aui<;isl'
taste. The Gree k linguisti c moveme nt, however, did han~ some
Latin a nalogues later 011, in the second century .... v .. Ihoug h the
La tin .;tu<ltion {as Horllee s<lw } ~ waS 'Iu it e differe" I. T here
Wtre a rc haist s wh o 101l0 wed SaIiUSI , gramma rians ",ho tried 10
fix lorms a nd usages 0 11 dI e basis of the o lde r authors. If
Ca ~"ia r', f), aI/alogia {as is oflen thoughl} is "n answer to
Cicero's mo re carefree al1i(Ude to Ih(' basic vinue o f I.alinilas,"
"'e have an exam ple of g rammatical theo ry allied !O a move-
ment in taste ; lh is is some lhi ng we cannot pa rallel o n lhe
C reek sid e. BU llhe illlcr<lctio n belween Creek and Lati n litera-
ture an d be lween theory and movcmcnts OftaSle in lhe age o f"
Cice ro is slill ve ry imperfectly und er<;l()(x l ; <lnd a somewhat
confusing pict ure is probab ly the hest that ~an Of had.
T here is, however, a no th er feature of Cicero's 8 rulus which is
ea.ly to grasp, and <;h:Hrly important. T his i.< the amo unt of"
personal niti<;i.lm of indiv idual o ralOrs which it <;onta ins. It
ma y well be lhat here is so met hing pecu li a rl}' Roma n. The
whole man maners - his personali ty, his career, as well as his
stylc. Cicero talks of Ora tof'!l as pcrso" ,; it is " " (Ural to <.:(m l r,,-It
his melhod '" ith lhe more scholastic" uitudt: o f Diorlysi us, who
describes th e fCa lu rt:s nOI uf PI,uo btl! of PI'l1o's di clion (It."is),
and comes almost 10 personify this.'" But Roman persons are
i mrona nl in t hem se[vcs : thei r WTSUS !/Quorum, t he exact tla \<;s of
their activi lics, their actual rchl liOrl.\ hi ps, all milHcr, We see
thi s in lhe dialogue- rurm itselr: Plato is "ilfcless of time and
place, Cice ro places his fin itiou., <;ollvcrsat ions al precis" hi,_
lorical mOlm:"t •. Nor d id thi s <:oncnn with biograph ical
accuracy and rou nded pOrtraiture ecas<: with Ih.; <: xtinclion or
the R epu blic: the cider Seneca's , ke lch of I'mcius Latro'9 has
the ~a m" 'lualily, Ta6tu.,' Dialog,,,' shows Ihe sa"' e precise
conc.ern with dramat ic dale .

.. Thi. ~ the hUTdcn of the' Lcllcr 10 AugU\ IU !" ( E~;,lIti ~ . I).

"s". /J,.'al." 3 , ~8-9: 'hul., 'l 5"l- 3; Surlon;u, loti", s6.
,.. Of ''''''IlSIMnt 5-7. Ad I',,,,,{><,.,,, '-4 (ALC 1"9 f. ) .
,. Co.,,",,''';''', pr. '3 If
 C II APTE R FOuR

Narrative: the
Roman Empire

,
TII ~: ~tablishment of the principate and the floweri ng of
Augustan poetry mark a break in the conditions of Roman
literary life. Where the re was previously only the patronage of
the nobility, there is now also the magnet of a cou rt. \Vhere
there was nationa l oonfusion and despair, there is a new ~nse
of direction and purpose. The arril'al of D ionysius of
H alicarnassus in Rome around 30 B.C. happens to coincide whh
thr establ ishment of thi, new ord .. r.
We may of course be exaggerating Dionysius' real import-
ance, but the accident of time has made him the one c ritic and
theorist of the age whom we can fairly say we know.' H is tastes,
his friends, even the course of his literary development are not
entirely hidden. He worked in Rome a t leasllill the publication
of his history of early Rome, or a large pari of it, in 7 B.C. : this
was the work he regarded as his chief claim to fame, his critical
work being ra ther the outcome of teaching. We have already
had ca u~ to draw attention to the very important program-
matic preface 10 his boo k On ancim/ orators, in which he pro-
claimed th e restoration of a genuine 'p hilosophic' rhetoric ,
under the beneficent lead of distinguished Romans. This book
~ IS out to describe the qualities of the classical orators and, in
particu lar, 'what should be accepted or rejected in each'; they
arc studied as models for imitation. Since D ionysius promises a
similar boo k on historians, it is clear that he regards these also
, !\a, g~nnal ~£cou n' ; s. F. Bonn~T. /)io.y,iMU! lIa/i<~"", ,,,,, ('939).
 Nanath.,: the Roman Empi" 53
as possible modds. I n his !rea(i~" 0" imitation, a r.~irly ,>arly
work, 01" whic h extensive fragments survive, he extends the
range even furthe r, including poets and phi losop hers! HU( (h is
does not necessarily mean that he regards h imsc1feither as ad-
vising writers ot her than orators and historians, or as thin king
of oratory as itself now a schol astic act ivi ty, centred on the in_
creasingly popular practice of declamation and on the cp idcic-
tic modr,. H r, does however ta ke a view of his tas k which mah-s
it different from tha! of the ordinary rhetor. H e ta kes the basic
exen:;s!:' and all the (heory of in vent iem for granted, and con-
celHrates vel)' heavily on stylc. He calls the subject politiki
philQJophia, J a p hrase that recalls !socrates. And he is extremel y
interested in problems of authemicity, de\'ising and carrying
OU! sc hola rlr i nq ui ries in! o the dates and aU( ho rship of speec hes,
and criticising his predecessors in this field.'
Oiony.ius comes doser to modern ideas of a litCO'ary critic
than any ea rlier writer. He exc els in dose observation and the
analysis of 5t ylis tic efleets. His eri lieal \'oea bulary, largely meta-
phorical , is extensive and mU<.:h of it unpa ralleled before h im.
His peculia r gift~ a re ]""'( displayed in hi~ mQ:St origi"al, and
least rhetor ical, work, On thf arrallgtmwl oj words. This is a sHidy
of the kind s of word·ordcr conducive to part ic ular kinds of
litnary c!T<:~t - harshncss, smoot!",es.~, or any gradation b~·
(we("n. Dion ys ius rejects any att("mpt to determine word-order
by gen("ral logical or gram mat ical consi derat ions, a nd bases h is
d iscussion on an analogy with building: we have to cons ider
how the unit s of ou r cons( fllCI ion, words, clauses and sen (cn ces,
an: best fitted together to give a 'beautiful" and 'pleasing'
e!Tec!. His examples include poetry as well as prose; indeed,
some of his most tdling discussions are of Homer, Sappho and
Simon id"". M uch of w},:1t h~ .a~~ concern. lhe sou nd. of
language, and the way in which they tall be trc~led as Illusica ll y
expressive. Some of his poims seem sensible: it Inakes sense to
say thaI a pr("ponderance of short words makes for slowness and
roughness bL"Cause of the pau<cs in pron unc iat ion between

, Thi< tx...,k " ... Q"i",;ti,,,', ma in "'ur<c in 'he Greek """,io", ofhi " u"..cy
.of.u,Io"... to Ix i",i,at<d, 1<>. 1 (A t.C 360 Ir.) .
• A.I .•'al. I'"f. ~ (AI.C 305j .
• See I><:I,,\<\ Chap'er XI I, for hi, methO<l in lJius"k",·.
 C,ilicilm in IInliqu iry
them. But much seems uncom'incing, even allowing for our
difficulty in matching what he says with th,., phenomena h,.,
d05c,ribes, of which we ca n only have a ve ry imperfC<:t grasp.
T hus, in his famous analysis of Horner's description of th e roc.k
of Sisyphus,S hesecs dearly that the spe,.,d is changed in a lineor
two from the slow tempo where Sisyphus pushes the stone up,
10 the rapid rat tling of its downwilnl ilccdcration; but his idea
that the di(fereJH;C is duc largely to the g reater number of
monosyllables in the first part neglocts altogether the metriCill
consideration that the line beginning
autisltptitalpdomk!kulindtto ...
ha.~ three s ucces.~ive trochaic caesu rae. Again, the idea that
'contracted' grammatical forms arc appropriate to disparage.
ment or to 'small' things generally, while 'expanded' forms a1l1-
p1if~' the sense, is a singularly naiv,., variant of the basic fallacy
in ancient doctrines of litera ry appropriateness, namel y the
de "';, ,,<1 lh;ot . loIg' I h ;"g; . h..." I<1 tx: cxprc,"",d in cO" "c"pondingly
',., ~
" g WOTll8.
Dionysius is .....~nt i alJy a teacher, and he is a good on,.,. His
pupils werc lucky, and their taste was sensibl y developed. He
has obvious faults: we sec much that is mechanical in his
stylistic doctrine , and he works with no '-cry cunsistent thoory
of the principles of lite rary judgment. Hut his moral cmphas<:s
arc refreshingly subdued ; and his attent ion to detail and open
ac knowledgment of the importance oflrained taste even when
il cannot render a reason , are positive and all ractivc features.
He is not unworthy of the age of Virgil and Horace.
,
Some <:on nL"(:tian be twecn Dianysiu" and Gaecilius ofCale",;te
i~ established by tbe forme r's reference to hi~ 'very dear"
Caecilius as sharing the view that Demosthencs imitated the
thuught and argumentation of Thu~ydidl:s .6 C"eciJius is also
tilt" profNSNJ opponeut of ' Lon gin lls'. But the da le of On luli-
limil)' remains U!l("ertai,,: !b",~ is nothing in the practice of
, /J, ",,,,,,.,i/i.,,, '~'I><>'~m 20 (.1/£ :135 )•
• Ad Pomp".'" 3_20 _ Cae~il i u. fr. l;,!:l Ofentoch.
 .\imalil'r : Iht Roman f:mpi" 55
anc, em polemic to pn;d u(it;" sha rp am",k o n an amhor some
ccnw ri<.:S old, and ,h<.: lrad i,io nal a1\rilm(ioll to th.; Ihird-
century Long inus. Ih e pupil of Plolinus and chief ll1in i~tcr of
Qu<.:cn Zenobia a t Pa lmyra, Gltlnut be ruk.:1 o ut o n (hesc
groltllds alone.' T he beSI reason for fltling it o m , a nd assc ning
(ha t the ,,·ork l..clongs (as is gene rally he ld ) 10 Ihe firSl cent ury
A.I.> . and not the third , is rather Ihe 'lamem fo r frentom· in (he
dos ing c hal't (;r, " 'hi eh has ,",~ry mueh th e a ir of cenain fir:sl-
C('"n( u '·y specu la l ions 011 th c mora I alld lil crary consc'] uenc(;s o r
repla c.ing repu hlica n hy mo na rc hi cal goyr, rn m<':lIt. T he Wlt/ -
lIIllliis opillio that it is a wo rk of the first century, somewhere
bClweCIl the age of Dioll)"sius and tha; of Plin y and T acitus, re-
mai ns I he mo,t reasonahle view. Para lids wi, h 1'lill).3 arc indeed
partku[arly dos.~: yet then; is really nothing in the l)O()k wh ich
necessita tes a da lc [,It tor than the first dccades of dIe Chris tian
era . I, ike ])ionysius, the autho r presupposes a ge nera l com-
petem;e ill rlu:toric, and audrt:>scs hi rTlsdf 10 (he problems of the
ora lO,. who wrilcs for 1)()llcril y. Like Diony, ius agaill, hc d ra ws
eXlcnsi'·cly on r oe try fo r hi s illustralions. :'\'Iore<),·cr, he tOO is
concerned wi th a ROllla n a ltd ien,·e: Ii ke C;'ccil i us - and un like
I he more modest r[u tarc h" he is pr!'pared 10 discu!\.1 th O' mcrilS
of C ko;ro. T[ w work is lcrta ill[}, po km ic;a[: C"eci [i us 'ld In ired ,
exees-lin;l)" in ' Lo ng inu l· · ,jew, the pure Atti c ,·i rlues of
Lp ias: ;'( lh e same lil11" he despised Plato, whom Ollr illllhor
adlll ires grca t [)'. Th is opposit ion to a \'kw of] ilerar), excel[ence
which ·Longinus· regards not as a "ahd aherna(iYe to hi s own
bill as a COl11pletelv fal se trail, leading to some thi ng 1)()l h lech-
nieally and morally inferior. is SCI out in the form o f a SCI o f
.uk." for producing a certain lo ne of writing, IWpS9S or ·suh-
[imit r". T hi.; lOne is nOt thought of as cntirdy "omtitutcu br
,'crhal fca t ures. It itl\·oh'cs al"" choier of su hj<:c\ ami espec iall y
a high Iel'eI of emo tion. T he polemic against Caecilius wneen -
Irates on his bilurr '0 di,<cuss emOlion in Ihis cOIllH:o ion al all;
hut · Longinu~' doc~ nOI himsdf ~uccced in giving a dear a,,_
c.... unt of til{" ,.dalion ....r .'motion (0 olh er l~Clors in good wril ing.
, A r~cc", .dl"<>C~'c "r •• Io;,,(.ec,,' ur)' cl.'c ;, G. \\" . \\" ;t!;"",". Ch.Rt, 40'
/)",/,., ('978). [ 7 ~ .';, t,u, h,· ad.-""",,, no n.,,,· ">"gu mo", .
• [SI'C"r;at!~ 11";.10 f:pis/ 92G (Ate 429) .
• f),,,,,,,,~nv' :1.
 Criticism ill tllItiquilj
His liking for Plato in fact leads him to try to embrace under the
one head ofhups(J$ both an emotionally intense rhetoric, like that
of DClllosthenC1!, and a more ornau~ and diffuse kind, rep-
resented by those pans or
Pl a to which the school of Dionysius
most disliked - the elaborate imagery characteristic of Laws and
TimatUJ. I t is in keeping with hi s admiration for Plato that
' Longinu.' adopts a strong ly moral stance: only 'greaUlt"5S of
mind' can ensu re 'greatneM' in wrhing.
'Longinus' alludes to othe r books he has wrinen, not nOw
extant: one on Xenophon, two on the arrangement of words. to
To judge from the book we have, th ese must be acco unted a
great loss; no othcr Greek critic has anything like this unknown
author's freshness, cmhusiasm and vigo rous expression.

3
Hut we must return to the historically securer ground of
Aug,,~(all R ome, wilh ils hlJ~y and varied li U<:Iry tile. Thl':
poets continued, as in Hellenistic and Republican timC1!, to
write about them.-..:h-es and their art. Th ey procla imed their
inspiration and special gifts - d reams, vision s, mt"e ti ngs with
the Mus<:, withdrawal into solita ry plaet-s, They modestly as-
serted the Callilllachean principles that conveniently forbade
them to ancmpt ep ic; how far their professed reluctance for
this task is evidence for pressure from above 10 undertake it,
and how far their stylised refusals (TttUJalilll!tf) arc Illerely an
claborau: I,)flll of Hattery ~ uitabl e to the mat!!rial of the
pastoral, lyric or ekgiac poet, arc deba table questions. From
our present point of view, it is sufficient to say ,hat they were
asserting, as was Callimachns, Ihat thcre was va lid J.>OI",ic valne
(0 be found in styk-s and gcnm; which did nO! aim a( traditional
forms of grandeur, but unfail ingly at perfect io n of technique.
Perhaps Horace's ' Pindarodc' should be singlcd out: l1 in show·
ing the inillli table qualit ies of I'indar s art, he reviews the whole
range of h is writing, giving a son of catalogue of thc types o f
Pi ndaric poem; metaphors traditiona l in th is comext- ,h,
1. 44 ,,, ab" a11110U11~'" a "'para,. ,",ork 011 '. motion<'. a sequel (appa.·
colly ) 10 s"Mimiry.
II OJ" .(.0 . AI'P",,,lix. 1'. '!I·' .
 Xarral;1'f: Iht Romall Empirt

great "iver, thc honey_galhC"ing bee - a rc skilfully deployed;

and ",h ile it is diff,,,,,1 t lU recunS l run the,i t ua t iOll presu p poocd
by Ihe poem, it is at ''''I'rate d e,.r Ihat ils ma in fun d iun is th a t
of defend; ng Ho race ' s choke of the form of persona I lyric, and
iL, adaptation to publ i!; themt:'> . In Horace'$ Salirts and
t;pisJ{u, and ",p.'cially .Iw Ars /lOtlifO. sollwlhin.c: lIt orc th,,,,
dcfl:ncc i, allcmpu:d: Ho rae.c 'wes himse lf as a le"t k r oftastc.
guid in g Rome aw"y from undw: rcspect for hcr o1tl literat u re ,
and establishing a literary ideal which combi nes lechnical per-
fection wit h a commit men! to an accep ta b le-but by no means
conve nti onal - moral ~tance. Horace is uniquely a rticulate
a mong a nCiel1( poe ts in s t a lin~ the pri'l("iplcs of hi., life'. work ;
his oft.:n mi.~ udger! mastnpicce, Ih", A,s, i. no \'.:rsi lied treat ise,
bu t an urbanc, and characlcri'licalh' unda.ta ted, confc!;sion
of faith.
T he princcps and h is friends were intima ..;l), con nected with
the litcra ry world. Politics and leiters wcre (he common inter_
eSIS of Ihe men who governed - as Ihey h"d heen in Cicero',
time. T he cynical mighl say tltalli terature was a n ex tension of
poli ties. What we know of Augustus' own lite ra ry tastes sug-
gests that Ihey were con venient ly in Ihc middl.: of thc road:
AttlQtty'S 'Asiani.lt\l' was 'madn.,;SS', the arrh"io; tendcncle'l of
Pollio 0 " T il:>erius no less to be despised . Yet Ivl accena~, "'ho
had \'l:ry dilfnent {alleS, remaim:d a fri.:nd .
Ca(Q~ib(l ('misgu i<J.:d ness' ) i$ a kr,y It:rm. Augustu. con traSts
c(1co,-~li with (lnliquarii" !l.i3 cr.cnas is {h" Hry typc of {he
(Il(o~d~> , with his affected voca hulary ,md weird word_ord er;
so it was doubly pointed whe n Agrippa (if indeed it was he)
aHacked Maeeena.' pro{"ge, Virg il, as ' inventor of a new
'(1(o~ilia ' - not an obvious pe rversion of the gra nd Or lhe simple
strk, 1mt " suhtle cvil, till; st r"im;rI usc of o rdinary words ,
hard ly no{iccd hy thc ""rclc'!s readerY T hc te rm i" lik.: all
words of abusc , ill-defmed: h ut its moral ovc rt on.;s can t.c
clearly heard.

" Suetuni". A"g"'I~' 86 ; un " ...~iljQ in general. ><, II. D. J<><el)'n, PaJlt" W
I•• Umf'/>'>lu.l,. St",in~' ii ('979), 67- ' 42: IV. Gorler in Em"li,., If.,dl 2~
( t179)' '76-2))
"Donatu,' I'ila V"Ct/jj H (Appendix. p . •88 ).
 Criticism in Antiquiry

4
w~ saw thill Cicero, espec ially in the Bru/us, wrote about public
men anti link ed th ei r oratorical perfo rma nce with th eir whole
personality in a way which see ms characteristicall y RQman . In
the ne~ t generation, the relationship Oct ween ora tori<;011 skill
and t he active lifeof a ffail'S t...,cam e les$ dircrt a nd Illore com-
pll:x . This was partly th e ~su lt ofth.. political changes. Despit e
Augu stus' pf"<)fessions. the re was no lo nger a rts pub/ita as
Cicero understood the lerm. It was muc h h."!S useful to have
rhetorical skill s to deploy in the pUl'Suit of politiCHI influence.
So. inst ead of the portraits of advoca tc_ politi,;ians which we
find in Ihe Bru/us, we have the rcwrds of Ihe declaimers stt
d own in the elder Seneca's collectio n of am/rOtfUilll and
mIlJorill€. These were nOt , in general, people of grea t public
standin g, though some were successfu l in the co urts , and some,
like Ovid. were figures of not e in the lilerary lilt orlhe pe riod.
The ir fame was due to their skill in th e im agi"ary legal plead.
ings a ll d political cou nscllings which wer~ the co mmon ad-
vanced exercises of a rhetorica l edu,:ation. T hough th ese exer-
ci.\~s had a lready a lo ng history, it was in th e secoml half of the
lirst u;ntury II.C. that th ey Occame, as it a ppea rs, a major
intellectual intercst of all ed ucated public. In the sh rewd,
gossi py criticism of the eldl:r Se neca. we ha ve the entree into
th is world. If we arc to believe him , it was only accident that
prevented him from coming from ('Alrd uoa to Rome in t im~
to hear Cicero, in the laSt rea r of hi s life, 'declaim' w;lh the
consul;;. of -13 D.C., H irti us and Pansa. But he hea rd man y
others, rememOcred it all vividly, a nd reco rd ed it lor the
oc ll efi t of hi~ di ~t ;ngui shed sons- o ne a prov incial govenor, an-
ot her the fa the r of the poe t Lucan, a third the greallilerary and
politica l genius of the Neronian age. T h rough them and their
contem poraries th e traditions of th e d eclaimers can he see n
influ encing the whole courst: o flirst-cent ury lit era ture. I n what
ways, and ho w profoundly, arc mailers of deLmte. Such ex'~r _
cises naturall y encouraged c~rtai n qua lities at the ~xpen>e of
oth ers: verba l point, memora ble 5tn/tIIliat, elcga nt dcscript ions
a nd character indicatillll~ . ingenio us interpretations of situa-
tions which had been de\'ised for their paradoxical poten tial i.
 .Narrali,-e: Iht Roma" Empirt 59
ties. T he whole thing was a game plared wit houttheeomtra;n ts
of real life, and so without the need fo r any serious judgment of
argument Or personalities. Its unrealit y was ofte n castigated,
no tably in Petronius' S"9·ri(0". ,. Its influence is undoubtedly to
bt· secn in much Latin historical wri ting of Ihc Empire, and
proba bly in Greek as well. But therc is no clear connection, as
is often sugg,;sted, hctween this form ofexcrcisc and the spccial
leature;; of 'silver' Latin prose ,tyle: IXlCtic vocabulary, cx-
ccssive l.'Qrialio, short rather t han long scntell ccs. 1f t he spread o r
poetic vocabulary into prose ha s any 'h~lo,ical origin, it is to he
sough I rathcr in the pracI ice of cnwmiu m, thc~is and ccphrasis,
all of whid, ~came Slandard preliminary excrcises. VurialiQin
syntax, on the other hand, has its roots in Hellenisticand Roman
cndcavOllrs to find a hernalivcs 10 Ihe period ic m,lI1 ner imposed
by isocrat t."S and Cicero, which d':lllandcd greal control and
precision, and cOllld ne,'cr he qlli te safe from the risk of dullneu.
In ,IllY ca.'l(; , declamation survil'ed its lirst-century critics;
lalcr examples, especially the Grcck ones, ;Irc often more digni -
ficd and !;Oher, more acceptable perhaps to tcac her a"u parent.
And il had , it would seem, some im p<)rtance for literary thcOl"}'.
It was a form that rC<:fuired a certain degree "fimagination, a
certain se nse o f char<lctcr; and we ha,'c seen Ihat at least onc
rhetor of the impnial "ge was moved to formulaIc somethi ng
like a g~neral theory of lit era.}" judgmcnt simpl y by the
practica I need to cr it icis(" Ihes~ exerrises. II

5
Se neca, 'the philosoplll:r". in o ne o f hi , [eller", provides what
Eduard Norden rt'gardcd as th e most important tOlllcml)()rary
docume n t on the hi.,tory or La tin prose in Ihe first cen!lIry.16 I t
is not dircctcu against the declaimers : perhaps he could not he
quil e as faloe as Ihat 10 his father's passion. He takes up a
positioll which is both /\ ugusta" allu philoso[lh ical. Lik e
Augustu;;, he sees the archaists and the innovalors as ali ke
"I'clro,,'u. '-4 (AI.C 36, ) ; ct: Q"i", . '.'0 (AU: 37' ) : T"". 1);41. 35
(Af.e ~ 5~) .
"Abo"" Ch.pler I 4.
,. t"pi,l. "4 (AI.C 36~ tf) ; K Norden, A"I'~< K"",If""'", 308.
 Ghticism in Anliqui!J
'corrupters' of natural speech; like Pla to, he view~ style as a
reA~..,tion of moral character-talif oralio qualif vila. His prime
example is Maecenas, whose affected composition and involved
image ry arc supposed \0 mirror his effeminate manners and
disregard for the decencies of public life. From this, Seneca pro-
ceeds \0 generali~ : rejection of normality, in language as in
dress, buildings and food, is a manifestation of luxuri~, that
d isease of afll uence which cla.""ical moralists tended to ma ke the
cause of all evil. This 'luxury' is a .social phenomenon, which
can affect no! on ly individuals but whole generations. It takes
various forms: common to th em all is the search for novelty.
Archaic patina, poetic colouring, absolute cunventionality are
all false aims. But a d istinction must Ix: drawn Ix: l w~n the
initiator ora fashion, whose innovation is due to his desire to Ix:
conspicuous, and Ihe followers, whose foibles a re signs of the
style orthe age , and not of thcirown moral weakness. There arc
thus historical observations in Seneca's accou nt - he illustrat~"5
h i' point from Sail,,", and hi. imitators- bu t the burden or th e
argument is mora l ; indeed the whole literary content of the
letter serves as a prelude to the sermon on cupidity with which
it concludes. The life of letters is of interest primarily as an
analogy to the moral life.
Seneca, with his epigrammatic amI often hyperbolical style,
himself owes a great deal to the declaimers. H is plea for sim_
plicity, like his m illionaire's plea for a simple life, is often taken
for hypocrisy. This is unfair. H is profession of writing as a
philosopher, with more thought for content than for words, is
valid up to a point; he makes no more attempt to avoid the
manners of his upbringing and his circle {han he does to exploit
and develop them. Antitheses and rhythmical clausulae are
things it would cost him an effort to a\·oid. H e does not make
the effort.
Quintilian, howe"er, regarded Se!H~ea'l inAucnce on the
young in {he same way as Seneca himsdfregarded the initiators
of vicious fashions. The lost Dr c~usis corruplllttloqutnliiU perhaps
we nt into this further ; we can stil! read the eloquent at!ack in
whic h Quintilian's review of useful authOf1j1l is made to cul-
minate. Quintiliall reaclS against Scneca'~ earCIcSlSllCSS, and
" Quinlilian to . t (A.Le:J80 ff.). See below, Chaplu V [[ I 4.
 ,Narratillt: lilt Roman Empirt 6.
against the sta ccato qualit), of his style. It is something alien to
the classidsing, Ciceronia n mann er which he himself advo-
cnted; for, thoug h by no means a stric t arc haist or any thing
like an 't\ tticist', he looks bac kwards 10 the dignity, a bundance
a nd correctness of Cicero as the classical mod el for the Roman
oral or. In lhe course of making his poi m , he reviews lhe whole
of Greek nnd I.~·llin litera ture, in so fa r as il is useful for imita_
lio n ; heavily dependem on D ionysius for lhe Gree k, he slrikes
OUl on hi s ow n in Lalin . H is neat and somelimes , uggeslive
cha racterisalio ns a re often of inte rest; one or lWO more c"-
le nded critiques- especiall y those of H omcr and " 'lenander-
illustra te clearl y how rh eto rical wa ys of thinking were used in
the eva lual ion of the poet<,
Quintilian's ideal was 10 some e"lent realised in his pupils,
Plin y's POlltg)"ricus demonstrates how a modern ised Cict.ronian-
ism co uld be lhe vehi cle of an enco mium wunh y not onl y of the
empe ror's di gn it y bUl orlhe collS ul who speaks it. Pliny also had
" theore ti cal intcrest, revealed in one Or IwO lener., notnhl y in
hi s n:ply to the frien d who [(mnd bult with so me " f his bolder
metaphors. 'AT he defence rests on the exa mple of De mosthe nes.
T here a re very ~t rik i!\g parallels with 'Lo nginus', both in Ihe
general th oory- 'to he faultless is itself a f.1ult'-and in the
instances chosen to e"emplify it. A rommoll so urce is likcly, a nd
the cl ose link hetween Gree k an d La tin litenor), taste in all tj,is
period is clearly and agreeahly illustrated.
6
Quin til ian and Plin y wen: 'classicists', not in necessarily pre-
fer ring eve rythin g old to everything new, but in believi ng in a
certain dig nil y and purity of laSte, to he found in the o ld
rna<ten, ~nd " i ll aehicvahl ... Th .. y we re not - despite Quint;-
lian '> stri ctures on Seneca- sniou"ly engaged in a quert/lt des
andens tI des molitmes. W e see th is rather in a nother wo rk of the
la te first (or early second ) century, Tacitus' D;alogus lit malor;-
hS.1Q Th is elegant a nd channing book - argua bly sUI:>crior in

"9~6 (,II'(;1~9 ) '

I. Ed. A. G udenl'" ( ,fIg~), \\" . 1'<1<1"S<J1I (,fig:!). So<: al", A. D. Luman
O,al"~';R.,i., 3'" If. , C. D. "' . o..ta in 7"",.;, rd . T. A. I)or~y (1969),
'9-14 ,"d ~'p. R. Symc, Tanio, ii, 67" If.
6,
vivacity and interest lOany Latin dialogue we possess, induding
Ciccro's- rcports two debates, supposed to have taken place
among a group of friends in A.D. 73, a quaru:r or
a century or
more before the probable dale o f writing. One debate o pposes
the poet '$ \"o<;,,(i oll to the urator's. The mh"'r contrasts modern
oratory with olde r forms. The lWO are connected. Maternus,
Ihe orator who chose \0 turn poet, is also the closing speaker in
the se.::o nd debate, advancing the view that oratory is un-
nece5Iia ry in a wclI-<,rdered state; eloquence is 'the nurseling of
licence and Ihe companion of sedi tion ', and when th e slalC is
perfectly health y, it wiil cease to exis!. The perspectives of the
dialogue are social and educational, rather than stylistic, es·
pecially in Ihe more conservative speech of Messalla (241f. ).
It is the ' modern is!' Aper who comes nearest to genu ine criti-
cism; he givcs a hostile review of the Roman 'Attkists', though
he qualifies it by some discerning admiration of parIS of the
work of Calvus and Caelius (2 ' ). It has been held that r-,'Iaternus
represents Tacim, Own view., Ihe di:oJogue i•• aid to be an
apology for turning to history, on the ground Ihal free elo-
quence is now no longer possible. This is unlikely. T acitus bad
a distinguishcd public career, and th e writing of history, to the
Roman way ofthinkillg, was a proper activity for the statesman,
not an escape from the world.

7
It is not until the generation after Pliny and T acitus that we
find strong arehaising fashions in La tin prose. This was the age
ofGellius, Fronto::O and Apuleius. All o fthcsc studied and ad-
mired pre-classical literature; Fronto admired Cato and
Enniu" and thought Cicero not scrupulouseuough in his (.hoke
of wonis. This move ment is a utiu reAeeliou of contemporary
Gruk 'Anicism·. Greek literature had become even more
'purified' and imitative since th e lime of Dionysius, and Greek
critic ism, in the first and second centuries .... 0., was largely
directed towards the analysis of classica l texts with a vi",w to
imitation. CrammalicNs and filt/or collaoorated in presenting a
"' I..,eman. op. cit ., 366 If. Note .. p . .1J JI . C., ..."", 4.3.' - ; (~Xl""C' in
Apl"""di • . p. '89'-
 Nurru/ia: tht RomuN Empirt

dose st udy of \I,e diction, figures and argument of the great

exemplars- in panicul~r Horner and Dcmos thelles, So, while
Lalin criticism was involvcd in di~cussions of contcmporary
Ir('tlds, ils C reek equivalent was much more scho lasti c and
historical. Its perspeclives were governed by Ihe prev~iling
COnCepl ofmimisiI. II is Ihus vcry conservalive. For exampl e,
Dio Chry:,;ostom's analysi.~ of Ihe Phili.KltllI plays or the three
tragcdi;olls is a piece of highly con\'r, nlional wri ling, wilh
hardl y an idea that could nOI hal'e COIllC from Arislophanes. l '
Again, Plutarch's ,mack on Ihe 'malice' of Herodotul l l is
pure! y sdlOla.tic - unless il ohliq ucl r hints a I ,illl ila r 'Illalke' in
the sensational innuendos of wrilers like T acitu s. Both here,
and in hi.1 prd<:n:nce for 1\.'l cna"d c r ol'cr Arislophanes, 1'1,,·
larch la kes a Illoral stand. T hi s is characteristic of him; it
appears even more clearly in his ingen ious educational advice
on ' how young peoplc should read poetry' wilhout doing
themselves mor,,1 ha n n. n
Yet Pima reh was a II apprecia live and well-read st mien t of all
d~s.. ical literature. T he '!;OphiSlS' of the next few gencnllions,
though loud in mutual reproach, ollcr littk Ii)]" our th,;me save
parlisan a\lac ks on cll(Q~;lill. The defence of "rhetot·i(-· against
'philosophy', so I"plumin"u\ly c() ndu<;t~"(ll>y Aristides, is ha.\cd
on no critical pri nciplcs. The criticisms ,)1' pe\"S(JnaJiti,:<; a nd
SI )'Ic, which a re to be found in Philostra IUS' L,u of lite SQphiIlsl'
fall far shO rl Of lhe elder Seneca in vigour and int er~( . Perhaps
the mOSl import"n t II<ln -d,etorical work of th e sc(ond cen tmy
is Luc ian', trealise on wri ling hi<101'Y;" humorous as it is, it
preserves some old doctri ne and sets it Otlt wilh modesl
common sense.
T he profcssioll a I rhetors did be tt er, espccia Ill' in I he dela iled
"n~ Iysi., "r Sly lisl i~ 'I " " Ii, i,'" NOl hing hi, heno n tlCnt pled ,.i"al.,
the suht!.: diSlim;tions wilh ",hid, Hen nogC ll es !;Oughl to de-
fine the I"arious qu" litics which he supposed to he embod ied in
" 0,.,;"" 5~ (M.C 5' 4 tU . S,,· 10·I"w . (:h"I''''r IX :t.
" M. ,alw 8~,\~ ff, F. .• tr;><, it> ArC .'i:H If.: If~"'. by L, f',·."",,, (l "o'b1. I" r,·.,
cri,ical If'" b) ]" ,\ . Ha"." "" IlIm>l."d.", '~i~\.
lJ ,\ I ~n.nder ,n" .'\ri,,,,ph~n,~: .It,,,"Ii. 8V\~ If. 1..1 I.e .'i't, f \. On " ·,,din,.

p<!"Ir) : .I/o/alia "I" I'" I M .C ~'i IU .

.. E.g. './, ,.8, I."' , I.~~.
"Ed. H . HomC)'cr (1!)65 ) ; ",,'me", in AI£ .~:J6 ff.
 Criticism in tinliqu i!),
the pertect ion o f Demos thenes and pres<:nt in varying degrees
in uthe r les.\ balanced and ve ....... tile writt,rs. Tht, application of
rh etorkal theories ofinH:ntion to the critidsm ofpoctkal texts
also yi elds inte rL"$ting material: th e auth ors of th e pse udo-
Dion ys ian treatises Onjigured Jptu/z($ givc a viv id illustratio n of
a certain style of Homeric stud>"2C> But, whether th e point at
iSll ue i~ one of style or of argument, the rhetorical criti c. of thi s
period , true to their kind, arc criti as of means and of d etail , not
of ends and of overall impression, It is dillicuh to find in them
any ki nd ofliterary theory, cven any great diversity of tast<:, It
is a mista ke to eleva te technica l differences into divergences of
critical direc tion, as u~ed at one time to be done with the com-
parativd>' well_documented t,ontroversy between Apollodorus
and Theodor us in th e lime of Augustus, T hL'Odorus, it waS
sometimes said, was a son of proto-Romantic, in revoh againSt
the rigorous form al ism rep rese nted by his oppone n ts. T hi s was
quite fa lse; ApollOC\oru~' vi ew tha t ev,",ry spe,",ch had to have a
fi ,«"d <U uclu re of prologue, na rrat' ''." a <gum en t and epilogu e
may have been link more than a forceful, perhaps exaggcrated,
way of making th e case for rh e tori c as an exaCt 'science' .,l
T he rhetorica l criticism of a ll thi s perioc\ rese mbles mu ch
modern critic ism in deriving from the lecture-room and the
st ud ent' s ·nL-ed s·, not from Ihe ta.lte of the adult <:onnois.seuf.
T here are of course differences: there was no devdoped sense
of h is torica l period, only a vague contras t of old and new;
practical considerations of rh etoric dominat ed techniqu es or
int erpreta ti on; and th e co nsclVatio n of traditional moral
values was <:o nst antly in the ed uca[or'~ eye - indeed, the large
religious and soc ial ch;lllgcs or la tc antiq uit y arc ha rdl y visible
in its archaisi ng pagan literature, Neverth eless, an alogies are
ol)\'ious: the common conce p t o f a general educat ion domin_
ated by the stud )' of inhe rited texts mak es the second-century
scene in some ways un ca nnil y familiar to those brought up in

'" !k[ow, Chapler VI [I ~ ,

"The ·o ld ' vic",' i, ,hat of M. Xhanz. 'Apollodo...,CT und n,Mortt' ·,
l/r""" ~~ ( , fI901. ~6 If. cr, H. M IH ",hmann . T",'",{ . , . '" Sihri]1 """
E,Iu!","~ ( 19'~ ) ' ~l f, : the <lebat . btt,..""n T. a nd A. i, ·,he sam. battl.
which , in , h. field of gr~mtnar, look place bt''''eon the 'apJ>OTt .... of ."na[ogy
and ,\nomo[y, ill juri'prudenu bt,,,"ccn ··S.bini.ni·· and "Proculiani"' ,
 6,
th e shadow of Ihe clas..lical education of the English ninc\ccmh
cI'Il\ury_

That Ihel«; Jau;r ages produ<:crl a hody of criticallheory which

went l>eyond the tacit presupposili,)ns of rhewrs anti gram.
mar;;lIls was due \0 the Tn";"al of philosophical in\Cn:'S1 in
questions of literature and aest hetics. We S;lW that not on ly
I'l alO a nd AriSlo dc, bUI the Hellenistic schools ,,1<0, held
theories of the nature and function of poetry. We have also had
occas ion to notice the links bel wcc" rhetoric and philosophy
fi)rgcd h I' the rI,,;IOT$' adop1 ion oft!'c gcnnalilusif <15 "" exC[-
cise for begin n ers _ This introdu ce<! a wide publ ic to , imple
e thical and even scient ific argu ment. [n Ih e period we are now
cOn.<idcring, 'sophists' and ' philosophers' were often opposed.
but thtre werc distinguished examples of people who combined
hoth ca reas. Plutarch is one: his own talents were pt;rhaps less
suited to the strai ns of sophist ic exh ihitions than he would have
liked, bu t he e\'idel\ tly n:ganls rhdorital skills a~ appropriate
to the young, 10 be SCI as ide inl;"vour of philosophy in graver
ycars.'~ Dio Chrysostom is dearly both philosopher and rhe-
torical vi rtuoso. Seneca himself exemplifies this all-round cul-
ture , reacting ag"in~t his father, it would sr,cm, by a flight illlo
philosophy.Z<> Apulcius comhined sophistic "ntl ph;Josoph ic;,1
writing qu ite happily: " Iaximus ofTyrc hlentl~-d the two in his
pretelllious DialtMis.
Hut the new development in Ihe third and fourth cent uries is
th e "ppe;u" nce of academic pe"sons who were fully professional
on bod) fronts. Longinus, that 'Ii vi ng library and walking
Museum','" was a pupil of the great philosopher Plo(inus.
Porphyry and Syrianus, famous Neoplatonist philosopher<;,
also wrote commelllaries on standard rhetorical lextbooks-
Porphy ry on his (ead".: r :\linucianus, Syrianus on M inucianus'
mOre influenti"l rival Hermogenes. l1 These philosophe .... arc
,. .II.,alia il.'>i"" " .' p"ak,·r h,,, ·"i",..-I "I' hi, ,-Io"'''rK- "rt~r a lon~ in " ..,·,1.
to p!ca.,. 'he I.d, and join iTO thdr ' I'ringtime· .
.. Epi,,_ M.,. ,08. 2~' (;.... 16Iio.J 11.1,·;.", 1;.3- 4.
,. So Lunapiu. Jj,'''- of '''' ",.i/",o"I1"" 1'. 3~2 II-right ( _ 456 lIoi»o,,~de).
" Suda • •_v _ Mi"ucia-n ",; J- Ride>. I'j, J, Po,ployrt, 30. 7' " Syria"", {>1)

Hcrmogon"" IN ibi" <...t. H. lI.al .. ( ,89' )-

 Cnlicum in Anliq~ i!y

thus fully oonversan! ",;th the latcst development!; in rh~toric,

that ;s to say with all the refinementS of slas!i, and ideai. Their
tech ni<J u~ o r writing co m "'entaries on rhetorical te"tt:.ooks re-
sembl es their common philosophical acti vity of commenting at
immense length on the basic textsof l'lato and Ar;stotle. Althe
.ame time, they were concerned to interpre t Plato's attacks on
rhetoric and on poetry, and , so far as they co uld , to justify bo th
th eir philosophical and their literary culture. Plato's o"'n
dialogues also presented a literary problem; and it seems to
have been in connection with this that the namre of the 'unity
in diversity' which a literary work should possess was formu-
hued and dis(uss~-d a"ew. n Finally, the Ncopl"tonisLI, a t least
from the time of Porphy ry onward" loo k..-d wilh awe on ccr-
ta in mysterious poetical lC"li, the theological poem~ of
'Orpheus' and the Chaldaean Orades, and regarded these as
o!1cring evidence for the truth of lh eir religious a nd meta-
physical views. This Illay in part have bccn " rcsrx>nse to lhe
.ucces. of the Hebrew and Christi:m scriptures, ,,1..., m)"~(criou'
storehouses of hidden meanings ; in any case, it had the elfect
of concemrati ng attention o nce again on the pri,u.;iples of
allcgory and on th~ problems of J><Xtic troth.
This is the background 10 the mosl remarkahl e work of
literary thoory which W~ possC"ss from the later ages of the
ancien! worl d : Proclus' commentary (or rather cssay5) on Re-
publir II, HI. an d x. Prod us. the f(reat sy"tenlat iser of the
school, was a pupil of Syrian us. whose views he largely re-
produces, though adding mu ch of hi s own. His system is based
nn N e<lpla tunist metaphysics; its obje<:t is to C$ tahlish accep ta hI",
principles of allegorical inte rpretation , which can save Homer
from Plato's attack. Perhaps the most intt:rt'Sti ng concept is that
of the corrt'Spondencc of di fferent types of poetry wilh the
dille rent kinds oflife of the _",u l. There are thr~"C ofthes<:: one in
which the soul is linked with the gods and lives 'not its own life
but theirs' ; one in which it fun ctions by reason; and one in
'" Nool'laton;,( critici.m h .. """n I"" d;,,:uS$<:d than it Ilwuld h",,, Ix:cn:
..,., J. A. Coult.., TN Lil"ary .lii""...,m, Lcidcn 19]6; A. D. D. Shcl'I"'rd,
S,~Ji" •• ,''' 51~ OlfJ 61h F.jI4Y' of Pro<l~,' Com_.'d'Y •• 1M R'f'>'1tliL ( _1&;»",_
."".10 6, ). 1<111< •. F. W.l.dorfl"_ Di, onlili," V,";!, iibn- P/81o", $Iii ( '~ 7 l .
<"<Kllain' 1OID<"' malai.l. Som.. brichP"";m~n' aT<" 'ran. [a,c-d Ix:low. App<"~dix.
p. ,;8.
 Narralivt.- Ihe Rlfman Empitt

whi ch it opera les wi lh imaginat iOn and irrational sematio n and

is lilk-d with inferio r realiti e~ . T o these corres pond three types
of poetry : the inspired , the did actic and the imagina tive. These
were known not o nl y to Plato, but to Ho rne r, who symbolises
th em by th e figures of Demodocu s, Phernius and Th a myris..u

Proclus' elaborate theories of a ll ego ry look forwa rd to the

1\1 iddle Ages. A III bitious allegory was a leature ofla te a mi<luity :
th e searc h to lind truth in the c1;.ssical te xts was immensely
stimulat ed, first , by the example of the J e wis h and Christi a n
sniptures; and , somewh a t later , by the desire of Christian
scholars to find the lesso ns of th eir religion prefigured in the
Lest of pagan literature. The re-interpn· ta tion of Virgil 's
Fourth Eclogue a.1 a Me'I1> ia nic pnJpl..:cy is the he~t_known in_
stan ce of thi s latter dcvelopmt: n!. ""'
BUI Christian attitud es to li tera ture must rem ain oUll> ide our
prt:sellt scope. All egory existed in th e Ht: brcw as well a., tht:
H ell enic traditions on whi ch Ch ri~ tian c ulture was ground ~-d .
Media eval allegory a ud sy mbolism has thu s 110 si mpl e origin in
pagan a ntiq uit y. Pagan literature e xciled in the pious men of
the earl y Chu rch the same so rt of mixture of j oy an d hor ror
Ihat they, like us, could detecI in I'l a to. Aug ustin e's confess io n
of the ma gic of" Vi rgil is an a niculat c ex Ilression of what man y
mu.n h,, \"e fel t. Jj On the other hand , th e s<;ripture~ the m,;e,,"es
we re disconcertin gly ba rbarous: their ho mel y and conc rete
imagery "lid t he ulldass i ~al k en ur~"S of the tr'mslat ions hoth in
Greek a nd in Latin, seemed 10 prod uce co nntiess bread ,es of
the simples t rul es of decorum . I\ug uslin<: was among those who
fa<.:ed lhis problem al so. The Christian writer. he held, was
"Compt,·, .. "~ ", t,, ; ,) ,, (Fr«" ' h) "f I'I"(.d~,· C" m"'< "' ~0' b)' A . J.
F"' ltlgih< ( , 910) ; partial F.ngli.h Hnion in l'T~mingCT. ~ [0 ff. Sec below,
Appen<lix , p. ' !J!I.
.. Stt lh~ lex" c<lIl«I<..:i in A, K urf.... , Si6),lIi. iuht Wti" .c""c,n. j 9~ ; ~08
if; 340 if.
"C.ift"iMU ', ' 3 . " 0" .. a n<l o ne ma ke ''''0. IwO a nd ''''0 ma k.. rOUT" "''''
, hal~ful inc"n'., i" n ' " m~ . ,,·hit .. ,h. mos' rl.ligh, r"t .p<W,de (Of "a ni,)' "'~.
""·"",1 .. ,, h" "" I"tt ufarmw me<t . ,he b,un ing of Trul, .,,<1 Ihe '!lade of
ere",,, he....,tf:
68 Criticum in Antiquity
always dealing with themes of the highest value, because the
Christian message permeated all things in life. Th ere wall thus
no hie rarchy of themes, such as class ical rhetorica l a nd poetica l
thcory always demanded. But lh~re was a r~ng" or purJl'O""":
teaching , admonishing and arousing emotion were all things
the preacher had \0 do, and they naturally required a range of
styl!:!!." The greatest literature of late antiquity was Christian:
Jerome and Augustin e have no pagan rivals in Latin, the
Cappadocian fath"rs ha,-c much more 10 convey in their elab-
o rate rhetoric than their mast er Libanius ever had. Th e literary
auitudes and theories of the Christians are a fascinating and
far-reaching theme; they owe mu ch to their pagan environ-
me nt , but add mu ch also of their uwn.

)0 Sl Augos(ine Dt <I11(1'i~" ,h.,,,;.,,,,

iv is an imp,malO! l.x, : • • !rae," in
Iran, lalion in Ik nso n and f'mu" r .• 73 If. Sec E. Auerbach , Li'''.'J
l ....l~.X'
. . . , 2S If.
 Cll,\Pl'ER f IVE

The Poet and his Inspiration

,
Or the main topics of dis,;uss ion which can be seen running
through this long and confusing hi story, I isolate first a group
of themes rdating to th e poet and the na ture of what he does.
There i, no douht lhat poeLS in antiquity often spoke of them-
selvcs as inspired or pos<;cssea by a superior power, or that they
often claimed (or <)th crs da im,:d for th em ) the fun c tions and
pri\'ilege~ of the teach cr. In this and the following chapter. r
examine the forms the_e two set' "fclaims took, and the pro b-
lems to which they gav" rise.

It seems to be the expericnce ofpocts in mallY soc tet ies that

composition is something not altogether under the control of
the conscious mind. It appears (0 be ~uddcll , unanticipated
and automatic . T he proces~ is exciting, and it lea\'es behind as
evidence of its reality a sort of 'apport' (if we may use the
language o f p"ychical researc h), a produt:t Or poiemu wh ich may
even se("n no \'el and unfamil iar 10 th~ poe l hinw:lf. H is
thoughts 'wash ova him like a flood' or 'bubble up.. from
Ihe pil ortlte slornach'.' Much the ~am" ma y II(: s'lid ofolhcr
ans, and p"rhaps of high levels of imag inative activily in
spheres o utside the arLl allogelhn. But therr, is something
spec ial aboul the poel: he is, b y tradition and in virtue of hi s
, Th"", d",cril' ,iom ("()m~ ( ~ ) from 'he E, ki",o O'p"ngdix quo,ed b,"
C..\1. Ilo"n, ''t,,,,,,i,,
s".g. 44; (b) from A .•:. Hou,ma n", tecture on 'he
.:"<amc and!\" "'Ure of Pot,r)".
7" Criticism in Anliquiry
skill in words, articulate about these thingll in a wa y that
painten; and musicians are no\; and he is often thought of as
a kin to the prophet who claims \0 communicate God's message
to Man.
This inexplicable and mysterious element in poetical com-
position finds different o::xplana tions in different ages an d
circumstances. \Vh en religious belief is strong, it is of (ou=
regarded as a gift of the gods, vouc hsafed 10 a man of special
merit, or as compensation for a defect like blindness, sometimes
momentary, sometimes the se tded tal ent of a life time. When
belief i. queslionl..! by ratiu"al speculation, the disillusioned
and Ihe sct'p lit:al, wh" nu longer helic\"e in prophecy or direct
divine intervention, naturally seck what th ey regard as more
plausible explanations. Th ey find them in psyc hology or
physiology- lor example, in an excess of hot black bile- and
they treat the claims of th e poets with irony and ridicul e. I t is
ea sy, after all, to mak e fun ofa nution of insp iration which , as
H obl:>eo ob.crv~"<I, tur .... the poet i ... to 'a Bagpipe' , and the
effects of ecstasy are little dilferent, to the sceptica l eye, from
those of some furm uf intox ication.
Both t h ~ altitudes are found in antiquity. T he first, in one
form or anothe r, was the regular language of the early poets
from Homer to '>indar; it was reinterpreted , and g ive n new
religious content, by the Neoplatonists a millennium later. Th e
second, more rationalistic, tendency prevailed in the timeoflhe
Greek en lightenment and in the heyday of Augus tan urbani!)";
the humour with which Pl a to treats the rhapsoclt, Ion and lil(:
sati rica l treatme nt of Democritus in Horacc's A rs arc charac-
teristic evidences of it. l

Th e history uf these ideas l>egins with th e programmatic state-

me nts of tlte ea rly poets. Th e Odyssey is especially explicit.
'A god'. or InO...' specificall)' 'tho:- " ·I usc'. gives Demodocus the
powrr 10 delight wilh song. and yet also blinds him. Phemius is
aUloJidaklDS, 'se lf-taugh". and a !!;od has 'implanted' Itn'phuSl )

, I.... ALe 39 If.; .-i rs ' 95 If. (AU: oH7 ).

 Th, f WI wid his Im/lira lioll 7'
""my war' arsong in his ",ind.' Th ese descriptions denote a
pc rrn,menl gift; Ph emius and Demodocus a rc profess ional
banls. ill whum the poe t, nO dou ht , c n, ate~" fi e tion,,1 modcll<)r
hirmdf. wi th the hono ur ann rf"ward b"rds ought w have. T o
j udge from Ih e co mpliment Od ysse us pays Dem odocus on the
" ccuracy of his aecounl o flhe war of T roy, th e g irt is nOI on ly
onl: of fin e word s bU I o flrU(h a nd know ledge. ' This is nOI sur-
prising. T he poe l oflhe Ili~d a p pe"ls to the M uses' kn owledge
when he in"okes Ihei r aid at Ihe begi nning of the Ca lalog ue of
Ships,5 an d il is know lc.:ige of Ihe paSI and fUlure Ihal Ihe M uscs
give to H cs iod whell Iher inspire him wilh song.· II is inrlecrllh c
p rolog ue of Ihe Throgoll), which giVe> the moSI c.~plicil Sla1e-
"1<,111 in early Greek poetry of Ihe poet"s divine call . T he 1>,'luscs
h01 h 'breathe so ng into' him , il1ld g athn for him - or le t him
ga th e r' - (he branch or b;,),. Apollo 'ssacred Iree, 10 serve as the
wand Ih;\( sy mho li scs his Gllling.
~ow I he II<Jt:I shares I his "fq ni si ti, "I ofk nowkd~e heyond I he
ordinary re,u:h of llIen wit h the malliis o r prophills, the 'lee r o r
spo kC'i man o f til(" gods. Wh en Pindar'l bids Ihe Mu se 'proph,:sy '
("'(min/fO ). ;lIla says Iha l 11<: will l... hn (imp/llllaS. hI' is 110t
simply making a COllLpariso n hetwe<; n twO modt'S of Ihe rela _
lio nship or man wilh the didne. H e is sa ying Ih at th"y are
lea ll y the mml,; 'i nspiralio ll' gives knowledge 10 poe l a nd
prop hel al ike.
The emphasis in these carl y t<::~I.' see ms in fael 10 be on kllOw-
!cdgr" Iha l is 10.lay on conlenl ralh n Ihan 0 11 rorm , iflhis lalc r
di Sli nction may be imported . T hi s is nO I 10 say Ihal be aul y o f
la nguage, mus ical skill <lnd Ihe power 10 move the heart a re
forgolle ll. These arc all im l)l)rtant parts o f Ihe poe t's ,telivi l)",
but il is p rima ril y his superhuman knowir,d ge which come. 10
hi m rrom w i thout.~

'O<l'~'{f 8.6.j. ~' . 31~ If. (For 'hox and <l,her P""~~"".'ec ALe 1 f.).
• OJ,,,,, 8.4/1S n.
, II: ·, . ~H4 n·.·
• TNol ••.J ~ r If. (ALe ·J ).
, The point depend. on 'he reading in 11: d"P,d,4i 'h"';ng g.. ,ho,.,r , or
d"p'di/hoi ' (for him ) to Ra'h~r· .
• Fr. '37 Bow,:. (ALe 4).
• Prof. H . U o)-d .Jonn points out ,,, me ,10., !"",.Homeric epic also;s ;n
general mOre f~c'u~1 ,h~n lIomer. "'" tha t 'he rd a ti"e ·non.fae,ualil y" of
7' Criticism in ATlliquity
Th ere is thus a COlltras! between these f>O':tica ] statements
and Ihe earliest theoretical discus$ion of these mallers that we
possess, namely two passages of Dcrnocritus lO which later
wrilers regarded as of special importance. One oftbes.. passages
reads:
T he tbi ng5 a poet writes, on Ihe One hand (mm), wilh mtlwus;a,mos
,,"d holy spiri t ("itTO~ "".uma ) are all very ht:autiful (kala ).
The other appears to be from a co"text dealing wilh Homer's
language:
Homer, h",·ing OCt" aHolled a na(ure related to lhe divine (pJiusis
th,tU.8UJa), fashioned (tlfk/ilm/o) an adornment (kosmos) of expressions
of all ~ind s .
[n later times, i( was supposed that the first of these passages
meant (hat successfu l poems were only compos~"<i by lu nati cs,
alld Ihal this justified neglect of art. Thus, Horace talks of
Democrit u. 'e"clu d ing sa ne poets from Helicon', a nd C icero
offers as a para phrase the proposition (hat th ere can be no good
poet wit h Oll t illjlalfllllulio allimorum a nd a sort of adjfMu$ j~roris. "
Bm t I,,; pas,age dOC!' not entail this. Dem ocrit us was no at heist.
ElllhouJiaslII &S, 'possession' , will have had a more positive mean-
ing for him (han merefossofsani t y; he will have regarded it , nO
doubt, as susceptible of explaniltion in terms o f his il(omic
physics. ~I oreove r, as Democritus' ethica l idea l was one of
tranquillity , it is unlikely tha t it should havc associated the
production of something he greatly admired with the mOSt ex-
t reme kind of mental dislurbanc~. And the point of th e passage
seems in filct reasonably clea r. Possession by the divine power is
il n,·c",qry. thoU~(ll not a sufficient. condit ion for 'beilutiful'
(tala) poems. T he second pari oflhe sentcnce- whose e"istence
is impl ied by mm. 'on th e one hand', in the extant ext racl-

H om~r i. perhap" an original dc,·clopmcn'. ',he "/"<141•• •pil,n'llmo [ Longin .

6] or the epic tradition .'
,. r Co IB and ~ I (ALe 4. L~na,,, ,.~8 If.). W , K . C. Gu,hrie, Ili,,,,'7 ojG,«t
I'''ilo,.",., ii, 477 n.,. Date un,'crta in; Dcmo<ritu., bon, t. 460 a. c .>;' >aid
to have hcd '0 be 'wer a huoor«l. '
II D, Q10J." ~. I94 ~ th;, illlcrprctatioll i. eVell less cautiously cxprCl!«! in
Dt JitmaJID", ' ,flo - 'no po<t ~.n Ix ~Tt'a! SI'" i"If"".
 The Pw l alld his Impiralioli 73

presumably said that wha t is not tbus inspired is nO! 'beauti ful'.
T he point is, what is deno ted by kala? I II itsel l~ the wo rd migh t
apply w any kind ...fhca u ly <>t. go<>d!H:,s who<e va lu c was "elf·
evide nt and not conditional on conscqU Cll<;eS or ut ility. It
see ms unlikely that it sho uld apply exclusivcly to cOnl ent ; in·
deed it is doubtful whet her De mocr illlS, any more than any
o th el' serious thin ker sin ce Xenophanes, could have regarded
th e mythical and 1110 ral eOll! ell! of the trad itiona l poems as
kala. M uch mo re li kely ther~fore tha I I"" is thinking primarily,
if no t excl usively, of heaut)" of form a nd la ng ua ge.
T lw seco nd fragme nt , desp ite its obscurities, appears to su p·
port thi.\ view. It seems to sta te thilt Homer possesses a perman·
e nt endowment of na ture (phu:;is), which bears somc unspecified
relationship to th c di vine. We havc no clear Cl'idence lo r th e
me,m ing of '''tIJ<.ousa; we do nOt know, for ins ta nce, whether it
is merely a hi gh comp liment , and poss ibly ironical a t that, as
the cognat e /heioJ ("di l'ine' ) so often is, o r sig ni fies a naturc
peculiarly re,:cp ti"e o f atomic emuc n ce~ from the gods. Nor c,,,,
wc say for ce rta in whcther Ho rner's j)Qsst:ss ing suc.h a na turc is
the cause orh;s fashio ning his kosmos of words. If there were not
this gramm ati cal ambiguity, the point would be clear: gra nd
lan.c:uagc. radlt'f tlmn the Ifluh ofwh" l i, \" i.-l. would 11" s"o:n 10
br ,,~sur("(l by thl' ' ~i\"{"n' l'lcTTlc1ll in Hom ..... S m~ kc-up. Si nn : w("
~annot he sure, we muSt a ls" ker. p open the possihility that
there is here no thing but twO d ist inct sta temen ts, o ne all egi ng
H ()m er'~ div;ue nature, the othc r sta ting th"t }«; <:ont ri"ed by
his skill the kos"IQS of words, the tWO together amounting to a
d escription of ",hat makes him a grea t poet. Th is would
amou nt to the commo n la tcr id ea that the union of phuJis ~nd
lu ""i, ars " nd i"gt" ium , is what produces perfection. Ye t in this
(:a.\C also there w,wld bc emphasis on HOll1 cr's naftsma mhip :
he is a u k/on , li ke a bltilder or carpentcr, whose art comists in
putting things toge ther int o Hn urdered a nd beaut ifn I Stru Cl ur~.
T he difficulti es of interpreting Democritus, Otl the ev idence
we have, a n: in,upera ble. But th ere is nne sugge'ti\"<: point to
be added . T he o nly later thinke rs to d iscard the dichotomy o f
form and conten t, I,x;s and {tgQmt1lml, which is taken fo r
pan tcd a I leaSt from PIa 10 onwards, were ct: rt ain Epi<:urt:an s.' l
" Sa ah",·c. Chap'cr III 3. on Phitodcmu •.
74 Crilidsm ill Antiquity
Th ese werc in a sense Dcrnocritus' disciples. Perhaps lIis under-
standing of poetry also "'<IS n01 limited by Ihis prt:vailing
ove r-sim plifica lion.

Plaw' s 10"" is sometimes supposed \0 owe some ideas 10 Demo.

c.ril us. It is 'Ill carly d ialogue, ofa pattern common in I'la1 0's
~hortcr Socratic pieces. SOCT;\\e>; is sh own, cha ract eristically, as
exploding a fa lse claim to knowledge. Here it is the claim of the
rhapsodc ur profOlSion al reciter of Hume r, who is shown 10 dc-
pe nd for his 'art' on 'divine d ispensa tion', Ih~i(l moira. Ifwe an:
lookin g for reason and understanding, Ihis is nothing 10 be
proud o[ Though it is the reciter who is tormally on (rial, the
main poitHS 1hal are made a rc true alsooft he poe t, whu is linked
with the rhapsode by the sa me 'mag netic chain' that link~ h im
also with his inspiring gOod. It wOould seem that , at t hi~ period,
there still hung round the rhapsOodc somcthing Oof,he charac, ...
of the efca tin: poet, at least the po tentiality of original compo'li-
tion. He is certainly a dift"crelll sort of pnson, bot h in capacity
and in status, from the tifth-century tragic actor who merel y
rehcan;cd the part he has learned, the poet uting the teacher
(didaskalos) of the pcrfonnel1. T hoogh ironical in ton e, th e Ion
makes imlJOrta!1l points. A striki ng cOomparison is made be-
tween lyric poets and Corybantic or llio nys iac dancers."
Socrates hne illust rates poetical insp iration by comparing it
with" well-known uu t disco nce rting religious phenomenon,
that of orgiast ic groups, dancing and experienci ng hallu cina-
tions or co nversions when ' possessed '. He asserts the emire d e_
IlCn de nce, not only of lyric poets, whose music makes an
Oobvious point Oof cont a ct with the dancers, but of th e e pic poet
too, on the displa cement of the normal mind b y an invading
god:
A pot:t is ~ liglll tili ng, willged and holy, andcompo'" till
~anl10t
god is in him and his wits Out , a nd his mind nO longer in him.
T h" kind of inspirat ion wh ich Socrates describes in this
" ALI..' 19 II: ~ \';ca;re 11- 5: fl . FI~,har, D" Diolo, ]o~. IIedin ('956).
" S~4A .
 TIlt POtl and his Inspiralion
passage is clearly something which comes unpredictably from
without a nd dOlOS nOt produce any skill ..... hich can be generally
a p plied or ta ug ht to othe rs _ The poet, in thi s arg ument , is a
highl y specialised creature, ca pable of creativity only in one
genre, perhaps capahlc of producing only om: good poem in a
lifetime, 'like Tynni ch us of Chal<:is' ..... ith hi, one lovely paean _
T hi, makLOS poe tical cr<:ativity " trivial in<:id<:m of th e man's
life, ho ..... e\·e r bcautifu[ and enduring the />Oiema it [eaves
behind .
In th e Phatdrus, Plato returned to the theme of poetir ir-
ra tio nalit y, but in a difrerem COnlext and in a hall~ h umorou s,
half-serious manner whi ch is even more d ifficult to assess. T he
lOne of the l'hatdrus is detached , amused, non commilla[ and
provocative; it ranges over man y su bjccts- love, rhet oric, im-
mo rta!it y - and Ix;wi[d cn; by its all u s i ven~ss <IUd soph iSlica tion.
One pa-;s"g'" in pa nic ular tak..,! up th.., the"" : of th.., IQn.
Poctry is among the hlessi ngs tha t corne to u, from god_given
madness (mania ), It comes third in order among these good
th i ngs, lIfter t he gifts o f insp ired prophecy and ritual purifi ca _
tion . T his ' madness of the Muses' sci~cs a 'tender a nd un-
troddcn miud' (haIJalt" ka; aha/Oil ps/ullin ), exci tes it 10 frenzy ,
a nd cd ur.atcs posterity by th e splendour it gi \(;s to th e '(kcds
of lhe ancients' th"t "re the subj~ct o f poetry. Only poetry
",r;tlen under the infl ue nee of th is madn ess comes to successful
frui tion. Sane and sober Itelmi gelS nowhere. T here is clea rly an
echo of" Dcmocritu! here, l! hut th e o\"\:rall me'lIl ing of th e
passage is not wholl y clear. T he contex l is dcc isive for the in ter-
pretatio n, for it shows that the rhetorical need in the speech is
to minimise Ihc evi[s of malliel. Socratcs is cngagcd in showiTlg
that il i, foolish 10 argue Ihal one o ught 10 's ho w [;,\"our' 10 a
p".--son who Jocs not [o\"e one, ra ther than to n"..,'s admitted
[over, on the ground that the non·[ove r is sa ne and the Jover
m"d. This i. <:stablishcd by ex a mples. ! "~ pin;J prophcq' i_~
supcrior to div iTl<Hio n by birds Or other omens. Purifications
and rituals ",hic h seem to render the participants 'mad' arc in
filet wa ys by ",hieh memherll of certain f.1mi[i cs have es<:lIped
hereditary evils. T his is dearly - whatever its exact reference -
" TI,,' f..,.·", "f, I,,· , .." ~,,( r a, (,Ir.,d,. ,·, 4.~" ~ (AI.e 7~,) <t.:-:....I)" , <"><"m l>b ,10",
of [x-m".. r;,,,, fr. ,Il.
 Criticism in A n/iq~i!r

a very forced argumem. Wha t comes next also should be taken

in the same spirit, as a rhetori cal ]Xlint supporting the para-
doxical main proposition, not as something necessarily in ac-
cordance with accepted vi"ws or with any conviction Plato
might himsdf defend in a serious moment. The inspired poet
stands 10 the mere technician as the inspired prophel sland~ 10
the mere augur. But Ihe passage seems to say t..... o things more.
On the one hand , Ihe mind th e Muse invades is 'tender and
untrodden '. The poet is innocem and ignorant ; he is not
necessarily young (th e Gree ks did nO t thin k ofpoelr)" as par_
ticularly a young man·s occupalion ), nor necessarily virtu ous,
but he is impressionable. And he 'puts in order' or 'adorns'
(kosl/lol/J"a)16 the deeds of men of old and so educates (paideuti )
future generations. It is necessary for Ihe argument that this
benefic ial activity sho uld be seen to be the r~ult ofmonia. It is
this that has enabled the poe t to do somethi ng that improves
the moral q uality oflife; th e paidtia intended must be th e hand -
ing down to posteri ty of Ih" exampl"" Sel by grea I men of ol d .
In lat er antiquity, as we sha ll >ce, this passage was takl!t1 as a
serious Defence of POI!try, linking Ihe notion of insp ira tion wit h
that of a didactic purpose. But its origina l intention may be
wholly ironical ; there are, as often in Pl alO, fantastic features
in the argument, which seem to colour th e whol e; and th e
closing words oflhe passage suggesl that the whole paradox is
to be ta ken lightly:
H" .... hu, .... ithuut the 1> \ uses· madness. comes to the door of jX>Clry. in
the hdieflhat he will be an ad.-quate jX>Ct, jfyou please, by art alone,
vanishes unfulfi lled, he and hi5 jX>Ct ry together, th., sane man' .
jX>Ctrr a t the hands of Ihe mad man ·s.
In fact, it is dear that Pl ato had no wi.h, in th is or any other
context , to p rese nt a defence of poetry. He believed it to offer
no road to knowledge; and he entcrtilins th e idea thilt the poet'S
activity involves an uncotllrolJed element, akin 10 ecsta.y or in-
sani ty, simply because it sui ts the general position h e has
taken up.
Aristotle was di fferent. H e held p<">C11)· 10 be a snio us thing,
I. T he range co,·em b)· b",,", and «tated ,,·ord, indlldeo both ·orde" and
·ornament'.
 Th~ 1'0l1 and his f,Hpiraliou ))

a road to understanding as ",dl as to plcasure, in virtue both of

its mimetic ..:hara..:u;r and of its gen<.:rJlity, Mo rcover, his
sciemific inte rests, which were fundamemal to his whole in_
tellectual approach, Jay in medicin e and biology and not, like
Plato's, in mathematics. And his allit ud e 10 religion and my th
was more detached. Plato fought a battle for the mind, in which
irony iwd exaggeratiozl were weapons. Aristo tle sa w the beliefs
and practices of the vulgar either as merely silly or as objects of
scienti fic curiosity.
Only onCe in th~ PIN/in is there any allmion to the po::>SSibili ty
Ihat Ihe poet may be "mad'. The passage i ~ l;unous, and al!>O
puzzling." AriSIOtk i~ giving advi.:e to the pla yw right who i!
al Ihe stage of eo mJ".>08 ing his plol. In doi ng th is, the wri l\:r has
10 im agine the action on Ihe stage : he needs to do this carefully,
o r disaster Tllay 101l0w- as it did for Carcinus, when he failed to
see Ihat the audience would I:J.c aware of Amphiaraus Icaving
the temple. He needs also, apparenl ly, to th ink out the appro-
priate ges tures and movements (sdlimala ). Genui ne emotion,
whet her distress or a nger, is also the mOSI convincing. Given
IWO (X·ople of Ihe same natural taknt, the one who actually
r~"£ls ,mgl"l", or SOme other cmotion, will "Iso "pllt it across'
hene r to others. This idea - originally e mphasised, it wou ld
seem. hy teachers of rhdoric-is here "pplied 10 Ih e relalio n
betwcen the poel ,,,,J the characters who.e Il(t ions and emo-
tions he representS. [fhe pUIS him sdfint o the emOlional , (;lte
appropriate 10 Ih(:rn. he will he "bl~ U) give (I,,: rn th~ right
word s and movements. The passage (as mO"; l oflen tra nslatcd)
contm ues:
T his is .... hy poetry belongs to the naturally talented (.uphui.) Or the
manic (maniAo.); for One of these is malleable (tuplas/OJ ). the other Out
ofl ,; , "';" ,! (,j'J/al;{·6' ) .

Th is rendering impliC!; that AriSlOtlc accepted the insa ne and

unconU"olled as o ne of twO ~5ihle poetical le mperaments.
This is an unwelcome (ond u.l ion. I'l alO, as .n· havc seen, used
Ihis n.)tion only 10 underline Ihe inadequacy of the poetS, and
A ris(otle is cone.Cen ed to make I heir defence. ".-1oreove r. ml1ni/;oJ
alld tks/a/i!;os imply tOlal lack ofrnental control. This is nOt al
" '45.," 27 It:
)' Criticum in Anliq~iry

all what the tragic poelllceds. H e has In en ter inl0 Ihe per$On-
a lil Y of his c haracters, and their circ umstances, ea ch in {Urn,
as he wril C$ th e pan. Thi~ is something dependen t nO doubt on
much natural ability, and it cannot be learned ; bUI il is also de-
pendell l on control and vena lil;!y. E~phuis and tuplas/6$ an:
rig ht descrip tions of what is needed, manikl)s and tkslalikor are
not. We should r,ondude th at those critics who th ink - li ke Ih e
sixteemh-century Castclvclro- thal Ari sto tle must have meant
'the naturall y lalenl",d rathtr ,iuJn the manic ' a re es~ nt ia ll y
righl."
A passage of the Rllttorie'· seems 10 be th e o nl y other place
where Aristot le h imself entertains these ideas. Compound and
extravagant word s, he says, a re appropri ate in st fOllg emOlion ;
'a n evil h eave n-high ' is an expr= ion tha I a really angry ",an
may be pardoned for ma kin g. T his is Ihe sort of si mation in
whic h a spea ker lrics to make hi s audience 'possessed ' (tn-
Ilwujj(1$(1i), and g rand iose or jingling phrases come naturally to
~"'''')t'iia.:ontn a nd '«) occur al so in poc.ry , Cor .hi. '0() i. e~I"ron,
'an inspired thin g' . Not much shou ld be ma de of lhis ; Aristotle
is here using the language of'enthusiasm' in a weakened se nse.
It is in a ny case odd, to modern tasle , Ih a t his example o r'en-
Ihusiastic' language j ustifit~ by emot ion is from the end of
lsocrates ' PanlgpiclI$, a work of pol ish cd prost" whic h la ler laste
understan d ably ad mired for its artistry and fulln ess rat her than
for fo rce Or passion. Our surprise, huw r,\"er, ma y be due to a
r,1i lure of hislori ea l im aginalion: the balancl,~ and noble
rhythms ofGorgian ic Ol nd isoe Talean prose may well have had
a more powerful in<;a ntatory eile ci un contemporaries th an we
can see.
So tilT as Ihe in terpre tatiun of Aristutle i~ con cerned , the
later Peripatelic tex t fo und in p ",h{tmf 30.1 is of no rele\"ance;
blll it has an impowIIlee of its Own. m It lis\.'l the possessors of
excess;",", a nd excessi"dy hOI 'black bile' as ' manic (manikoi),
natura ll y talented (tuphutu), amo rous (t riilikoij and easily
movcd to anger a nd desire ; some al so talk at ive '. Th ere is no

.. Thi. "i~w i, lhal l~ krn b)' ~t i" H ubbard in .~ L(: J J 3 r.

,. 1401t 1 J ff.
M P,. bl,"" 9~~' 3~ ff". Thi, l~~' ha, bot."
,,"ud, di><u.""d : K<, e.g. R.
KlilMns ky <I .1., S.'H'~ DO" .\/,IQ",hoJy, ,II If.
 ;9
reason 10 thin k that the ,nuhor is thin king particula rly of
poetry; the only poet mentioned ill the t;.Hlltx! is one "-'1arakos
urSyracusc "rwhom we arc wldth"l he w"s,ocl",,1\y a hell er
poet 'when he ",,,SOU l of his mind' . 'I'he implication is thallhis
was u n usuill; poets arc not like prophets, who arc 'Olll of thei r
mi nds' whtn I hey arc [oretelling til<; f UlUn:, hu I la JellIed persons
whole c"cc<;S of black bile is normally at least in a "m can Slalc'
in respec t of tempera 1U rc . A great ])()<;l , jik" " gn,,, I philosopher,
is an e x';c!'l iOll,,] be; ng ; but his POWCI"S a rc not ou I orhis cont ro1.

.\

P hilowphicaJ allernpts to give all account uf tht" unc~plaincd

<:ie"'/:111 ill p()I:!ic nC<l(i>"ily were thus often rationalist;,"; Ilw)'
invo ked phy;iologica J o r physic,,1 theori es. But the poets of
COUI'!(; conti nued, throughuut Hclleni,tic and Ro man times,
to rcpeatthei r claim, 10 di,ine impiral io n. II was undcr~lood
Ihal Ihis was nOw largely cun,'cnlion. T he baltic with II",
philmoph<"1"s was ov<!r; l)()<;I S· s{J/J/'ia ",mid no longa prelend In
kn owledge, a nd didactic pu<:lry, in so 1~lr as iI was i mlruel ivc "t
all in i men Iion, was essen tiall ), a v,;n;ific;Hion of knowledge ob-
tained from others. Thac n;mained the comrast between
poetr), ami the lileralure ofreallik, the cemral limn of whic h
was ora lory: poeL'· t''''tasi,~, their li(~,,/;a (e.,-""si<lJ in subject
and in language and Iheir sperial inSlinct i",: ,(;hola l"s hil' .Il ill
SCI I hem apan, and mad ,; the con linui ng usc of I he old symbol-
ism still attraeti,'e and meaningful. :\'Ioreo\"er, Ihe lit e uf Ihe
poel could he seen as exempt from polilieal truubles, a son of
SUl$SUS akin to Ih e philO5Opher·s, but wi th less ex travagant
da ims. 11
T he imagery inherited Irum H es iod and Pin(b. r surv ive<!
tong, and wa.\ much ex ploited, C;lllimaehus meets the ""'l uses,
Ennius dreams of Hom,,,,, poets drink uf holy founta in< and
wander in mountain s and woods. Priest and proph e t, th e M/n
is a man apart. It is indeed convent ion ; but the human eX-
perience, we must suppose, ,:ontinu,:d. PodS wem on rdlceling
in ('OliIUdc: and muld nOt c:xplaill Iheir proces('es, George
Moorc·s advicc, 10 ·dine in and oflen alone', if you ",anI the
"So ~Ia'cm u, in Tac.itu.' Did/OK'" I t-'3lALC 438 ff.) .
80 C,;litism in Antiquity

l\·! usc to visit you , would have rung true to Virgil o r Horace.
It is interesting that the symbol ism comes now to be used in
the service of new literary ideals. It had already scrved a
polemical purpose for Pindar, who derogates opponcms hy
representing them as OH:re 'learners', who cannut prc\'ail
against the 'bini of Zcus'.n For G.'tl1imachus and his Rom an
imitator it Sf: rved another end. Instead of appealing \0 the god
for knowledge or lor the gift of line words, Callimachus ma kes
'\ pollo cou nsel him to avoid magniloquence and the common
path: the gods like a fat beast for sacrifice, but a fme-spun
pocrn"~
Horace i~ perhaps the most instructive of the Hellenistic and
Rom an poetS in whom u> study the new u.'IeS of these symbols.
He is much given \0 them. As a lyric po<: t, he dwdls far from the
common herd, Nymph~ and Satyrs dance amund him in the
woods. I nstead of dying , he will wing his way to heaven, trans-
formed intu a bird. Calliope cumes duwn to visit him; he
wand",.. in holy groves, and his whole life i~ unde r Ih e prOleClion
of the "" lIses. l4 Yct H orace is also a literary crit ic, and on this level
of discourse he treats the idea of inspiratio n with se\·ere irony, if
nOt contempt. [t is he who mOSI expli cit ly intcrprcl5 Democritus
as advocating ma d ness as a qualification for pocl5. When he is
speakingserious[y, Horaceevidcntly regards the 'given element'
in composition - whether in poetry or in rhetoric - as ingmiulII,
a concept not unlike Aristotle's tupkw(j. Good poetry in his vicw
comes from th e com bin ation of th is qnality-it is essentially
inventivcnl~ - with a mastery of the art C ars, i. e. ltc/mi) , But
while native poetic abi lit y, in H orace's crit icism, is stripped of
the trappings of inspiration and seen as a faculty of the reason-
ing mind , its panner, art, is seen as something more than
mechanical skill in words, versification or obedience to genre-
rules. It involves a certain degree of ethical kn owledge and
certain positive mo ral a tti tudes, notably the rejec tion of greed
and shortsight~d selfishness:
Once this ruSt and care for cash has taintnl th" soul, Can we hope ror
poems to be wri n ell that desc".." preserving in cedar oil and keeping
saf" in smooth cypress?"
" OIJ"'pi4'" ~ .88. "S<"<" t.:-tow. App<"ndh. p. 181 .
"OJ" I. " ' .19: ' ,70: 1+ " A" pot/;,. 330 If. (ALC ~88).
 Tht P~tI {wd his Ilispirali~1I 8,
This rationalisi nll ,,"d morHli.,ing transfo rmation of the tra-
ditional s)'mhols of ' inspiration' is not (onfined to poets. It ma),
ue fuund , for oarnplc, in ' Lnnginu~- , though at first sight
things look a lillie diffe re nt. T he frequency with which the
langn,,!:,· of fnlimlisillsmM is u"xl in 011 slIhlimi!>" has <lft.-u I)('('n
noticed. It seems to snit the amhor's powerful, evocati\"e and
st i mnlating way o f 1,,1 king about lilcrat nn;. Somc scholm. h" "c
therefore seen in him an exponcrll of the pos ition supposed to
ha\"e been I hal o f lJemocrilUS, th,l( HII good pOCt ry depend s on
Ihe impu lse from wilhoul.'· BUl this is a misunderslanding. For
one thing. il is of course wrong 10 th ink of ' Long inlls' as
primari Iy concerned ",ilh poel r)' ; hi s su bjecI is emotionall y per-
suasive rhe toric, and whal he says about Ihe ~ts is by way of
illustration. \' ow we have already seen that it was common
rhetori cal teaching -ada p led 10 t I,.. poel's sit u:l\ion by A rillOllc
- thaI tlw he'iI way 10 mo\"c an audi.:nce il 10 enter into the
a pprop riate emo lion yourself and 'rca II)' feel il". T he fee ling of
thc «"dicn~c is d,e end, the feeling of the urator thc meallS.
Thus PIa to ironic" II y compl illle n ts Ihe cpideictic Orators of tl,e
day by making Socrates S;IY Ihal , after hearing them. he is in
a daze, and loses co unt of where he is for twO or three da~'s o n
end, fancying he lila ), be in the Isles of the Blcst. 17 D iollysius
alleges ~imila rly (and perhaps wilh Ihe Mtntxtllus and 10'1 in
mind ) lhM he feels 'possessed' wh en reading DemoSlhenes, and
imagines himselfas in the same stale of mind <L~ initiates in tilt:
orgillsli.: rit es of the Greal ~'Ioth cr or the Cory hllTllt:s. 28 PlatO
was ma kin g fun; lJionysius, it would seem, is serio usl y desrri b-
ing Ihe Slate of mind of a re;lder who respond s to the emotive
elre Cls of e1a ...lical oratory. I n bOlh, I he fa nguage or mlhQusiaSl/lI)S
is used nOI oflhc writer, but ufthe I,,:arer or reader 10 whom the
~pea ker 's passion h as been I ransm i tied. Th is is also I he princip«1
way in which t hi.1 I<mgu«ge is used in ' I.o ngin us' . ,. Thr, sl>ca ker
m"SI feel" genuine emolion, h ut it mu st he such that the
audience will share it. It is Ihis emotion which 'inspires'
,. SO) F. If,h,li, ill a" i"'l"'na", ""ay, ' Orr <Thah<:n •• md d~T ... htich,c
$,;r, PhJlI.~oIid jii, I'. ,,,~ d" M ilkll, '946 . 9- 3~ ( = Y,",,';d uo, lIumdu;/ds,
'97".97- '2<» .
" .11........., •• , "~Y'-<:.
10 {H",., littUfS ~~ .
N Se~ 1.4: 3.2; 8 . • ; 8A: 1~.I ; 36+
speech. ' Longinus' uses the full gamut orthc traditiona l vocahu-
la ry of inspira tion and prophecy: mall ia, p"tuma, mthousiasmi!S
and d stas;,- are c h:nactcr;~ tic t~ r ms. He even uses ;1 in an
addition al a"d pcrh"ps novd way , tu dcsuibe the rchttion he-
tween a writer and hi s classical mod d .-lI> So we have IWO sta ges :
the ex citatiun of the writer's mind by emotio n, and the ;;on-
sequent exci tation of the reader's, whi ch is th e purpoSt: oflhe
who le procedure.
But there is a .:omplie"Iion _ ' 1.•Ollgin\~~' has a further rxpccta-
tion : he requires that the 'emotion' sha ll be not on ly vehement
bnt of a certain mora l qual ity. In fac t emotion in itself, d espite
hi s p<Jlcm ical insi'H:ne'! on it as a n element wmngly overlooked
hy hi s 0ppom,m C,,('cili u•. is nOt in hi. view "b....lutri y e",">H;,,1
tu 'su bli mily', whic h can act ually ex isl withuu til; indced .... me
e mot ions, nota bly pity and fear, are 'low', and so not relatt'd
to 's ublimi ty' at "ll.J' This is why lh e ~rsonali(y of the writ er
is important. He <:al1not be expectcd ei the r to thin k gra nd
'ho u gh ts or 10 gc",:ral<: "nd c x c iu: g rand c rll(>1ion' if he is
ravaged by d.:-;ire for gain or money , or dcaf to the ca lls of
honour a nd posthumous fame. T he righ t atti tude can 10 some
c_~t e nt be developed by training and habit, but only on the
basis ora ccrtain natural endowmcnt.
No on<: would da im that ' Longillus' is ckar of ,"nhigui t}' or
confusio n. But it is ev ide nt enoug h that the gra ndl: ur he is
trying to te,,~h is conceived as th c product ofna tivcendowlllenl
shaped by a moral education which inflllences both intellect
and feel ing ; it issupposed to sweep away all pett), though ts, fix
the mind on large alld nollle issu es, and en<:ourage all sorts o f
gcn<: rous a nd powerful <:motional reactions. So far as thc int<:r-
preta tion of thc 'givcn e!em<:n t' is concerned, Ihis is not SO very
ditlerent from Horace. Neilhl:r the 'gi"en' nOr the 'acq uired ' i~
enough in itself, but perfection comes from thei r comhination.
Both Horace's poet and ' Longinus' , orator, if ther are to have
Ihl: effecl 011 their audiences which the), desire, ha ve to ha",,,
certain qualities of character. They have to be 'good' men, no t
dis"blcd by vice or meanness; and th ey have th en to subject
Ihcir 'nature' to the demands of an ' art' which is far from being
a mcre ,"crbal ttochniqu e. !I.-Iorrovcr, neither the basic ability
"8.~.
 The P~,I and /.;s I~sp;ml;on 83
nor the acquired technique is thought of as something which
migh t exist in a p<:rwnali ty otherwise unhal"n~cd, c~cenlric Or
inadeqnale. T he mad poel a nd Ihe deratlg~d orator are simply
failures.
 CHAPTE R SIX

The Poet as Teacher

,
Til t: REar", obvious !inks b.o:r we",n rhe norion of a poe6 in.p ira_
rion and Ihal of his didactic or socia! function . W", saw thaI in
early times rhe value of the il}spiration was in fact believt'([ to
!ie in the poet'. access to knowledge whic h the gods were willing
10 impart to mankind. We saw a!so thai , in Ih e moralising syn_
Ihesis to b.o: observoo in Horace and 'Longinus', the poet' s
'nature' is ,,"ie ny valuable as a guarantee of the elli"acy and
pe rmanence of his works. No a ncient account of inspiration or
'given element' makes th e expressio n of the poet's individuality
th e important thing. The paiimo. 'left behind' by rh e proce!lS of
pail$is is not the image of a mind, hut a stalement about Ihe
externa! world which wi!! be of use to the rest of us, because it
is so const ructed as to impress or excite our minds.

,
But in what way is the statement meant 10 I:J.e of use ?
When Aristophanes,' at the e nd of the fifth century, make!!
Aeschylus say Ih:n children have teachers to instruc i them,
whik adults have poets, he is formula ting a genera! idea which
wou ld havc been widely accepted nor on ly amo ng his own
audience but by man y people at most periods thJ"()ughout
Greco-Roman antiq uity: n"mdy, Ihat it is the poet's busi ness
10 give iilllruction of some kind-whether in faC IUa1 knowledge
or skin, or simply in thc art of living. But rhe con tras t betw~n
c hildren and adults wou!d nOt have been so univenany obvious.
No t long after Aristophanes' time, in the course of the fo urth
I h ot , IO~~.
 Tkt Potl as T eaCMr 8;
ce ntury, a seco nd ary ed ucat io n in rhetoric and p hi losoph y be·
came common; and the paltern in the later ages of antiquity
was very muc h 10 relegate the teac hing of poetry 10 the earlier
$tages. Fa r from b<.:ing tho; stal'k cduo;a tio nal med ium of th e
adult , it bceam e the staple fare of the c hild. 2 Accordingly, fro m
Plato o nward s, philosophers co nccntTatcd thciT atten tion on
the cflect of poctkal rablc on the you ng and impressio nablc.
Pl ato of eo ul>C, at least in the Rrpuhlic, was deali ng with very
special chi ldren, the future guardians, who have 10 Ix broug ht
up to he su perio r to o rdina ry man kind. In this context. the
mora ls of the actual audiences of real life-i ncl ... ding women ,
c hildren and slaves- an; o~ nOgreat ~o",:cr n . Pl utarc h's trea t ise
On li.<lening 10 poer,", presents a mo re norm al and real istic pieHl reo
He en visages young peop le not ye t ready for philosophy bllt
ca pable of accepting: gene ral ideas whi ch may prepare them
ror it ; due guidance a nd ,elec tion in rea ding poetry are there.
fore what is needed.
In modern times, it is hard ly though t to be the bus iness of
literary criticism a t all to engage in th is kind o f exegesis, or to
draw overt mora l lessons from the fictitious events of poetry.
But implici t in what Plato 'illys is tl\{: proposi tion commonl y e~·
pressed by saying lhat lhe pot:t sho u ld Ix 'comm ; {{ ~-J ' to th e
aimsoflhc 'sociely' in whi ch he livel-or else be exiled from ii ,
Similarly, wh a l Plutarch says implies the rclat~-d assumplion
that the stud y orJiteralure is justi fied onl y as a pHt o f mo ral
educ alion. Both Ih ese v iews ha>"e been much in t,,"em ieth·
ceOlury minds.

Btl! of cou rsc. it was by no means Ih e un iversa l vicw in antiqui ty,

any mon; than il is toda y, tha I poelry should be 'useful".
T here wl"fc al"'a ys I hose whu held Ilta tits e ffeel was "d ~-q ua td y
described ,,5 pit-asurc, an d thal Ih is indeed was quite obvio usly
ils aim. ' POell compose for p lea su re. not for Iruth,' says a filth .
'Sl<al>o ' , ~ ,8 ( ..!I£ 30~ ) appe.rs con5<";om of thi' change. He ol ... n·., that
',he a"ciem, ' b.:lie"cd ' h," "11 age. could be trainro thr<>ugh J>OCtry . H i>lory
and philosoph)" ~pp<arecllater. "w a$ "illtruc. in hi. "ie"', ,hat pottc)· had
• u'e for many adull>. because philosophy was no' accnsihl< [0 lh~m .
• E. ,,,,ct. in tl/£ ~o7 If.
86 Crilimm in Anliqui!J
cciltury lext of sophistic origin.- Now whenever such a ge nera l
statement is mad e, on eit her side, il has to be seen as part of a
polemic. Unless poets claimed truth, this particular selUenee
would not be worth uttering; and what makes the contrary
worth saying is the belief, often enough expr(:SS(:d, Ihal poetry
is a delusion and a source of moral harm. ' Pleasure' and
'utility' or 'truthfulness' thus play the same SOrt of part in
allempls 10 define the purpose of poetry as 'art' and 'endow-
ment' do in attempts 10 describe th e capacity which produces it.
And just as (JT~ and ingmium could be said to 'combin e' to pro_
du(e the perfe<:t n:alisation of poetry, so a combination of
'pleasure' and 'utility' could be regarded as the wise poe!'s aim:
' he who combines the useful wilh the pltasant wins every vote.'!
This compromise, however, settles nothing. I t is true eno ugh in
the literal $erne: it is onen possible to put in something to please
various sections o f the audience, including those who want solid
instruction and not just entertainment. But unless some at -
tempt is made to de«"rihe th., r"l ation~hip "f th e Iwo aim. to
each olher, no useful theorelical point is made. The idea Ihal
(he '",e' comes from the cOntent and the 'pleas ure ' from Ihe
sound of the words is one such attempt; it $eems to have been
whal the Hellenistic thoorist Nooplolemus said of Homer." But
it is ofliule avail, since it is dear that we must judge the inven-
tion of a poem by qualities offanc)", coherence and probabilit)"
which ha\'e nothing to do with its mora l use. Beller perhaps to
say that the intended aim is (he promution ofvinuc, and the
c harm co mes 'by accidcnt' j7 this at least makes your priorities
dear.

The 'didacticist' posi tion is perhaps always th e product of a

situation in which poe try appears 10 need d efen ce. In early
Greece, this happened when the myths which were the subject-
mall erof e pi c carne \0 appear improbable or morally Tep rehen -

• Dis,.i /ol"i (9<' Did,_ Knn. ) '. ,8 and 3. ' 7' Lana'a "4.
' Honce . .-I " {l«IUd 34'"
• Philw""" ibn Ii, Ct/i,hu: Fii~fol 8",~. ed. C. Jen...,n ( '913 ), 33·
, So Ari'lid ... Quinti)ianul ~.6.
 8)
sible. Perhaps all an-funn which is widciy iK<.:cplnl. t\'C II ifi\
is disliked by some and regarded as a vchicle of corruption, doe~
not alln,et ddcn~cs of this kind . Attac ks un the moral d anger
of television , after all , are (om ll1onplac;c; h ut we have nOt yet
got \0 the slagcofsa),i ng that it ough/to he instructive, as I'l alo
said [>IktS ought to !each, or indeed of al1cgorising the my ths
which it p ropagates. Th e ill1l5;Oll is .lilltoo strong. [ n (he fifth
and founh centuries, poe try wa~ alre .. ')y being ali ego ri'ICd ,
wh ile rhetoric, the newer art , cou ld only he allackcd. In la cl,
the practice of relating poetry to ulher human iIClivi(;cs illld
judging it by criteria apl' lic<Lhl c to ac tions !'ega" in Greeec a t
an carl y stage. It is nOi inJc.:d 10 Ix~ lou nd in Homer; the
Stalt; mentS " bon l l)()l:try in the OdJSStJ' ma ke no apology for the
art . Il nt it may ",<:II be prescnt in H,:<;iod. At lea.lt. it is oftcn
held , as we have seen,! that there is a crit icism of heroic ep ic in
the words p ili into the mouth orthe J\l nses in the Thwgol!)' : 'we
know hoI\' to ttll many lies thaI resemble the Iru th, bUI we also
know how to tell trnth whcn we wish.' Even if this interpretation
is wrong. HC';iodie poetry is obviously mn eh more faetnal in
tone than Ho meri c, and thu s appean; more primitive; lVork,
,wd da)'s in d eed is openly didau ie in pnrpose, a Creek cpie ver-
sion of the literat ure of adv ice that had long been cu rren t i" th e
oldcr civ ilisa tions to Ih e cas t of the M ed itcrranea n world. In
later legcnd, Homer 'lIld H ~"Siod were su pposed to havc com-
]lc1ed at tI,,; fun era l game~ of K ing Amph idamas of Cha1cis.
Tlu: a~embl<:d populace walll ed the crown givc n to Homer,
bu t the K ing who presided, th e successor of Am p hidam,.s, pre-
ferred Hesiod, because he encouraged agricu lture and peacc
instead of war and sla ughter. This signifi cant story can be
tracen bad at least to Ihe fou rt h ce n tury II.C. , to the soph ist
Alci d amas; it became dasskaL"
The Iirst person 0 11 record to co ndemn the e pk explicitly 0 11
mora l grollnds wa~ , :u we saw, Xe no p hancs. In his cy~"S,
ncither Ho mer nor Hc.,iod (,an be commended. Ro th a ttributed
theft , adult ':ry and deceit w the gods. Th ey were proof that
• cr. al>uH. CI"'I'1<r II , .
• Lan~'a 1O~ « xtn Ct) : o . c . T. Homer ."" " 7 fT. (<<Implete trxt of
Q,rlaPn<w) ; k<: ""p. G. S. Kir k CQ.H ('9,'><') t i Y If; I::. R. Dodd, (CQ ', ( 19~~ )
,87 r. ; M . L. Wc<t CQ.' 7 ( t~7 ) 43:1 r. and (for later i nAue n <~ on rhotorical
"'riters) Tbe mistiu, Q'.I. 30, with UO .... " e)· and Norman', "Ot<:$.
8B Criticism in Antiquity
m en did ind eed make their gods in th eir own im age . Who then
is the prnisewonh y poct ? Apparently, h" whose aft er-dinn er
so ng shows concern for vinue and the gods, and is not about
battles of Titans, Giant s a nd Centaurs, nor about quarrels
(slasias ) with nO good in them. to Wh ethu this last phrase
allud es 10 political lyricists like Aleacu. or, as seems more
likely, to the strife a nd wrath that a rc the subj ect oflhe Iliad, it
is clear thai Xcnophancs is recomme nding a style of poetry that
uscs th e soc ial opporluniti.:s of perform a nce for moral educa-
nOn.
So it was familiar d oc trine by the firth century that the
traditional subjects of poet ry were immora l. Fa miliar 100 was
th e relat ed observation that poets we re bound to be bad wit-
nesses 10 fa ct, OCUliSt they a imed to entertain. He rodotus ca n
say that Homer knew th e story th a t Helen went to Egypt a nd
nOt to T roy, hut ~ uppressed it in his main na rra tive because it
was not so 'seemly' (lujtrtf!eS ) for e p ic," It was, H erodotus be-
lieved , the . r u e vers ion o f what h"ppcned, becau"" if H den h"d
really bee n at Troy the Trojans wo uld surely ha ve surrend ered
her lo ng before enduring a ten-yea r siege. But what exactly is
mean t by say ing this was not euprtf!eS fo r ep ic? Th e notion of
'see mliness' is both mo ra l and aesthe tic. Jl When Herodotus ex-
plains elsewhtre that a ce rtain Egy ptian religious myth is not
euprepes fo r him to tell, he $CemS w mea n that it is a secre t he
ought not w reveal." But in the passage we a re conside ring , the
lor<:c o rthe word se<: ms mainly aest hetic: ifHdcn had not gon e
to T roy, the war and all its sa<: rifk es wo uld have been abou t
nothing, and so nO lit th eme for hcroi<: ]Xl"'try.

These negative evaluations, mora l and fa<:tual. evokcu a ppr&-

,. X~noph"n .... B' Di<l,· "'",",._ C. M . !k>v..... CP 3~ ( '93R) . ~'13 If.
" Iknxlotu. ~ . ,,6 , Thu th.mc a l... had a long hi,wl)' ; cr. DioChry.,,"nm
0,_ " (T,oid"s )_
" To,,,,,,,,,, (.I".",,,,) ;. an extrem ely importa .. t concept bo,b i.. e.hics ~lId
in cri,ici.m: a da .. ic dill(uSiioo is M . PoIllrnl. 'Top""",,' . ,\'AG 1933 r KI<i~
Sth,iji,. i. '0<)-3')).
u ~ , 47 , The m)'lh in 'lu ..,,,ion i. a c ha racuri" ir '"",,~, d"",.; .... '. lh~ .........
",h y I'i~ ue ",~ritlr"" on ly 10 ,h. Moon and 10 I)ion\~u. on a ~..,.' ain , ...<..ion :
cr, Plu la .... h. {,iJ aruJ O,'i,iJ 8 (M..-. 3~"' 1 .
 Tht /'0<'1 as T((lcher '9
priate defences, Ihe earliest a\\emplS 10 jU<lify tI,,; po<;\ie in-
heri ta nee. One such d efence was 10 rec iIe the \;ivilising achieve-
ments OfpoelS, in cult, law, and thl: arlsof lif,,: we saw Ihis in
Arislophanes and in Horace." Another- to wh ic h we shaH
lurn laler - was to allegorise dIe objectionable stories and
reyeal their supposed inne r mCilnin g .
I'lato knew and rejened hmh these linc~ of d~fc nce. H is dis-
(us.\ ioll of poetry in the Republic f;.lls in(O IWO parts: Book> !I
and trI. whcre thc 001 Iill\· of hi~ re,~"mm l:mlalions is ginn:
and Hoo k x. apparentl)" a lalrr appendix. whieh explains the
I)l;yehological and episte mological princ iples involved, in Ihe
lig ht " rlh e theories concern ing Ihe so ul and Ihc forms which are
expoullded in Ihe ce n I ra I boo ks of I he dialogue.
In Books !I and !It he illustralf'S lhe ki nd~ of wpi c whi ch arc
un:;uita hle. being bOlh "nlme to Ihe real nature of Ihe gods and
uncondueive (0 virtu e. Since God i.1 assu med to he good and
unchanging, stor ies in whid, divine adion appears W he wea k
Or ill_iIllenli<)nr.d mU.l t Ix: lill.<;(. But Pla to docs nOI condenm
Ih ..se nWlh s !;Oldy becaus,· dwy aT(" fal se (37S",): the ,Jt-eh iH
poinl against Ihem is the moral one, for he belieyes Ihey o ug hl
not 10 be disseminated e'·en if they wne lrue. Nor is il any usc ,
ill hi., view. usi n)!;" th" def.. nce of allq,:Ol")' (I",pmwia. 3iHr-). 1",,·-
r.ause ·the young· cannOI recognise th is when Ihey hear i\. In
thi, of eo un<e !he preoccupalion wilh Ih.; fU lure ·guardian. ' i.
evident; UUI Plaw·, di sli k(' of allegory is 10 be seen elsewhere
also.!l He rarel y uses it himself, and then with iron Yi J6 h is own
mylhs have reson anc.;s and deeper ~ig nifica nc<:s, hut nO! a
'hidden sense·. T h ... "onsl rue (io n of mylhs, according 10 Ihe
Republic, mUSI ue govcnwd by cenain guide-li nes (II/poi ), a nd
th ese in turn arc determined by the moral id eal appropriate 10
Ihe guardia n~; con co rd , courage and cont rol of emo tio n are
Ih.; ess,~ntial v irtues. Thu. not hing frightening about H ades is
permiss ible, ,HId 11 0 I,""e llla l;un,. Now Homeric he roes weep
Ireel r, and grieffo r I he d ead la kes ils course of due indulgen ce.
So il docs in mu,l Gree k communities of all periods. Pl ato is
im posing a special, pe rha ps Sparlan , ideal on h is imagined
" Ahow. Chaptn t! :\.
., Ph,,,,",,, H'~ ; If.
Lo A. at C"",iQ,. 49' .
 Criticism in Anli'luiry
elitc. Theoretica l support for these proposals is given by the
doclrine of mimiJis, Ihat is, the accoum Plalo gives of th e
relationship between the rea l world and itS coumerfeit in
literature and art. Discussion of this belongs toour next chapte r;
for the moment, it is cnough to observe that Plalo is co nvinced
that poetry does affect our emotion s, and Ihal exposure to
emOlional circumstance!! represented on the siage or in fi~.lion
is likely to intensify our natural tendencies and weaknesse<.
Ind eed, the beller the poclry. the worse the moral effect.

This tradition had a long history, but was none the less some-
limes an embarras'lme nt to later admire rs of Plato, such as
Plutarch. In his treatise On lis/tiling /0 tM potts," Plutarch uses
many of the examples given in the Rtp~blic; but his Object is nOI
to dissuade th e young from reading classical poetry, but only
10 show how it may be read without incurring mora] danger. H e
therefore draws an argument from the consideration that
poetry is not concemt-o with truth but necessaril y involVe!! fic-
lion, and orges that we can admire the skill of the imitation
evcn when we fcc! disgust at the thing representl-d. He draws
two other kinds of knowled ge into the art of judgment: co m-
prehcnsion of Ih e context and th e person of the slXaker; and
historical understanding of the peculiarities of the poet's
language and drcumstanCe5. All th is is in the service of a some-
what prudish res~tability, but Plutarch's enterprise is none
the lessofinterest: it probably represents fairly accurately much
educa tiona l thinking of the Roman period, and it entails COn_
side rable scholarly sophistication. In the pn:face to his life of
Pericles, however, Plutarch make!! a further point. It i$ to th~
e fft"Ct that virtue in i(..'\Clf contai ns a tendency to inc it e us to
emulate it. Hence Ihe presentation of vinuous cha racters- such
as most of those whose lives Pluta rch elec ted to write -
possessed an educational effecti\·enl"$S derived from the suhjeci
itself.
Plato and his followers thus recognised the educational force
of poetry. They believed that the praise and blame expressed
"s.:~ <l l>m.~, Chapter IV 7·
 The PQeI as Ttacher 9'
by the poets ~ and praise and blame were the essence ofthcir
work - were likel y [0 be rl cdsi\'c in determining lhe moral
a Iti( udes of th eir readc r~. POClry muSt therefore be con (rolltd _
Ifit was impossible \0 prevent poe ts from writing und esirable
lhin~ . the di sse minatio n of them must be chec ked ; and if dml
in turn prov"d impossi hl e, wise guidance 10 th e rea d er mig ht
at least lead him 10 a harmless interprel;t(ion.

7
Ari~t<) de' s positi,m on I],,;SC issues i.~ much more com plex. The
1'(J(lirs i~ concerned wilh lhe slxccial excel lence of poetry, wha t
we sho uld ""]! ils ilC'J l hctic q ualities. Poetica l concC1n~>$Il
(or /halls ) is. he says explicitly, di stinc t fro m Ihal of el hi cs or
olher skitl s.'3 The cr it eri on of uni ty, one o f the main grounds on
which he pre fe rs tragedy to epic, is a wholly 'aest he tic' one,
with no signi fica nt moral overto ne •.'? It i. Irue Ihat in dis-
ti ng ui shing comedy from tragedy he rests on a diltinction of
good a nd had nOt on ly in Ih e ,ubject, bUI in Ihe pcrw""lily of
the poet .20 Th is value-difference , howe-'er, o ugh l nOI 10 impl y
" dilfnen ct: of iIllrim ic value bel"""t:n the two ge nres them-
selves. Aristo lle o ught co nsistently IU hold thai a comedy which
achieves i\$ end a nd 'proper pleas ure' po!iSCssesas mud, poe tica l
orlholis as a simil arly cllCcli"e traged y. We do no t have his
aecounl of comedy , a nd sO CannOI ,ay whelher he aClually did
say thi s. BUI it would nOI be inconsistent with the hi 'lO rieal
specula tions of I'Mlies 2 . Cmnedr involves 'inferior ' pt:rso nal i-
lies. bot h " .1 subjects and as C<J "' pos,~r" _ T hi.1 doe, not a/feU the
coneClnes, o r ot hnw ise o f an y specific exe rcise of Ih e comic
poe!"s an. Yet when we re"d Ihc rest of the I'oeli", funhcr
eomplieatinn. "!,pc"r. I , wn uld ~p pt"" r r",,,, .-- h"I'''·'' '5/' '[,a'
the art istic principle of unit y j uSlilies th e im i ta t ion of wicked-
ness if it is necessary lor Ihe overall cllCet of Ihe play; in olher
word s, poelie,,] orlho/i)- hen: overrides moral. T he re'1uiremenl
that chara" ters shall he 'good ' tlu"n a p plies \() tragedy Il<;ca use

" "If",o ~3 .
" '46, ' 3-
'" '4-111" ,6, 'HH·2" tL. '449" p .
11 '4~1" ,6 ff.
9' Criticism in Anliqui!y
it is defined as having 'people bene r than ourselves' for its sub-
ject, not because it is cxpeclt'd ofi\ that it shall afford lessons or
exemplars for our own moral behaviour. On the other hand,
Aristotle seems \0 have thought thaI the relation between the
poet and his audience was not only distinct from that of per-
suader 10 persuaded ll but also from the relation of entertainer
to enlertaim:d. This is because he 100 Kgardcd ;1 as involving an
elemen t of instruction, the transference not of attitudes and
opinions conducive to the speaker's interest, but of knowled ge
and understanding valid in itself. 11was Aristotle's fundamental
oonvktion that 'all men daire to undcntand'; poetk min/his,
which was concerned with generalities, was an aid 10 Ihis end,
and SO waS "!non: .o;erious and philu'«)phical' than the n..:;ord of
individual facts which is called hiSloria. 2J In other words, a fic·
tional narrative of Ihe right kind has a wider application than
a factual one, and is a more eco nomical and at the same tim~
llIore penetrating way of helping us to understand the world
and the people in it}' There so:<: ms to he for AristOll e- as for
Plato-s harp opposition belween 'pleasure' and 'utility' where
poetry is concerned ; but whereas Plato surmounts Ihe anti·
thesis by identifying the right pleasure with that felt by the
mature and ""ber men of sense, Aristotle does <0 by arguing
that the pleasure of poelry includes that of learning. Poetry
thus does a service for the life of contemplation, rather than for
the life of action ; and for Aristotle this was th e higher mani.
festation of human polentiality, If 1)(IClry has a utility on the
pra'::lkallevci, whether Ic.::hni.::a! or moral, Ih is must then be
in cidental. A puzzle does indeed remain. The e ffe<:\ of tragedy
in 'producing a klllhllrsis of emotions' li ke pity and fear forms

" I.~. it i. di,tinct from th~ orator', . elation to hi, hear~fS: Ari,totlo "'.
g •• dod rh~toric a, an art " 'hieh could he u,ed fo< ,'ari"u. end., g.-..-.d or bad,
~nd conc~rned him""lf, in thc Rlr<ro.i<, ;oldy ... ith the mean, it cm plo)'ed,
-""'' a, an aut"nom"u, .y"~m of prin.:;iptes and de~ic."".
" t45t' 6,
" Ar"totle or course "'Karded the plot! or <ragedio .. bO>o<d on hi<torical
"".uto, and it W<)uld "" unfai' t(I him to ,",,)' that he ,,'ould c.clude w ntcmpor·
.rr or ncar contemporary hi.tury ~, a pul-!ible thcme for PUC!!)'. Thu, thc
tradition "'prnented by the "atement that 'I.u<an i, not r"doned a' a puct
be<~u'" h<: i, "'en to ha,·" composed hi"orio, not a pucm' (Isidore E(rmo-
I.~;at 8.7. t o j i, contrary to Arutotl,,·, ".,ldpo'nt.
 The PIXI as Tracker 93
part of the defin ition of tragedy, l! and o ne wuuld thin k that the
eHec t meant here is in !.Orne ~nse a moral one; hut the notorious
diflicultics of this abrupt and oracul~r allusion to kal/m,sis m~ke
it d ifficult to he sure what Aristotle mea nt and what relation
the doctrine bears to hi s po5ition on the issue we are here
considering.
'f his position is indeed not easy to define. Certainly, Aristotle
rejecls any view which exposes the poel, qua poet, to crilicism
on moral groun ds. H e regards such criticism as beside the
point. T he poet's arl lies dsewhere; ally lesso ns we learn from
him are irKidcntal to it. Yet th.~ subject of traged y and cpic-
and Aristmk ha rdl;' consid ers a ny thing dst" - is nothing but
Ih~ ~I' herr of hmmm <luion. and thi s involves a moral
diflerentiation ooth of the aclS and of Ihe agenL~. I'.\ oreover,
Aristotle would nOt dissent fro m the traditional view of poetS as
purveyors of praise and blame. and thus inevi tably of good and
bad e~amples. But he aHaciu..""S mOSI importan<:e, it would s.:em,
to Ihe co nsidera tion lhalthc pot:t g.: nc ra lises and idealises, thi>
proces.~ tending then to enli ght en Ihe undeTStunding of the
malure and balanced readn. It is a., though he is see king a
justification of poetry as a worthwhile stud y not for ordina ry
people but for those capable of ' philosophi cal ' enlightenment.
T his would be a direct response to Plat o's Rtpuhlic, and a de-
k nee (far more su btle tha" Plutarch '.) of the study of poetry by
thc people who mailer mosl.

,
Arislotlc's doctrine On thc n:lationshi l' of poetry 10 truth was
thu.1 complex a"d diflicuJt. Li ke muc h else in the PQ('/ics, it was
imperfttdy u n<i.::rst..,<)d ;II , I... H"lJc n ;SIic "s", Horae" , .... ho a h_
sorbed indire<:tl y muc h Ari.l lotelian doctri ne, talks on thc one
hand of the need for Ihe doc/us imitator to understand molts and
moral prill ci pk""S:'· in order that he lIIay be able 10 fash ion COII-
sistent alld appropriate representations of character, and on the
othcr hand of the past services of poet ry in civilising ma nkind. 11

" '449· ~7·

,. A" t-ti<a 3"9 If. (ALC ~88).
,., Ibid . 391 If. (ALC '90 ).
94 Criticism in An/iquiry
But he does not mah lhe c haracte ristically intellectualising
conn ection between the two. So th e idea e nt ertained by
A ristalk that poetry, in "in ue of its imitative character, might
have a special relalion.~hip with the res t of human life, dis tinct
from and 5Uperior to that of rhelOric, was nOl pu~ued. On th e
contrary: the similarity which Theophrastus formul ated"" be-
tween poetry and oratory, namely that both were directed nm
'a1lhe facts' but 'at the audience', and so wcrc not primarily
concerned with truth , weighed much more heavily in the minds
of all Arist()tl e's successors than any notion ortheir fundamental
distinctness. The problem of the commitment of poetry to
pranical i$Sues (Quid thus only be discussed in terms which had
no reference to this ; this meant a simpler debate, on grounds
familiar already in pn:.Ari~totelian thinking.
We find in fact two theories, crudely opposed to each uther.
On the one hand there were thuse who accepted the old vie ....
that the aim of po<:try was simply 'pleasure' , and identified this
pleasure with 'beguilement' (p$uchag(jgia). This was the vie .... of
the princ ipal Alexandrian schula ... and poets : Callimachus and
Eratosthenes both held it, so did Aga!h arch idesofCnidos,!II who
said clearly that it was wrong to blame poets for their myths
and improbabilities because the y aim not at trutb but a t
beguilement. Thi~ .. iew resembles Aristotle's positi on in assert-
ing the autonomy of poetry and the impropricty of judging it
on criteria not suitahl e to it. Hut it is really quite different.
Th ese wr ite rs (and especially Call imachus) were mainly con-
cerned .... ith poetical technique - me tre and th e p lacing of
words, vocabulary and metaphor, T he good ness of a poem
rested on this, not on choi~'e of suhjl,cl. Of the philosophical
schools, it was the Epicureans who came near",,1 10 affording a
th eo ret ica l bas is lor thi s attitude, the Stoics who most clea rly
upposcd it.
Epic urus' hostility to poe lry as a vch icl c or instruc tion was SO
sharp that it is puzzling to find Lucretius ac tually setting out his
doctrines in vcrse ,JO On Ihe other hand , later Epicureans at

'" ex. aho\'~_ Chap'" t. ... 4. App<n<!i •. p. '-"'3.

,. Cf. al"",", Chap.er III . 11_ j ~_
.. The ·par.dox· of Lu c",.iu, ;' di>cu""d. c _g_. by P_ H . Sdtrij,·.... II.".,
a, /);,in4 1'. /.rlll-1 ( '970), .,.p. 325 If.
 T"~ POri as TrtU/.tr 9S
least were interested in "n"lysing the mechanism by wh ich
poetry effected ib beguilement, however trivial iLl object was.
T u the Stoics, a t the o ther extreme, a poem was, of cou~, a
verbal construct, giving charm and pleasure- but it was also
'significant' of the world ofgoos and men. Ifit is a good poem,
it contribule5 to the good life, T he general view of the Stoics
may be seen in Strabo's polemic against Eratosthe nes. JI T hey
held that Homer was (an d iutended to be) educa tive, a nd on
more than one level. T he poe ms were of use to farmers and
geographers, a. wel l as to n"",kind in general in a mora l sense.
T he poel's skills were thus anci ll ary to ~.Jucationa l needs _
C leant hcs and (in a sense ) Aratus and Manil ius t:onsciously
used it to promulgate Stoic views of the un ivt,n;e. T his a tti tude
has afilnities, of co urse, with Plato , But instead of following
Plato in confining the legitimate uses of poetry to hymns and
encomia, the Stoics tell in wi th t he old er tradi tion of allegorical
interpretation. This was in accord with thdr similar conserva-
tive attitude to myth and (ult; and it is la rgely through the
Stoics that allegory became so very important in Hellenist ic,
Roman an d indeed Christi an times.
Some discussion of allegory is thus a natura l pendant tu the
topics we have been conside ring_

I n<iced, allcgory has a relc,,~ncc to the topics both of this

chapter and of the preceding. Not only is it a way of investing
the offensive or the trivi"l with acce ptable alld important mean-
ing, bUI the fundamental idea that then: are hidden signifi-
cances in (he poet"s words accords well with the doctrine of
divine i n_'pi ration. I f God speaks Ih ro tigh the poet'. muu Ih, he
may be expec ted to do so in oracular term" unintelligible with-
out a skilled in terpreter. T he Gr~"e k s were uS<..J to riddling
o racles.
The long and complex history of a ncient allegorica l inter-
pretation na turally lies beyund our thcmc. JZ It has to do with
the history of religion and ethics more t han wi th t hat of literary
"s.:. at",,"., Chapler t, n_ ~I.
" l\esid.,. HuHi!:« .... J. Pcpin, Myhul Qlli~i, (19,,8) ; OeD, , .v, Alkgo,y
96 C,i/icfJm in tlnliqui!J
criticism. Nor is th e Ilat 1I~ of 1he supposed . hidden knowledge'
our concern: it migh t ~ scientific, mora l, political or, in the
NeoplalOnists, metaphysical. The implications for cr iticism, it
seems to me, are three:

0) T he fif$\ is to be seen in the arg ume nt for the plausi bili ty

of the method expound ed in the early cha pters of , Heraclitus' ,n
This is based on the occurrence in the poetS of passages that arc
ob\'iously 'allegorical'. ' Heraclitus' fi nds th~e in the early
ly ri ci.,,: Archiluc h us and A!cacus use images of Storm and SCa-
faring to denote political upheaval and danger. He finds them
also in Homer himself, in the words of Odysseus about the
wastefulness of waf:
Broll ze throws a lot o fsl'''w down On the ground , out the harvest is
scanly ......
T his last is also the grammarians' stock example of the trope
all~goria.3' It i. On the way to [' .. ;ng " ,h at ,,'e shou ld call an
allq:orv. but not yel <In extcnded n<lrrativc. ' Heraclitus' in t:1CI
does nOt distinguish very dearly between diflerent kinds of
figu ra live discourse: his aeeoun t includes not only allegories of
th e gods and the stori es about thc m - Apollo is lhc ~un, Alhena
wisdom, the binding of H era the <.:reation of the world - but the
personification ofPraye.-s (Lilai) as lame, wrinkled old women,
who cast down their eyes .... He has no thoory to distinguidl
thes<:: obviously diflerent thi ngs. What is important is that he
argues from acknowledged imagery to the likelihood lhat th ere
is more to be uncovered. T he basis uf the method is thus extra-
polation from a (supposedly) known instance.
rii) 'Hemditus' assumes that what he is uncovering is actually
the intcntion of the author. This scems to be the general 'L~-

O. Tat r) ; Pli.mo. &qdo"",Jio of P""'y and P",'i<J. M ·. Allegory (N. Fry.,);

C . S. Lewi •. n, AII'l O'Y of u". (t936); A. n .tche,. AI/'lO'Y ( I ¢.I),
11 Se. '\PP"ndi •. p. '90. F, lI"ffih~'. lIudt <:<lition or 'Heraclitus' ( t 962 ) ;.
th. mo.. co",'enient .
.. fl. 19.22~,
" So in T Typhon (3. 191 r. Spengd ).
"/I, 9.,,02 If. ' Heraditul' (3 1) romm~nll: ' Hum.r is a painter of human
~motio .... a. it W~"'. d, ... ing lip00'r... ling. with 'he name! of g<>d • .'
 The POtl as Twcher 97
sumption througho ut an tiquit y. H orne r was thought to h;l\"c
bccn fully conscious of all the moral and scic mifi<: fa<:ts that
wne read inlo him . In th e last age or Ihe a ncient world, th e
Silnl e waS sa id also of Virgil: fulgc miu.s l1 mak.:s the poe t him_
selfrevca l his hidden meanings, thoug h ,;mpha~ising that he was
a paga n to whom the Christ ian rcvda tion had no t b,ccn vouch.
safed . Without (llis as-su mpl ion, I he defensi"e object of allego ry
- whic h had d evclopcrl largely as a res ponse to attarks o n im.
mo rality in myth and <: pi <;- <;ou ld IH;V (:f hayc b~<: n allaincd.
Th e onl y area of doubt seems to have heen whether Homer's
intention in cl uded the inte nt ion 1flleach: perh aps , it was sug ·
gested, he put th ings Ih is "'ay just for poetical ef1Cctivencs-s.
E,'en Ph ilod em"" ",ho den icd Ih a t poet ry h ad a moral fu net iOIl,
allowed that Homer 'knew the fOwts ' , but <]ue.tioned whether
he se t Ihe m dow n ' for tdu~atio" al purpo;;es' ..l>I So, ill ,w fa r as
il used 'all egory' as a means of im erpre la tion, :mc ient cri ticism
was 'intent io na list' ,
(iii ) It follows Ihal tI. e a ncient inh'rp reters assumr,d Ihat Ihe
:l!u hors Ihey were e"jX>unding fiN t form ula led their messagr:,
and then gave il allegor ical d re.s. 'I 'h is is to neg lec t a d istinction
betwr:en 'allegory' and ·s~· mboli.\m· , which is co mmonly sta ted
in modern times. No one in an tiqui ty seems to ha\'e had th e
idea tIl;! 1. inslcad of begi nning with a mr:s"agc and em bodyi ng
it ill fiuion, o nc might begin with a story o r subject and treat
it "'< a sy mbol o f happe nin g' or IrUlhs whi ch ha" e some fo rmal
n ;scm blanct to it. And th is is odd, ' r he practical and rhe tor ical
usc of mythi cal and h istor ic"l (Xfmpla itself im plies t hat Ihe Ira·
dilion al stori es con lain as il were the jX>tentiality of being
applied in a grea l many ways. Aga in, some an cie nt poems
!Irong ly 8uggest thaI this is :m intelligent approa ch 10 under-
standing Ihe m , It is d iffic ult to thin k that Virgil di d not have
the Irials and triumphS of atl human life in "iew as h is ~u bjcct
wh en he wrOle the Georg ics, or Ih at Iht ex ploits and virt ues of
Al'neas do not somehow fores hado w those of August us, without
therc being Ihe kind of ~"quivHfence betwee n them tha t would
lead us to spea k of allegory .

., s.~ Premi"g<' 3~4 -40.

" C. J~""'''. l'hil<HItm., ...• p. 7.
 Critici,,,, in Antiqlliry
These conside rat io ns suggest that we have here another case
or the inadequacy or ancie nt c riti cism, as the rh etol'S and
grammarians practise<! it. Their principk"!l of 'allegory', li ke
their principles o f style, could not do j ustice 10 the complex and
sophistica ted literature they we re st udying.
 CIIM'TE II SEVEN

Mimesis

,
T ilE relation,hip be tween anist or work on the one hand and
th e world of exterll al objec ts on the other is very commonly
d escribed in Greek by the term mimisis, the Latin tra nslation
of which is imitalio. I T hese a rc difIicu lt wo rds to in terpret, and
they covcr a number of con fusions and ambiguities, But it was
ha nil)' ever q W:S t ioned in ant iq nity rhat Ihey we re appropri .. te
as a genera l d e'it;ript ion or what ~ (s and an isls do. Now
Ihese words certainly indkau: that the rcia lionship was held to
be some sort of represe n tation o r copying, \\'hal e\'er prob lems
arc raised hy this, the ani st's product, the mimtllla, could nOt
comc inlo cxistcnt\: witholH a corresponding object ou\.\ide, on
which il d\:pends for its structure and dmraclt:rislics. It is a
d istim;t;I'e featu re of ancien I c ri tidsm 1hat this was very widely
takt: n for granled, I ndeed, opposing "ltitu dt;S a rc vcry rarely
glimpsed . I t wa< of co ll l'Se po",iblc, within th e framcwork o f
mi"'isis_th oo ry, to allow for the possi bility ofreprodlH:ing you r
own framc of lllin d. Th e letter-writer has to project his im age
to his d istant ~()rrc<; p()nd e nl , and make it see m as if he was lalk-
i"g to him fa ce to face; and De me tri us th ere fore ,a ys of the
le i tcr w i, id, had hc"olll c a III inQr bu I "igni fic" II t Ii tc nlTY fu m,
- that it is an 'ima ge ' orthe sender's mind (tiko" ItS ps"rhis),2

' Of tho ,'as, !it"""""". J sillKl<- 0<'" T. Twi llin~, I)iswlal .." On """I') 0< O.
imila,i", a,'. "PllClld r<l h\ his edition of the Poeli ... (, ;&,1), and "nrn "'prin,ed
1>"" Ol"'n ); 1/. I/"u,,'. A,i"oll" ('""ie> r '9.<;6), R. l>[ r K",n. ill .Hod". 1>~iI(J(~",
34 [ , !l1Gj , ' - 35' \\' ..1, V "rocni"" ,\I;",,,., ( '953): G. F. [ I" in C(~jJi,.1 Phi/(J(b,,'
~3 ( '9:,11), 73-9''' and ",0., """ '"Ily . .1 . [",t", ... I .,.;~, I" /li.I.,,", pl.'D-
.idI. , . . [ '!1781, 7~ If. ;lIld H , rta,h", in t ;."'li,., /f.,d, ~~ ('!l79I, 79 ff,
, Ikmr"iu. n7 (:lI.C 2' , ),
But this is still a very long way from the Romanti c concept of
literature as motivated by th e need for '~ If-expressio n'. Agai n,
ancient notions of 'imaginat ion' - phanlasia- are a long way
from Coleridge; and the whole idea of the writer as somehow
creating a new world, rath er than merely offering a partial
image of th e world of the senses, is in general alien to Gr~ k and
Roman thinking. The man who sees with the eye of the mind,
and penetrates depths unkn ow n before, is the philosopher Or
sdentist, nOl the poet o r man ofletters. Such passages ofanciem
literature a.o; are some times alkge<! \0 represen t the poet as a
true creator {urn o ut in fact nOt \0 say this at all: when Macro-
bius compares Virgil to the maker o r the kosmos, he is merely
making an analogy between the concordia diu()n of the elements
that constitute our unive rse and tlte unity in di versity produced
by Virgil 's power of co mbining various styles in a single work.l
In ancient thought , the myth-maker ( rn"lh~poj()s) , even the
maker of what we should call fantasy, produces a suggestive or
dis[{)rted image ufreality, not a st ructure thai exists in its own
right and for it$ own sa ke.

,
Of the va rious ambiguities inherent in the term rnlrniflS, twO
ma~· be single<! out. Thomas Twining, in his classic essay on
'poetry a. an imitative ar!", point~-d out that Aristo tl e in the
PM/iN used ' imitation' in two senses-'imitatiOIl in fiction ' and
the imitation of 'personative poetry' , in which spee<:h imitates
speech- but ncgle<:ted two others, both of which are clearly
importa nt in describing what poetry does: si mple imitation by
sou nd , and what Twining ca Us 'imitation in de<eription·,
whether of natural objects or of mental stal es. These distinc-
lions are imponant: the use of a single term to cover all kinds of
mimicry and suggesti ve representat io n is bound to cause prob-
lems. BUlt!tere is a seco nd kind ofambiguitr in the te rm which
is also se rious. ,\'1 irnbis, i II Aristotle· s acoou nt , oovers IWO aClivi -
' Macrobim ~. '-I6-I~ (..., App, ,,diK. p. ,<)6 and If. "Is" p_ I~ on PIal"):
... y thi, 10 c"""t~r ,be ",mark; of E. Curtiu., E~ ..",u Likrsl><" oM 1M
fAli~ Middl, .i llS (E. lr. ) 4-1 + a m>.gnificcnt a nd dC>(:ryedly inAu.nti,,! book.
,·. ry irnporlalll 10 da .. ical "'hola D .
 ,\-fimtsis w,
ties whic h are radi call y different in inte ntion . .-Himimala ma y be
of two quite ditlerent kinds. I can cnpy somebod y doing some-
thing for ei ther of two reasons : in o rd er to do the sam e thing
m yself, or in orde r to produce a lO y or model of the activit y. The
liNt sort of ,imitation' is the principle of ma ny human skills and
artefacts; 'a rt imi ta tes na ture' by pla ntin g seeds a nd le tting
the m grow, a nd in countless ot her wa ys! It is also th e bask
procedure of h uman lea rning. Such mimiJis is obvio usly useful.
The second sort occurs, say, whe n the painter pain ts a pic tu re of
a shot"", o r the 10~' mak er makes a m in ia tu re model; nei th er
model nor pict ure will keep on e'~ fee t dry. To mak e an y
apologia for poe try, ifit i.1 regarded as a mim etic a rt, invol\'~"S
show ing that th e second ki nd of mimisis, the makin g of models
or IOys, has a utility. Ari stotle a ppea rs to do th is in a special
ca.'I(: by his ps ychological theory of the 'catha rt ic' effect of
traged y; but he also, in the ea rl y .:hapters of the Poetics, e m-
phasises the valu e of imita tio n as a pnx:ed ure of lea rning, a_I
tho ug h th e obvio us utility of copying in Ihis mntext mi ght ru b
otT, as it we re, On what tht· poet does.

The verb mimelliliai a nd its cog nates do not a ppea r in the Iliad
or th e Od)"S$ty . They may be o ll o ma topoeie in o ri gin, a nd it
see ms that th ey a pply pri ma ril y to the mimicry of so und s. The
compos<: r ofthc Ho meric hymn 10 Apoll() deserib,,, the mai de ns
of Deloo; a$ , inging of 'me n and wome n of old ' a nd 'c harming
th e I ribe~ of me n' . 'They kno w to mimic the voices and c hatter
of all mCI] ; a ma n wou ld think he was talking him seH; so har-
mo nious is th ei r bea utiful song.'l Again , in Aeschylus' ChIN-
pM,;, Ore..." nnd 1' ~·lad e' l'rel .. nd 10 h e Phoc inn., a nd prop<>",
to 'imitate the sound of a Phocian to ngue'.6 Of co urse, they do
not do so, a t least so far as th e evidence of th e tex t goes, for
Ar.sc hyl us gi\'es ItS no hint of I'hocia n dial ect ; and it is very
• Th is id . a played a targe pan io mao)" aoe;.", throri"" of lil . de,·.lopm.rIl
,,r . i,·iti, a l; On . It was famili" to AriuolJ. ( f'~JJ. 19'J" IS, .1 /,1<1), ~. 3U,· 6,
PYoI"ptu... fro I I W~tttr [ - I. mbt ichu., Pro,,,,,. 9, 49 If. Pi. , dl i]. )
, 'fl If. K",,,~.l;.,t,,, . here "an , tate<! '. ha lle", i. of "««nai n meaning.
The "'r iler probabt)· intend. the onintelligibte gi bt:.e ri.h offor.ign""•.
• CMrpM'; ,,64
 Criticism in Antiquilj
'"
unlikely that the actors introduced any identifiable oddities of
pronunciation. Bill, even in early times, this group of words has
a wide range; and there is nothing in our evidence for its use
that throws much light on the later theorctical developments,'

•
The fil1!t tlll>()retical discussion we pos-o;es$ of m;m/sis in connec-
tion with literaturc is that which wc find in Plato's Rtpubiic.
PlalO uses the co nce pt as an integral pan of his argument for
rejecting poe try, thc moral grounds for which we ha'"e already
considered. He IJegins by isolating ' perwnative' poetry-to use
Twining's word - and assigning the name mimlsis especially to
this.! He distinguishes three kinds of story-telling: by simple
narrative, br mimisis, and by a combination of the two. The
difference betwcen drama and epic is the formal one that the
latler includes narrative in addition to direct . peech. This
division is thus a da,,~ification uf modes of imitatiun (in the
wider sense ), nOI ofslIbjects; it is ex haustive "nd a PTiori; and
il seems to atlach unreal importance to the simplt: difference be-
tween direct and indirect speech, Ihough we have to remember
that this kind of grammatical analysis was nO\'e! in I'lato's time,
and Ihat he himself clearly attached significance to the diSlin~._
lion in question.~ In any case, Ihe purpose of thc mo\"e in the
total argument is clear. Those parts of literature- all drama ,
and portions of epic- which directly imperwnate characters
can, according to Plato, exert an ex traordinari ly powerful in-
fluence on the mind of the ' imitator'. It dO<,,. us harm , in Plaw's
view, 10 act the parts of women mourning or ill, in lo\'e or in
labour. or ofsla\'es or wich-d men. \Ve are bound 10 ask, how-
ever, whelher the speclalOr or reader of a pla y can reallr be
aflected 10 Ihe same degn"C as the ac tor. Plalo seems to make
thejutllp from aClive participation to mere observation wilhout
, No'hing can he leamed from Ly.ia. 6,5' , ,hough i, ha. bttn much di ...
,·u,.ro; here mi""",,,,,.o' !Cern' to mean 'copying the real <eremnnic>' of 'he
m)"mri ... which ..\ndocidco impiou,l)" par<><li.. ,
'1,.1b I AI,C 6, ).
• Cr. Thtatur", ' 4~-3 ( Labord"ie. op. C;I.. 394 H'.) 1'1.10 <1 ... "., 'I1"O';On
h", ,,, ,he wa y in ,,'hich 'he com·c ..... 'ion ,,-i,h Theae'e'u. hal been ..-rinen
down , ,.j• . oonjnjng ,h. ·"arra,i.-' ","'OI'C.,. (' h~ said' ~ ' c. ) ,
 , "3
explaining it. T wo considl:ra(ioIl5 may help here. Qne is (hal
' rcading' poetry was if mure active ousiness in ancient times
than weare inclined \0 thin k. I I involved a good deal ofhistri-
unie play, as well as a good deal of vocal virtuosity. The
th row-away manner it) which some modern poets preselH Iheir
works would probably have seemed very strange and mis-
guid ed. tO The second point is Iha( audiences wac expecleU !O
parti<:ipatc in the feelings uf th" spea ke r in a morc pronou nced
way than is usual today. The educated modern critic tends 10
he patronising towards simple folk who 'enjoy a good HY' in the
cinema; bu t Ihe audience that Plato envisages participates in
the emotions of the stage or the recitat ion \0 the pooint of
physical expression, and Ihis indeed is a criterion of the per-
former's ~ucce~s." Consequent!y, the in dfects of the mirnbis on
the performer win be reproduced , not all that much wea kened,
o n thuse who hear him.
When we lurn 10 Book x of the Rtpublir, we arc faced with
considcrable difllculti\:s. T he di'rus-~ion her ... (orreo;:ts and su p-
plements the earlier one, It itwoln'S the application of Ihe
theories of Forms and of the 'polrls' of the sou l sct out in Books
V- Vtl. T his is natural enough. wheth er we SUPI)()Sf that thr.
di5K:U <i$ io n in x was platuwd as pari o f til<' whole and deliber-
ately postponed or that il is in fa el a later add ition to the
origina l plan. The prohlem is that the diS linC lion between per_
sonative and nun-person",ive poeny is nuw dropped, Bodl arc
described as mirniJi5, both arc condemned 011 grounds that
follow from that dCKription ,
I' lalO begins, this time, Irom an analogy with the visual arts,
He assumes the pa inter wantS to make a li ken<:ss, "nd that in
order to do so he n~'Cds 10 know o nly what the thing looks like,
not ho w to make it in reality, nor e\'en how to use il. Similarly
with th,: poet: he does nOI need to know huw 10 make wa r or
advise men, hut only ho w \0 say Ihe sorts of things that people
,. T hi, r",hion (I 'hink or R,,,,,",, Gra w" in I hi, ~o"''''''l io,,) rna}' I... 'l~it~
",,'W . S~T\i,'i")( n'('()(t\, ,-.( T n",)'""" ''<'rtainl} .I~,w a much mo.... d,,.-Iamatory
m"""ct.
"cr. Plato 11m :>3~ (,1/£ H ). Ion judged hi> ,un... by lb. audicnc"
lea .... S1. AuguOlinc (II, Io<lf. ,h,isl. IV, S3) perhal'" rememb",nt llti. pa,,,,g<'
" 'hen h~ r""allntl he ,,'ay in " 'hid, hi. o,,·n <)~~I<)ry ",,,,,cd" rioling I"'puiace
10 lears : appia" .. " 'o,,Jd ha," "'.anl "'e..., "Ie",,,«, ,earS m,a n' ''-'''''ielion,
,., Criticism in Antiquity

say in circumsta nces of war or po litks. He needs no real moral

knowkdgc, blll only the 1I(:115C of wh al urdinary people believe.
He is 't hird from the truth', because the world of the senses is an
imitation of the world of the forms, and he in turn imitates the
wor ld of sellse. Th e poet thus doa nuthing which has val ue for
the good life. M e laph~ical and psychological arguments have
combined to repITScllt him as both fraudulent and dangerous.

5
This picture is indeed somewha t modified in o ther contexts.
The acceptable poet of the lAws is a good man in his way: over
fifty years of age, having sCTvO!d th e slate with credit, he is now
allowed under licence to compose poems of praise and blame. 12
But Plato makes no attempt 10 describe what an idea l JlO<:!
might be, even in the somewhat ironical way in which he
sket ched the ideal orator in the PhtudruJ. We have no reason to
think that he ever en tertained the nOlion that poets a nd art i,to
might aspire to copy directly the ideai of which objects in the
visible world are themselves copks. Poetic mimlri.f is firmly
mimisif of th is world, involving no knowledge of higher thing5.
The neares t he comes to suggesting anothe r view is in Republic
401 B. where we find gra ndio'IC langua)l:e aOOut the good arti \t
who r,an ' track down the nature of the beau tiful a nd graceful".
This pr~umably means tha t lhe art ist has some power to rec-
ognise and reproduce goodness, and not merely to echo com-
mon illusions. He is perhaps on a level with the lo\"er in the
lower stages of Diotima's 'ascent' in the S)'mpQJium, IJ who pur-
sues beauty without philosophi ca l knowledge. Th e road to
cognit ion of the forms, which would be the neco.>SSary preli min-
ary to 'imita tion ' of them, lies through intense sllldy of
philosophy and mathematics ; it has nothing in common wilh
th", ways in whkh Ix:....ts and painters go about their thin k ing.
So, though Pl ato likes th e paradox of the 'philosopher king',
and even hints at a 'philosopher orator', he does not envisage
a phil osop he r poet.
But if Plato, as is commonly held," never proceeded further
" Lau:J 8.829C- "Sympo.iom ~Ol" If.
"Some argumenu 10 Ihe C<)ntral)' in Verdenim, op. dt
 Mimuis ...,
in this direction, later l'latoniSIS did. \ Ve do nOI know when Ihis
trend began, but Antiochus of A.calon in the first cenlury !l.C.
' had ,It least an intermediary role'l! in establishing a higher
view of art istic creation than that tll which Pla to himself
adhcred .
At all events, there is a lair alllount of evidence lat er than
Ant iochus for an an,llogy drawn between th e 'demiurge' orthe
world and the ani:'l, according to which both conte mplate
Ih cir own Ihoughu in ordu \0 form their creations. T he
demillrge thinks the ideas, and models the sensib le world on
them. T he sculptor Phidias ( the traditional example in the
argument) has in his mind specits ph/rhrilr,dinis eximia qUMdam,
as Cicero putS it ,l~ "hi,.h he co ntemplatcs as he works on his
Zeus or Athena, and hy whic h he guid~ his hand and skill. In
this lorm, t he a na logy is associated wi th a metaphysical posit ion
diller"m from Plato's: tlu: I rlea~, in~u: ad of having a ", holly
,e parate exi stenc(". have heco"'c the T houghts of God. This
was accepted doct rine among many Plalonists of the lirst a nd
second cen turi("s A.V . , though its origin is not clear." T he con-
sequent aesthetic theory, in which the artist stands to his work
a. the ideas stand to God who Ihinks them. is not reall}' a
mimetic theory at all, hut an expressive one, for the artist now
brings somethi ng or himsclf (0 the light of day.
In Plotinlls "nd the Ncoplatonists, the metaphysics is again
more complex, and II,,: cs~!:nt i aJ po in! Ihal ani.11 a nd 1I()!:t
derhe Iheir ,uuj.:ct fro m somel hing of a h igher order Ih<l n the
wo rld oflhc ~en~es is mllch d earer. PIOlinu, pms it Ih us:
I( anyone disp;m'l;cs the arts because ther produce h" imitating
natUl'e. "'e mus' rCl,ly: (i) th'lI natural ohjttts also imilate other
things ; (ii ) thaI il must be under.l100d thai Ihe am do nol simply
im i'au, .hp \'i,ihl~, b,,, ""","cl 10 ,he Prinei].I.,. (lcg~;) (rom " 'hid,
naWl'" dcri,'cs ; (iii ) Ihat 1he an. prodtKC lIIuch oul of Ihcmsch-t"S, Hud
add th is where Ihere is some defect , themsd\"es p0S.«essing beauty;
" J. Dill"n. TM Middl, l'latonim ( J9;; ), 93 11". 0" ,\miodlU> "'" "'I'. W.
Thdler. [li, I".,n"il"~~!lt; -"",,toro. i,,"", ('934 ), '7 .
.. 0'010' 8: '1n hi' mind there .... s an """tamling al'l".r.>nce of b('au,y.
and he <"<Intcmpt.,p(t .hi, ~nd oo",'<nl ,ated upo" " M' a. '0 guide hi. 'kill and
hi> hand I)\" il> likrm:,,: F", 'he '·~pr,"",io" . rf. 1'1. Rrp. 41itc.
"Dillon, loc . Cil . ; 1\ . H. Arm"",ng. H.,W;.", fla,dl 5 ( '9"'0) 393 fT.
s.n<:<:a (£P;<I. sf! "nd 6~) ,«"" ,hi. a. a ",dl_knmm d"",,;,,<.
 Criticism in AI/tiqu!!>,
(iv) that I'hidias made his Zeus on no sensible modd , but app",hend,
ing what Zeus would I()(>k like, ifhe wished 10 appear to our $ighl.'·

Later, in Pro<; lus," il is not only the highest but also the
second o r 'instruc ti\"(,' kind of poetry that has this relationship
to a higher order: the 'instructive poet' knows 'tht real nature
of beings' and can provide ' recollectio n' o f 't he eternal prin-
ciples and various powers'.
This Nrop latonist approach was historically very inHuenlial,
especially in the Renaissance. It has little to do with Plato ; it
would be (ruer to say that it is an attempt 10 justify poetry
against his ctnsun:, by bringing togtther the concept of
mimesis and the poet's claim to superior knowledge, and re_
valuing them both .

6
Ano ther reaction to Plato '. radical views- and one that was
well known to th e r-,'I iddle PlatQnisll! and to Plotinus and his
successors - was thaI of Aristotle. I n the analysis of mimesis, as
in mnc h d se, the Potlies gives the most sophis ti ca ted literary
theory t hat antiquity has left us. Briefl y, Aristotle's position
is Ihi!:

(i ) He accepll! the cia.>;.<; ifi cal ion ofpoelry a. a mimetic arl.

For him, il is all equally 110. The narrower se nse in which
'mimetic' is distinguished from narrative does not concern him
much. It is in fact simply a dille rence of mode, and thert an:
othtr, olien more important, ways in which one mimisis dillers
from another. The chief of these are ' mooia' (di'MII) and 'ob-
jects' (ha ). Thns while drama differs frolll epic in mode, it has
the same objects and uses the sallie medium, verse . The differ,
ence be tween tragedy and comedy, on the other hand, is one
of object; and Ihat belween poetry as a whole and lIIusic o r
dancing one of mediu m.
(ii ) Th e object imitatoo by poetry-as by dan cing, for Ihal
"E""",d, ~.8.L. Cf. .\\. 1-1 . Abram •. TM ,IIi"., ""d 1M I",m/>. 4'. and
A. H. Arm.,rong in C_o.;IIl' "i,/<)'7 of fAit> (;,,,k P";IOJ~.J. 733 ·
.. C.m ....~/4f.J OJ! 'IV/'t'bli£' i. '79.5 Kroll. cr.• bo,·~, Chap'er IV 8.
 Mim(Jis '"7
matter - is human action (praxis ), This involves inten tion,
execUliorl and uutcome, A praxis is nOi juSt a happening -
animals ca nnot 'a(t ' (protlein), nor ~ven ch ildren, 20 for ' act ion' is
a complex whole into wluch feeling, c haracte r and rational
thought all en ter. T he J>O"'t's primary work is therefo re the plot
(m~ lhos) of play or epic ; in this he const ructs a representation
of peuplt pc rlunni ng actions of the kind s th at p~'(}ple of their
sort wi ll naturally do, with the conseq uences that may be ex-
po:ctcd to follow . Th e mimisis is thus an image ofa praxis. Th is
ubviously applies to d rama and epic; thoug h Aristotle does not
say much a bout ot her grnrt.J, suc h as lyric , he evide ntly held
that thc saine account would hold of anything that could
properly be brought under thc he ad of poiiliki.
(iii ) T he portrayal of action involves the portrayal of iW,
i.e. hu Illan Illilnners iI nd charilctcrs, and t hest are eit her 'good'
or 'bad ' . Poetry i. therefor.: a representation of some thing
morall y differentiated, a nd ils 1,,"0 main kinds ca n be dis-
tingui shed, o n th e basis of thei r objects, on this prin eipl ~ :
traged y imitates 'good' characters and co medy ' had ' ones. It
is no! ea.'y to inter pret this position; tll(!re are pitfalls on either
sid~ . On the on~ h'llld, it is tempting to water the statement
down , and say that 'good ' a nd 'b"d' an: primarily soc ial o r
pol itiealt u m •. There is plausibility in th is. 'The bell er sort' is
a common Athtnian way of denoting the upper Sira ta of
soc iet y, and it is of course': true that the perso nages of tragedy
are heroes and princes, a nd those of corned)' pri vate ci tizens ;
Thcophra.tus~' , poJ< e of tragcdy as com prising 't he circum-
stances ofl":roi(. fortune' , ami of cOllu!dy as 'a stOry of private
ilffairs involving nO danger' . Yet this social diflcrcnce ca nnot
be the whole story. Prominent among the d lilractcri. ti cs of
ilhi a rc wh," we sho uld enll m o r~1 virtues - j ustice. conra!;lc.
moderatioJl a nd so forth. T he ·action.\ ' ofthc IlC IWns in the play
are partly detc.rmined by these, and partly b y other, mOl"e ex-
ternal, q ualit ics wh ich also eha racteril.c ilki, \.;U t do not a p pear
to us as 'moral" at all - power, wealth, statu s o r age. For
Aristotle, as for most Gree ks of his tim e, " certain deg ree of
good fortu ne in Ih ~'"Se respens was nec=ary for human happ i_
nl'S', an d their presence Or ahsenee affects the way;n wl,ich ''''
"DiomcdcsGra"''''./AI. , . ~H7.
 i~
"'" Critici= Aflliqlli!y
individual behaves, and goes to determine what son of person
he is.
(iv ) Aristot 11'22 ~arg that tragedy imitat~.. pcopl" 'ben". than
the present population' and comedy thOM: who aT" 'wor.;.,· than
these. Again,'l poets imitate eithe r things as they were or are,
or a. people sayor think they are, or as th ey 'ought' to be. Yet
again,24 the poet is more 'philosophical' than the historjan, be-
cause he is not concerned with individual facts but with
generalities (Ia kallwioll ). All th ese state ments make it clear that
,\rislOtle's mimisis is something very different from (he striclly
realistic copying or mimicry that is the basis of Plato's argu-
ments. The result of the process, it appears, is often an idealisa-
tion or a generalisation-in comedy, a caricature-of the ob-
ject pcrceived in life. The poet, like the painter," can fill up
deficie ncies in his modd, and show panicular i lhi in a more
complete form than we can e\"er discern them in the world in
which we li\"e.
(v) This generalising and idealising tend ency in poetic
mimisis is to be co nnected with another aspect on which
Aristotle lays stress: its instructive ness. We learn by imitating,
and we cnjoy the pleasure ofrccognition. But the recognition
is not of identical objects, but of sim ilar ones; to see like n~,
to sense the common features between events on the stage and
events around us, is to e nhan ce one'.' understanding and SO 10
gain a little of the high es t of human pleasures. It is fundamental
for Aristotle thaI 'allmen d esire 10 understand'; by his inter_
pretation of mimi.r;. he shows how poetry also may contribute
to the fulfilment of the desire.

7
/i.fimisi. thus takes on a creative look; it supplements. improves
and illuminales its ostensible models. But it remains of cour.;.,
who lly dependent on them fOf its initiati,·es. It cannot 'make
"'4411"'1· I
" '460' 8.
" 145"
" X~"" p hon (M, ...,abili4 1.10.1 - 5) ·...,poru· a com·~ ..... 6on
;n "'hieh
Soc,a ..,. con"inca Parrh ... iu, lhal b}' r<l'l"Odacing rUlu, .. of upressio" he
Can a]", "'p,c<cnt l.hi.
 Mimuis
that which it has nOt seen'. For the creative fac ulty of'imagina+
lion' which can do juSt th i~, later writers used Ihe lerm pilaf!'
lasia,lt> Now Aristotle did himsdfhave a psyc hological theory
orphan/asia : it was <t facuhy se t in motio n uy 5Cnse.pen;ep tio n,
and suusO!(luentlr rC[lroduci ng , mo rc faintly, th e image. pre -
sented by the senses. l1 But he does not connect th is with any
special activity of the poet or artisl. Later philosophers, no t
only Stoics, used the term in various ways, and it came to have
a ll~e in lit<;rary thco ry , We find a distinction drawn betwee n
the kind of poetry wh ic h is 'imi tative uf rea lit y (alilhlia )' and of
which comedy i~ a dear instan<.:e, and two o lher kind s : one in
which 'n:alit y' is ' irnagin<.:d' (kata phantasian 11$ alilh,ias), and
one in which 'rea li ty' is ~urpassed by Ihe im ag in a tive rea("h that
inve nt s mon Sters and marvels,l! This way of spea king may wdl
be Hellenistic,
But th,: mOSt interesting uses of phallla:;ia a re to be found in
the later rhelorical crit ics, Q ll intilian and ' Lo ng inlls' _
Q ll intilian 19 promul gates the co nvent ion al o pinion that we
mllSt ou rselves ftel the e motions we wish to promote in othel'.i.
How arc we 10 do Ihi s, given thai emotions arc no t in ou r
control ? By forming in our mind s dea r phanla:;iai- 'visio ns' -
of a b,en t t hin~ ; th is mea n. putting to practical use the faculty
of day-dreaming and fantasy which we often em ploy in an idle
mo m,;nL From v ividn ess of vision will c:o me vividness of ex-
pression, oo(h in poe try (Quintilian qUO(CS Virgil )JO and in
oratory,
' Longin,,_,' uses th" 1t: rm phflllla5ia. nor in a ge nna l

'" cr. Philoolra(U, Lij. oj Apoll•• ,. , 6. '9 (Af,C ~5~ ).

" Stt D.J . AIl,n, Tiu l'h;I~,oph)' d 04';' /011., )~ It
,. S<hoti. 0" Hom . II. ' 4, 357- 1. Sod, da .. ific3,io", are no' "ncommon. ,\
-'''m~wh", , ;mil", <>n o, 'or """'I'r~ , ;.• "'1",,, ,·<1 .. ~ ~ < ~ "" ~: ml';"; c ", A do.
",alh_ I _26:1: k;J/o,;~ ,", ~~p"'ition <lr 'ro~ e,"~n .. ; pl~,,,,a .. inHn,ion "f (>mb •
• l>k ,'w".,; "","" '- ~ xpooi'i,"1 u( ti"ti",,> ... hi,-h ,,~w, hal'P",,«I. Thi,
m~fd)" d" .. if,n 'he ,O.UN' of van<l'" ki"d, "f li,uatore. ",i,]><>o, sa)·ing
a,,)",hing .hoo, 'he mcn'~ 1 I'f<l<c«n of 'he wri'er,
,. 6.0_"5 If. (oce Apf>Cndix , 1'. 20~ ).
JO Hi, namp! .. are all of "lO"wn" of ,,'h.. ,,-. ,ho"ld call1'~ 'h,,,, : At • .
9_H6 ('he ,holl]e .Iil" from lh~ hand, of Eo,)"al",' mo'hef ",h~n ,h. hu",
'he fum<lur of hi. death): 11 .4" (Aene.. ..eo ]'alla,' I>'ound ): 11 .119 (Ihe
100...., Aethon ""~.,,,); l<l.711~ ('he d)'ing A<ltOf'" f~mcmh. f1 hi, hom~). So
"i,·idne.. is associa,ed ..-ilh emotion. "p"ciall)' gri,f.
 CriliciIm ill Anliquity
philosophical S<!n~e, but in muc h the same way a5 Quintilian: it i5
e"en:i ~d 'when enthusiasm and emot ion make you s~~m to he
actuall y ","eing what yuu arc talking about , and when you thru st
it undenhe hearcr'5 cyC'S' ,J! But he makes a di~tinction between
' poetical' and 'rhetorica l' phanlasia: th e rhetorical kind is based
on facl. and does nOl involve eleme nts of th e supernatuI1l1 or
what we should in general ca ll ' fantasy'. Wh en Euripides ma kes
Orestes <:ry OUI at the vi, ion of th ~ Furie! -. ' they'n' coming,
th ey' re jumping up at me'- 'the poet has himself beheld the
Furies. and a lmost mad e hi s hearers see what he imagint>d'.32
Wh en he makC'S Hdi'-"! n<:rvously advbe Phaeth on how to guide
the chariot, 'the writer's sou l mounts with him , shan::'! his risks,
and takes wing wi th the horses'; it could not han' achi eved th t-sc
imag inative heights 'if it had not moved with equal pa<:e in the
course oflhose heavcll ly movemC1J!S'.
The implicatiuns of this way o f speaking of the poet's activi-
ties seem to be two: (i) he experiences a visio n ur emotional ex-
per io:n c e which d epends on hi. po • ..,osion ofa nat urat capa city,
but can he e ncouraged or indu ced ; (ii ) he reproducC'S thi~ ex-
perience in a form whic h will then induce it in others. The
notion of mimisi.! is thus sup plemented by an appeal to the
rhc torical doctrine of emo tions (PalM ); and the whole process
is coloured by the terminolog~' of 'enthusiasm', \0 which
Longinus is so m uc h addic ted.

\Ve thus S<!e. first , a broadeni ng out of the concept of ",;mis;.

from Plato to the Neoplatonists on the one hand , and to
Aristotle on the othe r. The process comes to be conceived not as
a copying of individual o bjects (as in Plato's argum ents) but
either as a refere"~'e to an idea l or as a generalised re production
o f human a<.:lion. Sccondl y, the aC(OUm of the jlQCtic process
.. t5_ 1 •
.., Thi. 3t tUS1 is ,,'hat th~ manuscript tTadition <>f' wnginW!' (t ~_~ ) giva _
11m Manut iu, cottjectuRd 'did 'I,ll ~hold', and thi s (an .as)· correction )
" 'ould mal e ' Lo nginu,' a~r .. e",,,tl y " 'ith I'hil()$tr-atu" and rel"" .. m
p"".la"o a. ~ capacity which ,.ppl"",." the 'en<d_
 MimtSis
'"
that is thus dcveloped is supp leme nted by the concept of
phal1laJia, the memal powe r that can visualise what the eye has
never seen. At this poim. writers like ·u.nginu~' and Quintilian
invok e also the rhetorical preccpt (known to Aristotle , and in-
deed commonplace) that a certain degree of emotional excile-
ment in the spea ker is ne.:essa ry for the adequate projection of
emo tion \0 ot hers.
It is natural to ask whether there are any links between this
complex of ideas and other ways in which we fmd mimi>is
terminology em ployed. There are two possible areas.
T he first rdates 10 the 'mimetic' use of language. This was
discussed in ancient theory in eormection both with word-
grouping> (figures and arrangement ) and with individua l
words a nd sounds. u.nginus shows how asyndeta a nd hyper_
bata reproduce the haste, impediment and disorder of anxious
or excited speech;" Deme trius'" and Quintilian lO make the
point that 'small words' and short cola are more expressive of
sma 11 things. Some of this th~'()rising is absurd ; but Ihe ela bor-
ate analysis b ~' D ioll}'sius of Homer's description of Ihe rock of
Sisyphus is worth careful study ..lIi Discussio n of the association
of sounds goes back perhaps to Democritus; it is a main theme
of Plato'. C,at;·/Ul ; and thc later rhetorical tradition, rep-
re.;ented by Dionys ius and Quintilian, makes a lot of it. [n
Ctal.Jius, R repr~nts movement, l:J.ecause of the trill of the
tongue; PS, X, S, PH (an aspirated P) produce a sense of
agitation: D and T, in which the tongue rests against the tee th,
display rest; the long open-mouthed vowels A and E denote
size. This kind ofthoory, uased o n ouscrva tion of the mouth and
tongue. does nOt say muc h about the aesthetic qualities of
sounds, and in this respec t it differs from the precepts com-
monl r giw:n in the rhetorical traditio n. For Dion ys ius, for
example, L is 'sweet' , R 'noble', and S disagreeable if used in
excess: ;\ 1 and N ma ke a noise like a horn; and the order of
e uphony of the vowel s is A E 0 U I - in o ther .....o rd s, the
thinner, front vowels are the least allrae li vt. 31 That poetS usc,
J.J · (.onginu,· '9,22. '" l)em~"iu, 48 .
..., Quinlili~n 8.3.20 (on Virgil". '""iguu, mu' ).
,. Sec al",,"c , Ch~p'cr IV , .
., D, ''''''(Jonl;"", ..,/00",.. I~.
", Criticism in Anliqlliry
or invent, words which reproduce or strongly suggest natural
sounds is an obvious extens ion of this way of thinking: Dio
Chrysostom discourses at length on Homer's kanachi, bombos,
JIJUPOS, and so 011.:18 So we have Iwo a pproaches to the sounds of
words: the mimetic and the aesthetic. [n the p ractice of poclS-
Virgil for example- we can see booth in use. For our present
purpooe, it is lhe mimetic that matters; Twining's 'imitation by
sound' was clead y recognised in antiquity, while Plato at least
tried to see an aCI of mimicry in the ph ysical movements which
form the leiters rather than in the resulting noise.

T he seco nd area \0 which the te rm mimiJis exte nds has at first

sig ht nu mure than an accidental connec tiun with the main
sense of the word . It is that of the 'imi tation' of earlier writers
by later. This is, in iL'itlf, very important in the history of
cri,ieisTTl. [11 classica[ Greek [iterature, Lyric poet! fulluwcd the
sto ri es, and sometimes adapted the language. of e pi c, and this
hlet was obvious an d widely recognised; morrover, the de-
velopment of the variou~ genn:s proceeded by a proc<"$ of im-
provement on existing modds, and this too was recognised, not
only for draTTla, but for fourth-cen tury oratory. When we c:ome
to Hellenistic: times, we encounter a literature which is almost
entirely 'mimetic' in this sense, deriving its inspiration not so
much from immediate pn:a ecessor; a s from much carlier
'classical' modcls. Roman literature, again, was, in most formal
respects, a reproduction of Greek. In these conditions, wha t
makes a work good or bad? It is possible \0 identify at leas!
some of the criteria " 'hich ancient critics used to distinguish
acceptable imitation from what they called 'theft' or plagiar-
iSTTl (klopi.f~rtum ) ." Th ese were, firsl, ,hal ,he copy should be
ac: knowlcdgcd as a copy and be recognisable ; second ly, that the
writer should stamp his mark on the material, and so make the
borrowing 'his own property' ; and thirdly, that what was
,. OW"" " .WII: (Append;., ['. ,8, ).
,. I ha."" di.cuoscd ,hi. in mon: detail in an asay tk ,"';lal;'" in e"al;",
'm,lalu,R a..t lAli. Lik.al.", ed. D. A. West and A.J. Woodmau, Cambridge
'979, , If.
 M imfsis I I3

imitalcd should not bcjUSl some particular feature but a sign

of a general ('"cellenee perceived in the model which could be
achieved anew in a fresh setting. The links between this theory
and the gtneralliterary th eory o rmimisis are te nuou s; but there
is an important poinl of resemblance in the insistence on the
need for general understanding of the model ralher dlan meeh·
anical or (as we might say) phOlographic copying. 1I is the
practical cril ici~m based on these principles which c" ciu:s our
inleTe,l; a fair specimen of il is CO bc found in the comparisons
of Virgil a nd Homer which ;>"hcrohius inhcriled from earlier
critics of Virgil. It is not an encouraging specimen. Macrohius
offers Iitt Ie discussion of nuances or new a rra ngement ; instead,
forced logical or fac,tual points form tbe staple of hi, cornmen t. 40
Once again , we must admit that, in an important department
of literary eva luation, the normal prac,tice ofaneienl critic~ is
quite inadequa te for the literalure they were considering. Only
·Longinus· relieves thr gloom: he makes worthwhile points about
Ihe '",imel ie' relat ionships of DenlOsthen~"S to Eupolis, Euripides
to Aeschylus, and Aratus to Homer."

"Sec (~ . ~ . ) .; . '3 .3' H'.. on Virgil"' imi,ation of Homer. descriptio" of

..., . ., "
Sirife. See al", AI'P",>di • . p. '93 If.
.ongmu, , .3' '5. ; ro_ ..
 CIIAPTER ElGIIT

Rhetoric

Til lS cha pler is concern ed nOt with the general qu es tion of th"
inAuenl'e on literature of oratory and its th eoretical coulller-
part, rhetoric, but with the more specific issue of the way in
which rh etoric affected literary understanding a nd evaluation.
[ ask not what the rhelor taug htlh e poet, but what he thought
of him. Th ese twO questions are quite distinc t. That this is a
cent ral issuc ~ hou ld be clear from much thai has been said
above; indeed, it is prell y clearl y a sa lielll distinction of all
cri ti cism dcrivcd from th e ancicIII model that the categories
and presuppositio ns employed are la rgely based on rhetoric.
By 'rhetor ic' here is meant a particular academic d iscipline,
lh e subj ect laught und er that name in Greek and Roman
schools from th e fifth century B. C . onwards. modified in medi-
aeval times, and la rgely rev ived in iL~ older form by the
humani sts.' It enjoyed remarkable stabil it y throughout the
classical millennium. If the pupils of Anaximenes in the fou rth
century B.C . could have been transported eig ht hundred years
on irno the school of Libanius, they would not have found it
enti rely strange; th e Illass of new techn ical term s and distinc-
tions to which th ei r m:w t ~achcr would have introd m:ed th em
would ha rdl y ha\-e o bscured the familiar out lin es of the basic
excrcist:s a nd lesso ns.
Like a ll educational 's ubjects', rhetoric had vague bound-
aries. On o ne fro rnier, th e rhelOr held ground in common with
the g'm~ma/i(us. Correctness of spcech-Htllinismos, iAlini/aJ-
1 Brian V;ck~ ... , C/""UQ/ RN/Oli( i~ &,/i'~ {'Miry ( ' 9]<1), ch. I, offen a
conei", hi'torieal "I,",·~ y .
 Rhetoric
is the first of the rhe torical virtues of style ; it is also o ne of the
,,'
main objec ts of the grammarian's an. T he study of the deta ils
of presentat ion and diction (choice and ar-rangcmem of woms,
and also figures ), is vital to th e: o rator ; it is also wholly within
the provin ce of the g rllm"'ll/i(us, since on e of his p rime tasks is to
interpret in detail the class ical poets who were th e staple of
education. On Ihe Olher fro ntier , the rhetor disputed terrilOry
with the philosophe r. He did this partl y out of natural expan -
sion ism, adapting simpl ifi L-d philusop hi cal Ih~jtj as exercises in
co mposition ; h ut partl y a lso as a meas ure of d efence against
t he com mo n charge th a t his art was indi flcren t, or even host;le,
\0 morality. T hese areas of interes t greatl y ex tended the
rheto r's co ncern with literature in general; and this in turn
widened the influen ce of rhetorica l thillking on the cri ticism
ofpoetr)' and other li terary forms.
Rhetoric claimed 10 leach 'pers uasio n'; th i. was ho w its
teac hers generally defined its e nd_prod uet. l T he rhetor accord.
ingl)' saw the st udy o f the poets and Olher grea t write r.; as a
means to this end. Such stud y was suppl emen tary to thoore tical
prece pt and to actual pra ct ice. In early times, it was merel y a
convenient ancillary; the pupirs ex ist ing kno wledge o f Homer
and tragedy could be put to good use in helping him to frame
a cOl wi ncing speech. I n lat er periods, ho wc\'er, in the Gree k
woriJ <II a ny TalC, genera l literary stud y hecamc even more im -
portant , because thc pupi l's cxposure to eflectivc o ratory
largel y d epe nded on his stud y of the cl assical orators, an d it was
in th eir language, not h is o wn vcmacular, that he wa s expected
10 co mpose , But the ostensible purpose of all the reading re-
mained prae t ica l, and the so rt of analysis of classical lite ra t ure
which was expec ted wa, dc tcnnincd h)' this,3 Now - as we have
.~ " - il is an in esr.apa h1e presupposi lion of rheto ri c th'lI the
speaker knows what he wants and has formu la ted to him sclf the
message he wishes to convey ; he h as now \0 be shown wha t !!)
sa y and how to say it in o rde r to attain hi s end. T he a ctivity of
composition, on th is wa y or thinking , ca nnot be regarded as a
process of self-discovery, or as an intelkct ual advel1lure
'Rhetoric i, /"ill,o., JI",jm,'I.', ',na""fact urcr of persua,ion': Pla,o
Co,!.,,., 4.'i3A (:Itt E. R. Dodd, ' DOle); Quin,ili." ~ -' 5 . 4 If.
' Cf abo,·~. o,apler I :1.
,,6 Criticism ill Alltiqlliry
embarked upon in ignorance of illl end. In a sense, everything has
to be settled before you put pen to paper. The content and fonn
of the speec h depend on a preliminary assessmen t of the situa-
tion and of the character and attitudes of the persons who have
to be convinced. Any 'analysis of literature undertaken as part
of rhetorical instruction has therefore 10 expose the workings of
the writer's mind on these lin es. This is a si mple matter when
the object under examination is, for example, a speech in
Homer or V irgi l, and it is this kind of material to which the
rhetorical critic is specially attracted. We S~ this attitude in
Quintilian '~ discussions of Homer, Euripid e!! and Aristo_
phanes; and there are good examplC$ of'practica l criticism' of
the Same kind in the later pseudo- Dionysia n treatises on
'fig urative discourses', and many echoes of il in the ancient
commentaries on Homer and Virgil.· The critic who reads and
comments in this way necessarily cons iders the situation, the
m~llw. or h~fHJ/hais, which the epic poet or dramatist has set up,
,.. oomething given, and not itJlCtf no rm all y to be cr;ticised-
just as the inventor (fo:/OT) of a ccm/1Qllrfrill is normally not to be
blamed for the foolishness of pupils' answeTll to the problem he
has sct. So the kind of critique of plot on grounds of coherence
and appropriate ending which Aristotle practises in the POdia
is aOsent from the rhetorical mode of critici sm.
Btl! of course it is not only lhe speeches in epic or drama
which are susceplible to the rhetor's procedures. Narrative too
i.\ a technique studied by rh etors: darity, orderliness and the
capacity to convince by an allractive, well-contrived- and
perhaps dishonest-tale are qualities which rhetorical teaching
naturally so llght to develop. H istory is thus easily drawn into
the orbit of rh etoric, especiallY sin ce the composition or
formal speeches had been com monly held to be a necessary part
of the historian's work since the time of Thu cydides. The
analysis of T huc ydides by Dionysi lls, able as il is, is ..cry little
concerrwd with historical research.! AI the same time, th e third
main divi$ion of oratol)·- the 'epideiclic' or 'panegy ric' kind ,
the o ratory of praise and blame- easily embraced the subject-
• Some c.a'TIl'lco bel<>w. Appendi., p. '93.
'W . K. PritchcH, Diq•.J';."" O. Hwt;,JjJ<j ('975 ) gi ,'co a , ·cry ful l
comment .. )· and t .. mtation.
 Rht/{Jric "7
mau er of most lyric poetry, lor whic h indeed it was, historicall y
speaking, a substitute, The extre me point of this development
can be see n in Hermoge nes, tur whum the term ' panegyric' has
come to indude history, philosophy and poe try.6 In the end,
therefo re, the rh elOT'S look all literature as their province, and
encouraged the kind of ana lysis and criticism that suited their
purpose. Th is was to the detriment of aesthet ic judgmem, and
mo re o r less hloc ked the wa}' to a historical view ofliterature,
With the moralists - and a ncient edu ca tion was essentially
moral - rhewric maintain ed a complex rela tionship: o n the
defensive kost she be thou gh t amoral, she presented herself
mo re and more as the guard ian not on ly of pure and effec tive
language bu t of the highest moral values of the past.

,
How did all this co me about ? It was gene rally belie\"(:d in the
tim e of Aristotle that rhetorical teaching had b.:gun in Sicil y,
in the aftermath of the fall of the fifth-century tyrannies in
Syracuse and other cities. Democracy brought much litiga tion
and political speaking; this in turn brr.d a demand for effec tive
instruct ion in th e skills uf speech, un whic h propeny and life
mi ght depe nd. Cora:.: and Tisia., were rem e mbered as famou s
tcache"l and innovalOrs, thou gh linle is know n of their doc-
trine. An earlier and more famous Sicilian, Ih e Jlhilosophcr
Empcdoeles, was believed by Aristolle to be the first in ventor;
a later one, Gorgias of Lcontini, is credited with the first teach-
ing of th e art at Athens. T his last story is false , or at best a
partial truth; bu t Athens, with its democracy and its jurr-
courts, was the na tural scene for the rapid grow th or the
techni que. It is clear from the earl iest ex tant oratory, that of
Antiphon, and from many fea tures in Thucydidt"S, Euripides
and Ari sto phanes, that j ufO"l, as.."",bly"'en and Ih eatre_
audiences a ll appreciated " certain professionalism. At iL~
lowest level, this amoull ted 10 set forms of exordium and perora-
tion. a recog nit ion of the importance of the occasion and th e
courtesr due to the hc'Hers. Dicacopolis, the ' hero' of Aristo-

,.
• Hnm<:>g<na On I.>l'" ~04,:' ~ I Ral ... (.-/ LC :'7:' r. ). cr, bdo"'. Chapter I X
,,' Crili(iwz in Antiquity
phanes' Adulnriall.<, is made to address his fdJow..;ilizcns with a
(llptDlW bc<nmmlw borrowed from Euripides; 1 he proceros 10 a
recognisable prologue and narrative, raises and answers o b-
jections, and builds up his picture of the situation in a passage
lhal could serve as a text-book exampl e of what th e rhelO~
called ' amplification' (auxisis). If we can infer from this that
political speet:hes in lhe 4205 were habitually using th ese forms
- spea king, as Aristotle would say, rhilori/;os rather than
polilikiil'- it would follow that the corresponding leac hing was
known well before Gorgias' arrival in 42 7. Assoon as these tech-
niques became common, spea kers in the courts often found it
necessary to disclaim special abili ty (dtj"Q/is ), as they would
disclaim any ot her unfair or 'undemocrati c' advantage, such
as wealth or family. It always helps one's case to appear to be.
fighting the superior advantages of a privileged adversary.9
Rhetoric thrived on the hostility it excited. What is believed to
be formidable is also believed (0 he important; and the un·
doubt~-.:Ily frau dulent Glaims of the ' an' were sustained by the
convention offcaring the advantages it was supposed to co nfer.
For everyone knew that the gift of pel"Suasion was a natural
one, and its exercise too subtle to be reduced to rule. lsocrates
makes it clear that practice and natural endowment are no less
important than precept, and even the best rules are made to be
broken if occasion (kairos ) so d ema nds. 'o Cicero alien breaks
the sim plest rules of arrangement becausc of the forensic situa-
tion. In fact, the history of rhetoric kno,,""S on ly one noted
mru;ter whu dcliberntcly set himself against irrcgularitiCli of
arrangement: this was the Apollodorus of Pergamum who was
one ofOclavian's teachers and is said to have insisted on rigid
adherence to the scheme uf proot':mium, narrative, argument
and epilogue. His successors refuled or neglected him. Why he
, .~{As",id'" 417 If.
'Pf)<liu 14,';" 7.
os.,.,. e.g .. L).. i.. 1~ . 3. '7 . 1. 19'~' It b«~m. stand ard advie<: that 1M
orator .houtd. in hi. 0JlCning, represenl him.df as w.ak, unl'rtpared or un_
"'l"at 10 hi. ad,·.","".." _,.~" ,~im /ttl,.,./i. fa"", p,ol.lXN.nlib., (Quinlil. 4.' .8----g).
L. So lsocrates ... y. ( I ~-33) : . [ JlCr~.i,', Ihal I am going beyond the I'ropor·
lions pre>cri bcd for I'roo<:mia. lIuI .. Ie... iblc man oughl nol to I>c co" .. nt
jun with haL'ing mo •• than an)'on~ die to ... y a bout a giHn subj«:l, but, in
ony .ubj<:(;t. to k«p hi. cy. On opportunity (tLt1'~i'i~):
 RhtlQric [ [9
took this stand - if he really did - remains uncertain. Perhaps
it was a reaction ag'linst dIe freer spirit ofCice mn ian rhetoric,
perhaps a coutlierpart in the sphere of invent ion and arrange_
melll !U COlllem p!>r" ry 'At tieist' ins istenc., On puri ty orlanguage,
perhaps merel y an attempt to justify the claim that rhctori e
was a scie nce (.piiliml) not . imply an art (ItChlli), In any ca •."
it was an eccentric view."
Yet rhetoric was always a rigorous discipline. It had arisen
in a period of un paralleled inquisitiveness a nd dou bt. It e n-
cou raged hard thinking, verbal and logical ingen uity, and
shrewd psychol ogical ohservation. In its long cen lUriC'! of arid
scho lasticism, it ne\'er 'luite lost its edge _ It is the refore some-
thi ng of a misunderstand ing when writers on allcient lite rature
treat the inlluenr.e of the rhetor ical «: hool5 as e nt irely negative
and destruc tive. T he mista ke, now less commOn than it was,
<:nmes partly from la king PI"to\ polemic as a decisive condem-
nalion, partly frorD rcgarding rh etoric ilS basica lly an art of
verbal embellishmen t, not of reaS<)ning _ I t is obvious thaI
rhelOrical teaching hel ped to shape the work of many o f the
grea t pox ts and his torians of antiquity, and that Ihis forma ti\'e
influence was also an inhibiling one; but both the good and the
bad in all this were du e less to rhetor i c'~ concern with the
ornaments of speech than to the ralion al framework which she
sought to impose on whate,"er them e Or top;'; was handed he r
for treatme nt.
3

T he conser\'a t ism of rhctoriCid t(a,-,hing OV<:T sucl, " long p<:riod

makes it possihle to gi\'e an a<:oount Qf il as a sysu:m, ba_<;ed on
the late text. books wh;';h \Urvi.-e, without feding tha I nne's
e<-mel usiolls ,,,"<:: likely to be ru ndamen tall y wrong for the ",,,'Iier
period_ Quimilia" is und oubtedly the best guide, the
'Ariadne's thread' through the la byrin th, as R ichard Vol k_
mann said in his st ill unreplaced survey of Ihe whole tield ."
"cr, al>o"~, o,apu. tV 7-
"RA'MiA "n G,i«h", ud RImu •• , cd , ~ (,885) ~, "i : 'Einen c<wYII",I"ell
Aria<lncfaMn ill de", k",us<n Gewi",: .helOri.d,er Ikgriffe ulld " ""'tau,·
drlide: Thc m:.", co",pitallom of Lau.slxrg and Manin com. now h...
near Vol krnam, 's sane and ~Iert undcnlanding of Ihe whole .ubj«:I ,
 Criticism in Anliquiry
""The classical di vision of the subject reflects a poim 10 which
I ha ve already drawn attention more than on ce: the assump-
tio n that content and linguistic form are quite separate.
' Things ' we re the subject of thaI part of the discipline of
rhclOric whi ch was called 'invention ' (invmtio , hturtsis), and
embraced the procedurCl! for 'discovering' what may usefully
Ix: said in a given situation. ' Word s', o n the ot her ha nd. were
stu died sepa rately, under the lWO main heads of 'choice' and
'a rrangement ' . The concep ts of 'arrangement' and 'figuu'
could dearl y be applied both 10 'things' and 10 'words'; and
il was in th e discussion of'figu res' of thoug ht and ofs peech \hal
th e rhe torical tradition came neares t to admilling that the two
depanm",nts w CT'" not really ~eparable . AU these dements of
the art depended on memory for their retention a nd effecti ve
use, and o n delivery (actio, lIuJI6krisis) for the ir a cceptabilit y to
th e audience. SQ a comprehe nsi ve course in rhelOric- as we
can see in Quinti!ian's Imtilulio, a sort of teacher's manual -
cove red fi ve main subj ec lS : invention, anange menl , diet;..,n,
delivery, memory.
T he ' things' of which the orator had to trea t might be either
'definite' or ' indefinite'. A teacher like Quintilian envi sages hi~
pupil, as practising both types of them e: not only ' Is M anlius
aiming at tyranny?' bu t 'Is the world governed by providence?'
And whate" e' th e su bj ect, ce rtain b asic q uestions are the sa me:
in order to develo p this general theme we need to a sk, for
example, wh ether prov idence exists, what it is, and what sort of
thing it is. Beyond this, th e pro<:edure de pend s largely on the
purpose o f th e speec h, tha t is to say, on whether it is fo rensic,
deliberative o r 'e pideictie'. ' Epide ictic' subjects involve both
the actions of the penons praised O f b lamed and their con-
sequences ; the speech will be mainl y concerned with the anti-
thclical topic. of ' honour' and 'exped iency'. In deliberati ve
ora tory, we have to engag e not on ly in these questions bu t in die
quest ion whether the proposed course of action is feasi bleor not.
Obvio usly, stud y o f th e characterist ics of the audi ence is parti-
cularly important , since th e outcome rests on enli sting their
sympat hy. This is true also of forensic cases; but these ma y be
much more complicated, for th ey may involve the organisation
of man y different debating topic~ into a single whole , di rected
 Rhr/olic ",
to the ach ievement of the very specific goal of an acquitta l or a
convi ction. Forensic oralQry is thus seen as the nowll of the
who l<: al·t : the massi,'" I"r" nsi" ' ""cdl"s of O" "'<Js lh"",~.
Acschines and Cicero are the dominant moods, to be st udit'tl
and analysed in deta il. I t is therefore to forensic speeches that
Ihl:' funJ a ml:'ntal analysis into partS beSt applit"S, This a nalysis
g0e') ba ck to tb e early d ays of rhe toric , 1.1 and , despite wm ~ vaci l-
la tion oftcrminology, never changed in its essenti a ls. T here arc
alwilYs five milin parts to a speec h: exordium to co nciliat e the
juryman , nil rra ti ve 10 instrucI, proof 10 eslilblish you r CilSC,
refula li on to o"ert hrow thaI of your opponents. a nd perorati on
to refres h the memory or excite th e appropriate emot io n - pity
or in d ignation, as the r,ase ma y br, .
Th e most elaborat e branch o f the doc trine of ,invention ' , the
theoryof status or slasis I4 - ' iss ue', 'standpoin t' - also arises from
fo rens ic considerations, and pri maril y from the prob lems of
delendants. T here are traces of it as early as Antiphon"s
Trlra/ogifJ , hut th e main authority was the Hellenistic leache r
Hermagoras, 15 until his work was rep laced hy tlu: more
elaborate systems of the Roman pe riod. Essentiall y, Ihe teacher
aimed to suggest to his pupil a wa y of cl assifying the pro blem
presented tn him , Thus:

(i) I f the matt er a t i"s u<: is uncertain- that i, 10 sa}" , if there

is a q uestioll o f fact - th e case falls under th e Sia /us cOll/fe/utali,
(s/fKhasmOf). Suppose a man is discovered bu rying a corpse in a
lo nel y place, and is a ccused of murde r. We ha ve to discover
what actually happened.
(ii) But Ihe facts Ill ay he clear : it ma y he quite cenain thaI
he ki lled the man . \\'e must then ask whether h is actio n fa !ls
under th e definition of murder, and was not , fo r example,
humic ide committed in self-defence. T his is the sia/us dffi"ili(:w.
(hcrismus)•
" It i. ""~n auribul<d to Corn (/"",,{,,,,,,,,.;;. !J1I~Ki 67.3 Ra t.e - Rad,,·
macher . ..I,liu", ,,,,pl.,,,, • " i l.
"C. S. Kold"" ;n, A.(i,., R"-""i( ~.d /'''',,,, 49 If., 74 Fr., gi\',," • u><:ful
,ummary in English. Soc also Kennedy, A,'.! P"'.aJion in (,',<t«. 300 fr. ;
,' tarlin ~B If.; Vol kmann 3~~: M. Lo..au, Unlt"",h""K(1I {"' .-1.1;((11
D"""'hm...x.g.... I I 1 W Quinlilian 3.6 o W. " hi, . Ariad ne'. Ih",ad· .
•, Soc ab,-,,"<, ChapleT 11 1, n. H .
 Crili!ism i~ Antiqui!J
'"
(iii ) II may indeed have ocen murder - but all the same il
may have right: the victim may have been a would-be tyrant.
So we haH to as k afte r the quality of the act- was it just or
expedient or nOl ? T his is th e 5Ial~~ qualilali~ (~I(llis poiolilos).
(iv) And finally, in d espair as it were, the defendant may
plead Ih"llh" coun i. nOI compet ent: th is is the SI4I'<$ Iramla-
Ii.·us (mtlalipsis) .

Man y other terms and refinements arc found and rhet ol1l en-
gaged in stirring cont roversy over them. We neL-d not dwell on
them here, for this kind of thi ng, however mu ch it enco uraged
shrewd ness in the a nalysis of sit uat io ns, has lillie bearing On the
cri ticism o f poetry o r non- rhetorical prose.
Thl""SC maltel1l of 'invention' occupy the centra! books of
Quintilian'$ b l$lilulio; it is his su mmary that has guided us so
far. From Book VIII oll"'aros, he COncerns himself wilh slyle,
which he regards as both a more difficult a nd a more necessary
su hj cct .•6 SI yliS\ ic failu re, not fa ilure in a.-g um cnl al ion, has, in
Quin tilian's view, produced the canupla doqut~tia aga inst
which he i~ ca mpai gn in g. Fro m our present standpoint, it is
ve ry interesting that a teacher of rhetoric should say this. It
SL"<:mS to be characteristic of the imperia l period. Rh etoric, in
QUintilian's hands, is evidellll~' no longer a purely vocationa l
train ing; it has acquired much of the eha raet ("'f of a general
literary erluca tio n, wi lh a ~Iron g e th it::al e lemen t, and it seeks to
impart a type oflilcrary taste a nd prac tice which reflects sound
moral alii tudes. This is not done, howeve r, by confining the
student to books of acknowledged mora l va lu e, for that would
not fit in a t all with the co re of the curriculum, the rhetorical
masterpieces occasioncd by the chicaneries and eva~ions of an -
cien t At hcn ian assemblies a nd courlS. Instead, it is done by
drawing the p upil's attention above all to style, and associating
stylistic 'good' a nd 'barl' with moral qualities. So it is not o nl y
th e st udy ofhistorit::al events and pel1lonalities, but even more
th e fo rmal stud y of classical writin gs, that becomes the main
ve hicle of mo ral indoctrination. Thi..cons idcration pcrhapsalso
hel ps one to Und Cr1l1and ' Longin u'.

'· 81', . 13·

 RlulM;e " 3
4

We shall return to style later. '\'Ieanwhile , there are still some

points 10 be made abo Ullhe ways in whic h the theoryof 'inven+
tio n' mig ht a tfl:ct thl: a ppreciation and und erstanding of the
poets.
These points arc perhaps mos t clearl y made by adducing
examples. [ select fi rs t o ne which illustrat es the wa y ill whi ch
the expectatio ns aro used by rh eto ric al tear-hing a hout the ~ hapc
a nd fo rm o f a speech affected th e judgme nt passed o n poe m~.
Quintilian's fam ous chapter on authors to he imita ted cOn-
tains :t part ic ularl y elabora te di sc ussio n of Ho me r, Ihe uni.
vl:rsa l geni us a nd 'invent ur of rhe tori c', in who m a ll virtu es can
he seen. Here , Honlt:r;, all eged 10 be ca pa ble bo th o f ell:vation
whe n the su bj ec t r~'<]uires it, and of' proprie ty' wh ere eleva tion
is OUI o f place. This is a n Aris to telian tou ch: the poet's
language must ",: ver be 'low' , even when his theme is a n evcry-
day one. Ho mer in fact com hines in himsclf tile capac it y for the
mos t diven;e qualities : ri ch",:ss as well as compression, cha rm
as well as gra vit y, a bu nda nce as wel l as concbe ness. Natu rall y,
he is a mod el fo r the kinds o f e pideic tic di scourM: wh ic h one
m ight expect to Hnd in poe try; but he ca n also teac h d elibera-
tiv~ and fo rensic skills. Willl ts~ the Embas, y in Iliad IX and the
debat ~-s in Iliad n. He has a co mprehensive range abo in
emot ional lOn e, ~'n~ompassi ng bo th palM, Ihe stronger emo-
tions , and i lki , the mil de r Ira its of mann ers. In 'Longinu_~' ,
tht:st: twO qua lilies art: attribut ed [0 the Iliad a nd the Odyssry
rcspec tivc ly; Qui nt ili a n a pparent ly ma kes no such distinc tion ,
a nd a II his e xa mples arc Iliad ic. He proceeds t he n to enumera Ie
the trad itional five ' pans o f a speec h' and to show how Ho m",
"ffer.. mod el .. of a ll. In th is he d"u ht les, f"llo ws a n ~" l a hlis hed
tra dition fo r the prai se of Ho mer 's prolog ues is \0 be seen ;!Iso in
Horace,17 th oug h Quinti lian gi ves it a more cun "enti nnal turn.
Home r, he says, illustrat es to perfect ion th e rul e that the pro-
log ue m ust ma ke th e hearer btnevo{um aI/til/urn doei/mi , well-
disp<»;ed, ale rt a nd read y to learn. T he virtu es of na rrative
- vividncs~ and conciseness- are also perfectly illustrated by
"4 Critici= j~ AntiqUl!J
such incidents as the death of Palroclus and the battle of Ihe
Curetes and Aetolians. The value of his argumentation - the
next main point-is proved, Quintilian thinks, by the fre-
quency with which technical wrilers draw on him for examples;
and finally no epilogue could ever equal the prayers of Priam
to Achilles. IS
Th is e ncomium is a tour-de-force; it i. m"'ant as a serious en-
couragement to th e young orator to go back 10 the readingofhis
childhood , and look at it afresh in the light orhis adult needs.

M y second example i. of a diffe ren t kind . It concerns not the

parts or elements of a speech o r a poem, nor the ~tylistic
qualities, but what is called the 'figure' ($Chima) ; Ihe question
al issue is the rela tionship betwee n prim afacie form and under-
lyi ng purpose. T eachers of rhetoric were as wc have already
observ"d ".pecially int"reot"d in ,h" compl"xi,y of,h"ITl" to be
fo und in forensic speeches. Analysis of the purpose and exec u·
tio n of the famous orations of antiquit y, especially th ose of
DeITlosthcnes, was a favourite pu rsu it of the schools ; and the
kind of analysis which was developed could be easily extended
to othn branches of literature. There was, for exampl e, con-
siderable d chate about what were called 'fig ured ' speeches (logoi
uchimatismtnoi), in which the ostensible intention of a pie.:::e
could be he ld to be different from the real olle : Dcmosthenes'
D tcQTllna, for instance, was not only ad efellce in cou rt , but a lsoa
deliberative and e nco ITl iastic oration , and th ese h.lIe r aspects
were in some ways morc important than th e nOITlinal purpose.
It was clearly possible to a pply this sorl oflechniquc to 000-
oratorical lite rature. A late rhe tor -one of the authors of the
Art oj R!utor;( anributed \0 Dio o~ius, though not the aut hor of
the chapte rs on declamation to which I drew a ttention in
Chapter l - coITlpmed two short m :atises on ' figured speeches'
(logo; tschimatismeno;), in which he spec ul ated in quite interes t_
ing ways on the whole subject. H is analysis of a play of

" '0. I _
.6If, (In C 387 f.J. ' r all"clu,' death · ;. the beg inning of I/. 18, 'the
b.ttle of Cur"t", and AelOtia",·. fl. 9..... ' 9 If.
 Rhtloric "5
Euripides, Mtlallipln Iht Wiot IVoma~ , illUSlrates his method. '9
I n I his, he sa)'S, there are two figures (schlmala), one of Ihe poel' s,
and the other Ihe eharaCler to.lclanippe's_ Eu ripid es, being a
pupi l of Anaxagoras, wished 10 present Ihal philosopher' s
vi ews on creation to the public. H e does so in a speech of
,\Idanippe, and 'covertly conveys' (ainilltlai) his respec t for
the doctrine and his leacher by mak ing M danippe prt'faee he r
exposition by saying
'Not mine Ihe lale- I had it fmm my mother.'
T his is a sign 10 Ih e audio;nec, it appears, that the doctrine is
verll'rable. At the same lime, the character Melanippc is herself
employing a 'figure'. She has exp.osed her ch ildren (who are
Poseidon 's) in her f,'\lher's co ....shed, and Ihey a rc tound being
suck led b y a cow and gu arded by the bull. H er father lakes Ihis
as a supernatura l event, d ecides 10 burn the children, and o rders
her 10 prepare them for d ea th. T o save Iheir lives. she d e mo n-
stratcs scientifIcally lhat nO miraele has ta kcn place; SO . he
accom plishes her end nOl by a direct plea but by Ih is 'scie ntific
discourse in didaCti c form ' . The o rator, it would appea r, ca n
lea rn from Ihis also ; he need nO! PUt f<)rward hi s (;a<;e direc tly,
but ma y let convic tion comc ofils own accord from what appears
on Ihe suri"ce to be dis<:oursc of a different kind .

In a noth er p:u~a ge, ~ little later on, th e ~a ",,: rhet or links

Xenophon wilh Homer. zo H is lext iSl he passage in th e Anabasis
..... here the Greek soldiers come 10 suspect that the exped ition is
against th e King, and are ullwilling 10 go further. Their general
Clearchus undertakes 10 deal with Ihis si tuat ion . He addresses
thcm , promisi llg to follow the .oldi ers e"crywherc, but a rg uing
for Ih e necc&<ily of staying wh~ re th ey are _The rhelOr nOl ices
Ihe sim ilarit y bet ..... een Ihis and the sce ne in Homer wh ere

•• [Diolly.iu'l A., .MIO,,'(Q 8. I0, 3o!l":i Ir. U""n." R arlcrma~her_ Cf E".ip.

fro~80 It !\"auck.
"' I bid. 8.", 3'0.7 If. The refcr"nc~ is 10 A""ba,i; 1.:\.3-6. a nd Iliad
9434- S23·
,,6 Gri/ids", in Antiquity
Pho.:nix asserts that he will go where Achill es goes, and can no t
be separated from him, this being part of Pho.:nix's attempt to
~rsuade Ach illes not to leave the army. 'Nominally he shows
wh y h e h;mse!fmUSl sta y, but in fact he is asking Ihe return of
the favours he did Achilles in rearing and educating him, and
also doing a favour to Agamemnon.' Sint:e Achilles answers thi s
by saying
'00 not break m)' hear! with your grief and complai nings,
Doing Agamem non a fa,'our"
he shows that he has s~n through Ph oeni x's device. T his means
that H omer- once again the rhclOrs' master - has leI us also
see what is happening: he 'reveals the an of the first spea ker in
the speeches of the res pondents' _
Such discussions, not uncommon in ancient commentaries on
Hom er, arc diffic ult to follow unl ~ one reads the texts closely ;
but they are undoubtedly acute and, within thdr limitations,
must have helped to . harpe" thc pe rceptions of the reader.

7
What Homer was to the Grcl'ks, Virgil becamc to the Roman s.
H is commentators adopted similar tcchniques. Thus, when
Juno begs Aeolus to raise a ~torm and wreck Aene a-!' nee!,
promising him the nymph Deiopea in rctum,l' this i~ seen as an
illustration of a rule of'invelllion': if you make a request, it must
be within your power, just and reasonable and yuu mu~t offer
remune ration. Again, things are sometimes found in the poet
which appear to go against the usual rhetorical rules. When
Aeneas, II in the middlcofhis narrative of the Sack of T roy, cries
'Alas ! It is wrong for anyone to trust the gods againstlheir will'
the cO'llmentator offers an c"cuse. Normally, a general ~tate­
ment with no reference to the special circumstances would be a
fault. But here it is appropriate. It applies to Ihe captivity of
Cassandra, shortly to be mentioned: she had trusted in her
position as priest~, and is to be brutally dtteived. It also
serves as an argumelll to show that the Trojans could not have
"A,Mid 1.6S, with Sc,,,iu,' commen t.
"Atuid ~.40".
 "7
won however bravely (her fought; and AC IH;a s' narrative of
defeat needs this if he is !O maintain his pres tige as a fighting
man.
Comments on th~ actual form of S pC~dl L-S are a lso commo n.
T here is a very beaulil'ul and moving speech of Anna to Dido
nca r the b" g inning or th e fourth book of the ,\cn eid , in whi.;h
she delicately urges her sisler lowards marriage with Aeneas.1J
Sen.·jus· rhetorical comment is unusually detailed. He rega rd s
Ihe speech as a com p lete JuaslFria, in which the spea ker r(moves
objectio ns to the proposed coufSe of aClio n, d emonstrates ils
c"p.:d ieney (hOllO ur hardly comes in !), and pre5.".'S the <;<1.'1<: hy
an appeal \0 fear. He points OU! that Anna begins by de mon-
strating her love of her sisler-
o dearer [0 )"our sis tf f tha" th~ day -

and the n proceeds at o nc e to the hear! of the mail er. \\' ha t

follows is a ve r y close an a lys is, following a set form of approach :

Then she ta kes up the ,-,,1'ioo5 aSpttlS of lhe question : (i) Dido's
personal ily : shou ld she take another husband hecau.,e she has l05t
one ? '00 you thin k ashes ~ nd buried spirits ca re for lhis?" (ii) Aeneas'
personality: 'Will you figh t c,-cn a love you li ke ?' (iii) l'la~e : '00 you
not consi der in whose coo ntry ~-ou have >C lIled ?' (i ,-) Fear: 'Why
$hou ld I tell of wars rising out of T yre and your brother'S menaces?'
(v) Expediency: 'Whal a ci ty will )'OU beh old here !' (vi) Method:
' Extend his wekome, make reason, for dday .' (vi i) (,.onjnture "bout
tile gods' intent ion : 'I Ihink it is ",it h the gods' f"vour . " that his
$hip' came (hi, way.'

Som~",ha t simil ar is t he discussion of Aen eas' reply 10 Did o

later o n in the sam e bookY T hi s is ill H!rmS of slalus t heor y:
Ae neas uses the status of exc use (s/atus vellialis),"' putting the
respons ibility I(,r his departure o n th e gods, bill it a lso involves
a ]XIi"t of 'definition': he remOveS the objeclio n thaI he is
'running away' by ca lling il 'de panure' , We know that cu tai n
teac hers of rhetoric, by name T i[ianus and Ca!vus, pe r haps in

." J '1.3' n·,

" ","t!"
2< Amtld ~. 3~3 tl'.

" For Ihi. >«, <,g" Hcrlllogcn •• 39, ' , : 7~ , ~ Rahc ; Hahn Rl, _11 93, 3' If.
( t'orlUllaliallu,) ,
,,' Crilicism in Anliqui!y

the semnd century .... D.. used Virgil extensively in their

leaching. and we re partic ularly co ncerned 1<) illustrate Slolus
thCQry from him. 26
R estrictive ;and mec h;l1lica l as much of il is, such criticism
had a long history. It persisted in th e R enaissance com-
mentari es, and es pecially in the great and influential work of
the Jesuit La Cerda.» Somet hing like it is commun in modem
ana lys~ of classical texts ; and the technique. of the ancients
still have something to teach .

.. x...;", (lfl AmtiJ f.'0.'

" Fim puWish«l Mad.-id ,608.
 CIlAPTER ..... II<[

Theories of Style
,
A.'fCIEII1T thoories of style grew up almost entirely in the con-
text of a certain kind of rhetorical instruction, or perha ps om:
should say philu!IOphical rhetoric . T he third book of Aristotle's
Rhf/or;{, :md the lo,t work of his pupil T heophrastus, represent
the earliesl attempts 10 set out till: principles. One of our mos t
important !IOU rces, t he surv iving trea lise of Demet rius, is in the
>;amc Iradit ion and has ,\ SI rong Pcripa letic st rain in it, Stylistic
theory was of course of general litera ry conr.ern and dealt with
poct~ as wel l as with prose-writers ; but it is important to remem_
ber that its origins were rhetorical, and its purposes primarily
norma live rather than descriptive. Its Illost elaborate a",hie"e-
ments, such as the refined soph istries of H crmogcnes, are
manifestly part of the rhetorical teachi ng programme of an
archa ising age,
'Style' is a term of which any critic must formulate his own
definition , in accordance with Ihe needs of his own way of
ta lking about literature, But however it is used , il implies a
con trast with an clement of content, and the assumption that
the message might theore tically at least have been conveyed in
some other way _ The mon: soph ist icated the thL>Ory, and the
more attention it pays to p<lt;try a, o p posed to ordinMY speech,
the kss dear this distinction becomes, and the less certa in it
sC(:ms that one can really talk about the matter of a piece of
discourse without the 'style' that gi\"~s it form. In antiquity, a
fairly naive vie..- of these mallers prevailed. This accords with
the duminant assumptiun that the rhetorical usc of language
was to communicate a known message, and that poetry was
mimetic only and so secondary to the n~al world.
'30 Criticism in Antiquity
Whal t he Greeks called luis, ph'Mis Of htrlllin.i~ , the Romans
o:alled diclio o r docutio: Ihey mea nt, quite simply, the verbal
dress of thoughL Th e metaphor commonly used to express the
relation was indeed that of clothing or orn a ment. l T h is wail no
doubt simplc.m inded. Bu t it is not true that ancient writen
saw no difficulty in the matt er ; on the contrary, the incon-
veniences of fixing a frontier between the l.ktikoJ lo/I'Js and t he
pragmalik05lopos were often fell. The complexities orthe doctrine
of 'figures' are ev id ence of that. And i\ is rertainly {cue of
Dem etrius and H ermogenes, and indeed of , Long in us' and
Aristid cs and the whole tradition which they represent , that
Ihey do not think of I.xis a s a wholly independent thing. All
Ihese wrlten agree in denying, in their praoice, that the
charaklires logon (' types of discourse' ) are wholly definable in
terms of vocabulary and word-order. Content comes into it
also. To achieve a cenai n effect, the writer need s to control his
choice of thought , his handl ing, his figur"" and finall y his dic_
tion ,,,,d his arrangement. The re i. a good deal of unde ... tand-
ing, in practice, of the organic (onnection between form and
content. Th is con nection is indeed seen in term s of the doctrine
of decorum, an d of the assumption that 'gn:at word s suit grea l
Ihings, and little words little things'. I suggcstcd above 2 Ihal
this was somethi ng which se riousl y limitoo the power of the
ancient critics to see their literature clearly. It did however
save them from an op posite error, to which their highly verbal
culture might well be thought prone, namely the eval uat ion of
literature solely by the quality and harmony of its words.
There are two general obse rvatio ns which may be useful in
helping to define the characte ri stics of the ancient doctrine uf
I(xis, and to clear it or some associations which attach to the
modern term 'style' but are not relevant 10 ancient wa ys of
t hinking. The fi rst is that these terms lexis and ph rasis, 11;</;0 and
t!ocul;o show no metaphorical extension at all; the English
word 'style' by contraSt, though originally just the characteristic
• So Quintili.n 11.1 .3, on inappropri ate Slyk : . Men "'ould , imil.rly be de-
fomle<:! by nccklac.. and pea rl. and long drc$OQ, ,,·hich adorn "'omen; nor
would the robe of the "iumplulw,. Ih" which one can think of nothing more
aug"". >,,;. ""men: W. ohould re"<all al.., .he ~"""'" .p.o. of ikmoeri.us
(abo". ' Chapltr V 3).
' Chap«r [ 3-
 Thc&ritS &J SI)'lt , 3'
mO\'t:mcnt of tht: pt:n, f:xtcnds, in co mmon usage, tn all sons of
ac!ivities. 3 ' Style of life' is a metapho r unthinkable in Gree k or
Latin. Secondly: 'style' in modern usage is very much an indi-
vid u;ol rna Iter. We thi nk of it as a kind of finger-print, uniq uc to
every individual, and interes tingl y unique to eve ry interes ting
individual. Something like this is of COUTSe fOllnd in antiqllity.
Th.: style of a grea t exa mplar, Lysias or D.:mosth.:tlo, is
naturall y called the ' Lysian ' o r ' Demosthenic ' (horak/iT. The fac t
that sensitive criti cs sometimes felt SUTt: enough 10 identify
authOn< by thdr style points the s;O"'O; wa y. Vet the maxim. lotiS
orat;o qualis Villi, a wa v of sayiug th a t 's peech re([ crts life', ' ocerns
to b~ of a differo;n t appli ca tion altogethn. It ass.:m that specr h i,
an indication of the moral charact eristics of the spea ker, marking
not his individuality, but his type , This is in accordance with th e
general a ncien t view of character, as we see it for exa mpl e when
w.: obs.:rve the biographies of Plutarch and th e wa~'S in wh ich
th ey di ffer from th e individualised biographies of mod em times; l
th ere is not hing surprising in finding th is atti tude prt'valem \Il
views of IiteTatuTC as well as in views of life and morals.

,
A word of warning is also no;ef:l;sary. \ Ve a re vt:ry re mOt e from
these [a"g uag~"', a nd o ur St;n.l ibilitks, howe"cr r,a rcfull y
train ~-d, a re very imperfect. We ha ve therefore often to take it
for gra!lt~d th a t word s aCluaUy madt: the impres.~ion they are
said by our sources to make. 1\"ow th is is no t at all a safe assum p-
tion ; Hermogenes lived ftve centuries after De mos then cs, and
he (like the rcst of the rhe toTS ) was in hu siness to gi"e co nftdent
j udg men t" eve n if th ey wHe n()[ .. [wa rs I.",.~ed On " ~o u"d !len,;.,
of the class ical la nguage. Consequently, the discrimination of
styles ill Creek a nd Latin, une of the main achit;\"t;mentS
cl"im t;d by Ihe critit;S of a nti,]uily, is easie r 10 ad mire than to
evaluate.

' X E.D . S." . "l'Ie 111 .<)-,.>6 gi,'C'S" range nf m~I"phoricaI e>len, ion •.
' cr. abo\"<, Chapl<r TV 5.
'5« D. A. R U<>ctl. l'l.r."h. " •• If.; and II. lIuc her· \st ... X""" • ..J
foJ'"iJ•• liliil i. tin Bi6X,.phitJr Plu,art"', Bern ('970 ).
, 3' C,;/;rnm in AntiquilJ

The tendency of Greek tho ught to proceed by d efin ing pairs of

opposites is well known: day and night , right and left, male and
female sel a pattern of dichotomy on which much thinking
abou t many subjects Wall inevitably grounded. It is no surprise
thaI our earliest account of differences in stylistic tone shou ld
be of this kind . The agiin betw"en Aesch yl us and Euripides in
the Frogs is of course comic in purpose:6 both parties are mcan!
to appear ridi culous. But the intended contrast is fairly plain,
and the vocabulary seems 10 have inAuenced laler and more
serious criticism very co nsid erably , Bolh wrilen oompose, of
co urse, within the limits of tragedy, the nature of which is 10 be
grandiloque n t. !fEuripides fails to maintain Ihi s grandeu r, the
fa ilure is rdative: even th e traits which Aristophanes holds up
to ridicu1c- 'Aethcr my pasture' and the like-are in th e grand
manner. Now the ~pe<::ial qualities attrib uted to Aesc hylus
arc plain cnu ul!Ih: r~"$UundjJlg magni loquenc e, b aKd largely
on compound words 'bo1led together', ,md powerful emotional
effec ts, mosd)' related to the fea rs and exci tements experienced
in war or d a nger. A, hi, subjects are larger than life, 'j() are his
wo rds: 'great wnrds'. as he is made to sa y, are the necessary
outcome of'great attitudes and thoughts'. This tells us nothing
of the path os of Aeschyl us, the speculative power, th eoccasional
realist ic humour; but it created a stereotype which laler
authurs - notabl y Dio Chrysostom in his account of the three
tragedians' Philoctetes pJays,7 but also 'Longinus'-accept
without ques tion. In the Frogs, it is Euripid es, no t Aeschylus,
who makes claims for his art. H e has found tragedy in an un-
healthy state, a nd ha. put he r on a diet to sl im her duwn. He
gives traged)' a new adornme nt in the shape of'mo nodi es', and
a strictl y economical and inteUigible plot. D io Chrysostom'5
account of Euripides' Philorle/es makes th e same point : Aesch y-
lus did not bother 10 motivate the presence of his chorus of
Lcmnians, while Euripides painstakingly ma kes them a pologise
for their long neglect ort he crippled hero, in order 10 make the
sit uation seem probable. A certain deg ree of realism IS regu-
• Cf. al>rn:e, Chapter II 2 (ALe II If.).
' (),.tW~ 5" ( ti LC .1'4 If.). cr_ abm'c, p _ 6].
 '33
lar! y thought of as a Euripidean characteristic. But (h t stri ctly
stylistic qualilits, as !\rislophanes sets [hem, arc no! so dear.
We hear ufprccisiun (the key word is saphis, 'dear', 'd ist;nc\ ' ) ,
ck gancc (the key adjective is Ifp/os) , ingenuity, sha rp argu-
ments , and word .. suit~d 10 the real world . In brief, Euripides
deliberately avoids Ihe gr,,,,d words on which Aes<.;hylu> d e-
pends, a nd lhe grand concep tions thai gu wilh them ; instead,
I,,: gives his plays a stricter intellectual d iscipline. and the
appropria te language of argume nt. I n term' ufthe effect un the
hea rer, A..-schylus ';lma7.C<;' (tkplillti ),8 and stirs his audience to
martial enthusiasm b y his hero;!,; images. This is ' Longinus"
picture 100. Euripides, on the o ther hand , stimulates the mind
by fo rcing us to think about the mrth ical si tuation and see it in
terms of real Ii fe, A ristophanes' cri tiq ue of cou.-se is n<>1 a purely
literary on e: he also secs the contnlst between the tWO poets <IS
a manifesta tion of the conflic t of old and nc w, between a,c_
ccptcd p a trio tic values and question ing reva luation , whi c h was
a leading fea ture of th.: puhl k consdousncss of his age.
4

What is essent iall y Aristoph;l1les' diehowmy appe ars, though

in various forms, as the mOSl widel y accepted class ifica tion of
wh<lt Illay be called literary tOiles throug hout antiquity.
G randeor , t kpli;ris, nat ural ahi Ii ty. e motion stand on one sidc ;
rca lism, persu asion, art and ilhos 011 the o t her, I t is wort h whi le
looking at sollle of the guises in whi ch thi~ antinomy appear-,
Dionysius of H a lica rnassus uses a simple va riety of it to begin
his class ific<l tion of forms o f word_a rrangement (sunthnis), 3
form31 fealllre with which content has little or nothing It) do:
Under 1'Icasllc"hlcll"'" (hidvnl) [ cl "., : fre, h uc., (M .,,). chacm
(,hariJ), .:uphony (fIIJlomia ), Iwe"mC"l (glukulb ), per;u asi\'en':ss
(pilhawJo) and the li ke. Under 'beamy" (kolon ) [ class: magni fICent<'
( miga/op"".i,, ), weight (b~"'J ) . solem" it }" (f",,,,ologia ) , dis,,;t)" (<L<;6ma ).
the palina of age (pitWJ ).9
Here, Ihe IWO hasic 'lualilics are ca lled hidoni anu ka/o1l ; a
• ,I.pliwi" ~"d , l.ptixiJ, '~"'m;,hmcn", arc impO<lanl lemu ; 'Longinu' '.'>',
",ilh my 1I0le tdloc_
• D, ",,,,,..,,,i.,,, ....
bo,"", 11.37 (AI£ 331 ).
'34 Criticism ill AII/iq"ilJ
slightly unexpected pair, until we recall that they are commonly
opposed to each other in an ..,thkal sense, as 'pleasure' and
'honour'. Under hidonl come two sets of qualities. One is rep-
resented by pillu).1WII, 'persuasiveness'. This indude5 the notion
of plausible argument, the appeal to th e rational; but it in-
cludes also an dem ent of in gratia lion. The other tenns- Mfa,
{karl! and so o n - have to do with the euphony and elegance of
discourse, not with its intelle<:lual OOnlent. On the othe r side,
we have the qualit in which can be seen as varieties of ka/oll. It
is al once noticeable that they do not include anything which
muses fear, though in Arislophan",-and later in 'Longinus'-
this is an integral eleme nt of most forms of grandeuL Thi.
omission does not seem to be due simpl y to the fact that
Dionysius' subject is sun/huis, for he later 10 discusses
Homer's ingenuity in adapting sound to sense in passages of
pathos, f~ar or heroism. ~Iorwve r , when he comes to identify
th<: main types of sUll/hais, these prove to be three in number-
'rough', 'smooth' (glaphura) and 'mixed' - and the 'rough' i .
meant to express em01ion, and is exemplified by the work of
Aeschylus and Thucydides. What we have in the list we are
considering is essentially a (ontrast between the dignified and
the charming; this i. an antinomy whic h has obvious social
ovenoncs. It malters litt le that it is applied to sUll/llesis and nOl
to Itlns in general.
The dirrerences between this and Aristophanes are worth
noting. In the Fwgs. Dion~'sus takes pleasure (hi&lai ) in
Aeschylus, whom he chOO5es to ta ke back 10 earth, and yet
Aeschylus' power lies in grandeur and tkplixis, for he ~hocks
and stimulates by an assault on our primitive passions and
fears. Euripides, as we saw, stands for ingenuity, realism , neat-
ness or wurkmanship; he stimu lates us to exercise our analytical
powers. In Dionysius' antithesis, neither of the two terms is
quite the same. ' Pl<:asure' is act ually opposed to grandeur-
though this may be only a verbal point of no significance- and
~ecms to stand for something inoftensive, lik eable rather than
admirabk, and eliciting a response of painless acceptance;
grandeur rouses respect ra the r than fear. Neither disturbs , and
ne ither excites.
 '35
The antinomy, in one form or another, had a long life, and
outlasted man y changes of taste and circumstance. One ve rsio n
of it is (he basis of the trealise of Demetrius, whose four rharaJ:-
lirt!, though he p roves th em to be ind ependent of one anoth er,
naturally g roup th emselves into 1WO pai rs : th e grand (mega/Ii-
prtpiS) and Ihe forceful (drinQs) stand opposed to the elegant
(glaphuros) and th e plain (iuhnos ). Another, and simpl e r, appli-
ea lion is lU b." found in I he m us ical w r i ICTAristidcs Quintilian us,
for whom th e opposing IOll l"S a rc quite simpl y idenli!led with
' male' and 'female'; even the use ura feminin e no un (limne) for
th e ocean can be said to add 'charm' \0 a passage of Home r . II
,
This dichotomy represe nts the simples t possible answer to the
qu estion what differences of lu is the re are. [( must a lwa ys be
' gra nd ' or 'n O( grand ' . But it d ,x;s nOt tell us 'wha t co nstitut es a
good :;tyle', T h is ques tio n fi m comes \0 th e lro l\t in Aristotle ,
thoug h it must ha ve been di ~c u ssed from the ea rliest da ys of
prose literature, sin ce, while poetry has othe r features besid e
luis- metre and a ccompa nyi ng music - which contribute to
its excelle nce, prose has o nly wonb and their arrangement, It
is noticea b le that Aristotl e regards the p rob lem ra ised by some
p red ecesso rs (perhaps Thcodeet tos) of how to make style ' ag ree-
ab le' or 'grand ' (hidus, mrgallJprepis) as of no importa nce: these
arc ' mora l \,irtu tos', not proper! r q uali ti cs of luis in itsdf. t2 Jr it
is importa nt that /",is should give a n impressio n eon esponding
to th ese qualit ies, that wilt fo llow fro m its possession of its own
eu<:: ntia l virtu,;, . Th r:sc are corn:<;Inr:ss , darity , a certain
measure of dignity (onko, ), and finally propri ety (pr,pon ), th a t
is to say a ca pacit y to ada p t itsdf to the re'luin..-rl em otion,
charac t"r and su bj ect-rna tier . T hi s theory of arela; (' "irtues ') is
both intc!li g,;nt an d cohercnl. It "pplics to poe try a lso, with
certain modifi catio ns : poetic;,llanguage avoids 'meann ess' in
all ci rCU!llstanCcs,lJ not me rely in accordance with the de-
mands of the part ic ula r sit ua tio n, and also adm its more foreign
words and metaphors. The theory o f , virtu es ' has thus nothing
"0 .8---9 ( AI.CS~' IL) .
11 RMID,i< r 4 r 4" :to , " I'otli<, r 4:;11" r 8.
'36 en"licism in Antiqui!y

(0 do wilh the distin ction of what we aTe callin g ' ton es' of dis-
course, whic h Aristotle cl early dismisses as sttondary an d ir-
relevant to his probl em in the Rhe/a.ic. T he d emand for onk()s
should of co urse nOI hl: confus~..:I with a demand for 'grand eu r"
("'.galoprepeia) ; it is sim pi y a req uiremen t for that degree offul1-
ncs:; and dignity which d is tinguish es public utterance fro m
private. The requirements of corrtctness - Hrllinismos, in
Roma n writers Latini/as- and di stinClness (saphin.ia) are basic.
Ariswlic is much impressed by tbe difference between the
wriucll st yle, meant to be used in a cool hour, and the style of
imprompt u speech , meant onl y \0 be heard. t. When we w ri te
\0 be read , we no longer have exp ressiveness of voice o r gesture
to help us in ma king our meaning dear. PunCllIa tio n and word-
division hardly existed in Greek a t Ihis lim e; and Aristode is
comme ndin g a kind of akribtia ('exactness') w hich m aktll the
wriu en wur d u nambiguous, even in t hese conditi ons. lsocrates
had gone far to ach ie" e this, largely by Ihe careful syntactical
control of his periods.
Aristotle' s d octri ne of arelai was dev elo ped to some ex tent by
TheophraSIlIS, who replaced onkof by kalasktui, IJ and probabl y
a lso took the step of cha ra cterisi n g this as 'pleasing', thereby
beginning th e process of connation be t ween 'virtutll' a nd
' tun es' which is nOticeable in many late r theori es. T h e Stoics,
we a re wid, added sunillmia, 'conciseness', to the essentia l vir-
tues; but basically the Peripatetic sc heme was laken for
grant"d th roughout antiquity. Pollio 's famous remar k t hai
Li\"y had ' Pata\";n itas' is a pa rody of it;16 it means simpl y that
the h isto rian '$ IAtinilas was an infe rior, rustic j mitation; h" did
nOI pO'lsess the SUfe grasp of gram mar a nd syntax th a t marks
the conec!, urban spea ker."

" Cf. ~ oo,"e, Chap'er II I I.

" T hi, js a mo,.., ""Iernal f~alu": 'ornameol', 'p"",o"l.Iion' , rather th~n
',;u' . Cf. Cicero OrQUW }9.
,. Q"inoilian '.5.S6; K . Laue , CP 35 ( '9411) 56 f. (- KI,i", Sf"'if"" 1196 f.) .
11 h is ",,'e"'onhy tha! Aristotl. use> 4'U'Q' (urban, urbane, willy) ror tl><
quality tha, makCll clever expr"';I>n . urcClII!ful; RfI,j",ic S. ' <> (ALe 'SO, ,,·ith
1>I i... H ubbard'. not~). The town wa< though, '0 be 'he milieu in which the
be.. Ipttch wa. fOUl,d ; " 'e may com""t lal~r Roman arrhai.ing I... ,,,, ,,·hich
~dmiT'" the conU:""ative language of housc·bound women (Cle. De ",al""
HS1·
 Theorits ofSIJ'it '37
[Il Dinny,iu_~ we fino a n elaborate form of (h e o'>ctrine o f
'virtucs', which he uscs rath!;r mer, hankally to dcscrihc the
qualiti es of the classical o rators and historians ,' · ' Purity',
' d a rit y' and 'brevity' a re ' necessary' vi rtues, togc. th c.r with the
prefe rence lor literal over metapho ri cal e:.:pression and Ihe
ca pacit y to 'round off and turn ' Ihe thou ght - that is to sa y, to
compose coherent periods, But Iher!; is also a range of ' addi-
lio nal' vinues (tpilhtloi altlai) : viv id ness (margtia ), characle r-
is<H io n (i th0/l<iiia), decorum (p ••p;;n ) , pcr:su;~~iveness (pi/hollotlI ),
cha rm (tharis), sense of timi,,!; (I.:<liws), devatio" (ImpsQs ),
gra nd e ur (mtgaloprtl"'") and forcefulness (dtil/otis ). Not all of
th ese need be present in anyone author, ho wever great. Some,
as will be obvious, a n : (I ua lh ies which define a {_crtain c ha r;u;te r
or t(>ne of writing ; they are , as :\riSl(>tle woul.-l put it, 'c\hica ll y'
differentiated. T he sharp disti netion bet",ccn rharaktir and
artli is now Ihoroug hl y blurred.

[I is in Ihe COnle:.:1 of\his blu rri ng that we sho uld consider (h e

class ification of stylistic. 10n~"j\ im o three, nOt two o r ((JUr, ,q main
r.ategori ~... whic h is the best known form or s~ y lis~i c th eory in the
Rom a n timcs , This 't ripartitc sche mc ' is found aga in and again
in Cicero, Dion ysius and Quinti[ia n ,1O I I was Iradil iona II)' iIlus-
tra ted Out or Homer , thc (()unt of a ll wisdom , who was nat U rall y
ima gined to have known this ,,1';0. 21 T he grand stylc a nd til(:
plain were d escr ibed, il was believed , in lhe account of the
o ralory or Od ysseus "nd lI,'l cnelaus in the third book of thc
I1i(ld: Od ysse os' words 'eam e likt: tlt e sno ws of winter', while

"1,,,;4, ' 3.
" Four not onl v in U.'m~"iu" hut in IP1utarrh) l-if••1 11••", 73, M"'"robiu.
Sal",,,,,/ia ~.l.i. I'rod", in Photi", rod . ~39 (..,e Appendix. p. 00' ).
,. Stt <sperially Cicero /I'MI., 4"; Dion)",iu, Ikmo;lht." , If. and 8 (AI.e
307 IT.) ; Q"i tltilian 12. 10 ,58 If, (AI.e 4'3).
II Se •.•. g., Cicero1/,",., 40 (ALC ",J; Quintilian 1~.!O.6~ (ALC 41 41;
Gelli". 6 , '4.7; IPlutarch ) /-if. "1 1/"",,, ' 7>; R~dcrmach.r. IITli ... ",ipl.",·,
6 If. T h. pa ....g .. of Hom.r arc II. 3.'" IT. and, " 49. Libaniu. (&clam , 3
and 4) i'l\'en!ffl "yliuically contrasting l"",,cll'" by M endllul lind Od )'",:u.
d.liming Helen bock from the Troja",.
,,8 CriliciIffl in Antiquity
the laconic ;\",cnclaus 'spoke Iillk, bUi never mi$.\td th e point'.
With them. wherever this illustration is fOlund, apjl(:ars also the
figure Olf Nestor, whose words, as we learn from another
passage Olf the epic, are 'swee ter than honey'. The division Olf
stylistic tones thus portrayed nOw includes [socra!",an smoot h-
ll f$'l and swectnes, as a third characteristic kind, side by side
with stormy power and laconic sim plici ty. Whether this scheme
was an invention of Theophrastus has been much debated. n Ii
probably does date from about hi s time. II ca n be S«ll as a
formul ation Olf distinctions dose to those Olf Aristotle, since the
plain style may be thought Olf as a reproduction Olf natural
language, the Ody~an storms as the emotive style of the courts
and assemblies (texis aguniflikl) and Nesto~'s smoothntt'l a.
language meant for reading (tmagrWsis). Moreover, the system
is taken fo~ grantt>d in what is generally hdie\"ed to he the
earliest of the late Hellenistic treatisn to survive, the Rlle/on'ca
ad Htrmnium. u Once accepted, such a s.: heme offered a tcmpt_
ing way o r classifying w~itel'S in any genre. Thucydides,
Herodo tus and Xellophon stood for the 'three styles' in his-
tory;I' Dcmosthenes, lsocrates a nd Lysias in u~atory ; Hesiud
demonstrates th e 'middle style', and ,\nlim achus Ihe forcible,
in epic." This kind of labelling, whether based strictly on the
tripartite scheme or o n some version of the doctrine of arelai,
was obviousl y superficial and unsatisfactory; H orace was quite
right to make fun of it as applied to the early Roman poets.'"
It is natural to ask what tht> rdationships orthe three styles 10
one ano th er was suppose<! to be. Can they coexist in a single
author ? And is One better than the others?
Cicero certainly thou ght that an orator sho uld be master of

"For the m~n)' problems in thi.; .. e Hendrid..on, AJP 75 ( '90~), 748.-

~90 ; Grub< . .iFP 73 (' 95~ ) If. ; Amtin on Quint. , loe. ~i. " We should not think
of 'he ;den,ific.';on of the me~n or middle . Iyle ,..j,h ."tt,ness or . moothn"",,,
or th. accoml"'nying illu'I"'lion ofNeslor, as Thwphraslan; buI ''''"' nOlion
of an ' itttcrmrdiat<' b<lwc.n 1",'0 r.,:ognj",d 'xl,.",.. ",'"" probably a pari of
hi. thwry .
"Ilo(,k " . (M Ia;", ill,"cnl<:<1 sp<:<irncns ,of II><: Ihl« 'lyl.. and Ih.
corr"'f'OIldin~ P"',,".mons.
,. ~lar<dlinu,. Lift of n ..yJ;dtS, 35 If. (Al'pcndi~" p. '!17).

." Quin,itiall 1O. '.5~ f. ( .~LC )88).

"
"p<>/.o . I..'>5"9_
 ThtoritJ of SIJlt t39
all. H e a$.SO{;iaH:d th\: grand slyle with the oratOrS fUJ1(;(io n of
exciting eillot ion, the smooth with his giving pleasure, the plain
wi t h his conveyi ng inlo rma lion." /o.'lo reo\'er , he elai med to ha V"
<.:om post:d thre\: speeches whi ch might Serve as models of Ihe
three kin ds; pro Catcina in Ihe plain slyle, eS]leeia ll~' in the
narlalio ; pro Itgt Mam/ia, wi IhiLI large panegyric clement, in the
middle sty le; a nd pro Rabirio , whid' deals wilh a highly .:moliv£
political subjec t. in the grand. z8 Ind eed , the hight"St kind of
orator- who , for Cicero, was Ihe one bcst <.: apabl\: of rousi ng
emotion- actually needed the skills of the olher twO stylcs in
order to make his own manner acce ptable.
I t is easy to sec how thi s kind of d escr il)lion and characterisa-
ti on of "yles cou ld be used for the purposes of literary con-
troversy, that is tosay for advoc;l\ing a taste for certa;n kimi. of
writing and dispa ragi ng others. Cice ro's formu la was ]lut for-
ward , to a cer tain extent, in scll~defence against the criticisms
of purist.,.19 'Longinu.' too dcarly uscs this whole ra nRC of
ideas in a polemical way. O f co urse, /",psos as he sees it is nOI
just a matter offtxis ; indeed, choice oflhoughl is a I'ery much
more imponan ( part of it. Bill it is Itonc the k ss a specific' (onc' :
serious, moving , eloquent ;n One of ~cver al ways, and sharply
op po'<td to any kind of triviality. ' Long;nus' , it il important to
notc , docs nOt in fau uSC the 'Irip" rti te' schc me, though he mus l
su rd)' have known of it.·10 I nstedd, ht: tH'aLl <.: eTlain man ifest,,-
tions of Ihe 'middle style'-'panegyric' writing, amplificatioll
and abundance - as contribu ting 10 hupJOs, others as detra ct ing
from it. Hupsos, we reca ll, occurred in Dion ysiu.I' list of tp;lhtIO;
art/ai. In 'Longi nus', il is bot h an artlt. and a charakler; further
evidence oflhe blurring o f th e two concepts.

7
Fro", th is point of "icw, Long;ni,,,, hupsos would (,1 quilt: well

" O,al., 97 W, 100 H: (ALe ~H f. ),

"So one mighl . uggc.. a. ,hort .p«imcn>: /'-,. Ctuti.a 0<>--1 , Pr. Rahi,i.
j J-13. A o 1'1:' .1I6,ilio 6o;r--70.
"a. al>ovc, Chap«r III 5.
," It is pCThap> iml'Jicd in 3+
'4" C,;lici1m in Antiquity
among th e multifarious idlaiJ1 of the later rh etoricians, for
these \00 arc based both on arela; and on charakliru. But
' L.onginus" uniqueness must not be forgotten. H e alone of [he
.tylistic theorists identifies the quality he is discussing wilh lIie
essence of the highe r kind of lit erature and regards the ex-
ponents of o th er qualities a:j practising an inferior art. MOr(:-
o\"cr, he has a dear conviction that a certain kind of moral
excellence is necessary to achieve his end, and tha t this mUSt
cO me-or is most likely to corne - from Ihe personal qualities
of the ",ri ter. Still, so far as the logic of his system goes, he is of
much the same school as the rhe loTS we have now to consider.
'Aristides' and Herrnogenes a re Ihe chiefofthesc."
Their idtai- like Demetrius' charaklirtj - invuln: thoughts
and ways of puuing them - mnoiai or gnomai and ukimala ur
m~/hQdoiD-as well as features of language. This is cunnected
with the fact that both writers import into the d iscussion a dis.
tinction hetween the various kinds ofpruse writing with which
they were familiar. I n 'Ari'l;dco' Ihis takco th e form of a
separation hell"een 'ora torical' language (politikDs or agonijtikos
logos ) and 'sim pie' language (aplulis or IuJplous logos ) ; the Jailer
is represe nted especia lly uy Xcnopho n 's C),ropardia and by
various Srn; ral;C works. ' Ar istides' hardly has a system ; but the
qualities he assigns to palilikos logos ran into two g roups. One
comprises the qualiti~ of grand and powerful uratory, the
other those of the lighter, more 'Attic' kind . Apkelis logos has a
less oven structure , less scope for elahora tion and furce. more
e mphasis on characte r, a readiness to accept hum b le examples
and a more personal tone. Something like this broad distinc-
tion of genres was common doctrine in later rhetoric; we find it,
for example. in the rhetoT Menander."'" In H ermogenes,
though his terminology fluc tuates, Ihe panegurik<>.f logos comes to
be opposed 10 Ihe pa/i/ikos, Ihe exemplar of it ;s Plalo, and it Can

" 1.1 0"'''''' (13. 16 ) had alrudy used the term iba in a OI I'lutie co"lo~l. In
·Aris'W...· i,us and ."U are linked .
l1'Ari"idt:S' , I~x' in Sp<nget ~ .• ;.9 It: and IV. S<hmid ( '9,6); H .. mo-
gen .. , Sp<ngel ~ . ~6.'> If., and H. RalJe (' 9'3 ) ~'3 If. See Hagedorn. and abo
J Syh . ,ri" G""""", ( '930) 5~1I tr. (in R. Stark . RIu/Q,u• • 44" If. ).
II ,II"ktJJqi a", in fact of'on . imply 'figures of thought '.
,. cr. Menander 400.8 Sp<ngel, with lI. u...n and Wi"""', oote.
 '4 '
be held 10 include not only philosophy a nd history, but poetry
as wclp!
II is wonh while dwelling on H crmogcncs [or two reasons.
The first is that he does make some ao cmpl to justify his
method . T he olher is that we can sec him at work as a prac tising
a ili c and [(:a ciwr, thanks 10 th e rul1ncs~ of hi , exposi tion and
the wealth o f exa mplcs.
Hcrmogen cs' ohjccl J6 is 10 give a rat io nale for the p racljc ~ of
mimisis, a set ofprind p lcs 1ha( wi ll, he hopes, ma ke il some thing
bel leTthan a mal ICTof an irTa tiona! kn .. ck _He the refore iso lates
from De mos thcncs a number of c harac teri sti cs, wh ich he calls
ideai. IJcmoslhcn es. we arc told, m astered all these, held the m
in balance, a nd used them as required, whereas in all other
wrilers one or more of the idea; predominates, colourin g the
whole style. Demosthe nes' dtin(l/i:i thus co m ists in hi s control of
the whok gamut; he i., the universal mastn for tI,,; o rator, as
Home r is (o r the poel.
HermOgCllCS' idtai r.ll1 into five main groups. T he first is
'darity' (SIlphintia ), whi ch has 'purity' (ka/ka rOli,) and 'd iSlin(." I_
ness' (tukrillda ) a s members. The seCOlld , 'di gn it\", size and
gra nd e ur' (ax;oma ka; o"kos ka; mtgtl/lOs) , cm b ra ccs 'solemni ty '
(,mlllolis) , 'brillia nce' (Iamprolis) , 'a hundaJl{;e' ""',iboll), and
the iII-disti nguis hed triad of ' rough I1I:SS' . 'culm ina 1in g e ffort' ,
and 've hemence' (IrathuliJ, akmi, sphrodrolis). T hird comes a
sed ion of fea tures contributing to 'ca refulness and beauty'
(rpimeln:a Jwi Itallos), mainl y points of se m enee-struct ure and
ornamentation by mea ns of voca b uld ',}' and fi gun:s. GQ'golis.
the fo urth main head , may be rend ered 'tautness'; it i'l\'olves
rapidity and tension, and is npposcrlto slackn ess and fl abb in ess
of writing. Fina ll y there i, i thos, a gene ral term lor all the
qualiti es associated with All ie deli ca.:}" and charm: 'simpl ici ty'
(aphrltia), ·sweetness' (g/ukUlis), 'tanncss' (drimulis ), fairness
and sincerity (_pi_ilttia, alflluia)- thcsc I""t being q uali ties of
thought ra ther than of language. Even this does not exhaust the
complexit)" of th is rambling system, which wa s naturall y
capablc of modi ftc at ion when tver th e author want~d to make a
tlt w pom!, or ,,!tuck the int er pretation of a r;vuL
"Cfabo\·•. (;ha p .. ,Vl tl ,.
,. ~' 3 n°. R aloe (_ Af,C ~6IJ ).
 Cri/icism i~ Antiquity
'4'
To illustrate Hcrmogcnes' ingenuity, I take a sing le and
relatively uncomplicated example. This i~ the discussion of
'brilliance' (/ampro/ls) , One uf th e qualities contributing to
grandeur and dignity,l? It i~ indeed an essential factor, needed
\0 coun teract the harsh or dry dfect (austiros is Hermogenes'
word ) that would result from unmitigated solemnity, roughnes.s
and vehemence, such as sharp debate demands. So it is a kind
of 'bright ness' (phaidrQliJ ), hUI not the kind that depends on
ornament or sWl..::mcss, nOr yel that of the smooth, careful
manner Iha( is 10 be found in lcsselcvaterl pansofOcmOlllhenes.
Lamp7Qlis is a lways dignified. It displays the spea ker's confi-
dence in the im p ressivenas of what he is saying, his own
success, and the pleasure of th e audi ence in what he tells it.
I\n example is OClllost hcnes' proud ooast:

Not with ,{on~s or bricks did [ fortify {he city, nor is thi., of all my
achic-'ements, the one of which J am m~{ proud, [fyou want to see
my fonifiu{iollJ<, you will find ann~, c it i", and pi a""" harbcm'" ~nd
ships, horses in great number-and the men {o fight for all these
things,'"

So far as subject mailer i5 concerned, Dt COTOM , with il5 confi-

de nt pride, is an obvious source for la",proli, _Yo It provides also
an iJlu~tration of th e ""rhoda; which this idta requires. One should
state what has to Ix- said without hesita tion or doubt. Th e famous
Mara thon oalh.oo- e l<X\uently and much more pcn::eptiveJy
annotated by ' Longi.lUs' - is, for Hennogcn<:!l , an example of
brilliant rtU'llwdo5, because it mak<:!lthe prestige of the matter even
greater than it would have been if expressed as a simple analogy.
In Olher words:

No, you did not do wrong- by IhOM: of your ancestors wOO risked
llteir Ii,'es a1 Marathon, you did not do wrong,

is more 'brilliant' lhan, Jor exam ple:

You did nOI do wTOng in running a risk for the frttdorn orGreo.':«;
for Ihis is what th06t who risked Iheir lives al Ma rathon did .
" 264 If. Rabt, .. Dt ,"'"." ~99-
,.. E.g. 9I', !)II, .88. .. ,08: 'Long;",,,' ,6 ( M.C 480),
 Sometimes, however, DCTllosthcllCl; wishcs to va ry the
' brilliant' dfcCl with some thing else, For example:
Such was the beginning and first foundation of lhe affair of T hebes,
whereas previously the citi es had been broughl into a Slatt of ha(red ,
dislike and mistrust by thC$e men, This decree made (he danger Ihat
hung .wer o ur cily pass away like a cloud,"
I n this, th e omission of t he words from 'whereas' 10 ' th ese men'
would (we are IOld ) have given uninterrupted ' brilliance' .
Dt,mosthencs wanled to avoid eXClOSS and th e consl'(j ucnl !Iil tit;t y.
H ermogen cs ' pres.::rip!ion (urns th en to vocabulary; in (his
'brilliance' doc> not differ rrom 'solemnity' , l IS semence-
Slruewre, however, i~ distinClive: there should he long co la,
and a certain amount or complexity or sy nldx - gcniti\'e ab-
solutes, indirect speech, and the like, Very st ra ightforward
narra tive in sim pk statements is 'pure and simple' blll not
'brilliant'," Fina ll y, the rhyt hms: the~e shou ld he in general
grand and solemn, though occasionallrochaic patterns may be
a llowt..:i.
Hc rmogcn es' fimge of examp les is limi led, and his anxiety to
define d is tinct qualities leads him of!en imo uncon vinci ng
~ pecial pleading , But Ihe ingenuil Y and sen~ ilivily an: ev idcnt.
Tu rcad D. corolla wi th Hermugcnes wo uld have Ucen a SlrCllu,
OUI b usiness. li e co mes as ncar as dlly " neien t a Ulhor ever d oes
to giv ing a rticutate ex pression to h is se nse orst ytis ti c nuance and
colo ur ,

In doing all this, Hcnnogen<'S, like Oemt'lrim a nd ' Longinu.',

makes considerable use of the doc trine of ' figures' and
'lropes' , a conspicuou s and notorious cle ment in most ancien!
cri ticism of indi vidual texts," In his model passages o f De

" [1lII .
" Hermoge"",,' example (268, 3 Ral>e) is I)emootl""", 20 (I,-pI;",,) [[ _
.. Ba,ic lext" Ad l/mnn;um 4, Cic_ IN ",.,. " 3- [48- 7' , Quintilian 8---<},
Itutiliu. Lupu . (ed , t: . Brook., 1970), and especially ' l.ongim.. ' 16----'29; l.ter
Greek treati."" in Spe ngd, R"'""" G,,,,,; (no'" ",cen t edition. of T r)'phoo\ by
'44 Criticism ill tl nliquiry
(orOlla (299 and (88), Hermogenes isola !<~s twO phenomena
which he regards as ' figures' (schima/a) of diClion. In ono:-
'Not with Stones did I fortify the city'- wc have anairtSis,
'negat ion '. In the other- 'Thi s was Ihe beginning of the
Th eba n a!fair'-he sees apostasis, 'delached phrasing', These
are uncommon technical ities; they serve to rem ind us of th e
length to which thi s labelling of ornamental abnormalities
was taken.
Both th e theory of 'figu n;s' and th ai of ' tropes' dat e from Ih e
Hellenist ic period. Th e o rname nts themselves arc of COUnie as
old as lileralUn:; a lmost all could he found in Homer, while
early Greek prose, suc h as that ofGurgias, constieminusly ex-
ploited the sound-effects of alliteration and rhyme. There is
a lso some pre-Hellenistic theory. Aristotl e discussed metaphor
- latt:r \0 be regardL-d as th e most important 'tmpe'- from a
chara cteristically intellectualist point of view. H e believed tha t
the ca pa city to inven t metaphon. wai; an index to th e writer's
understanding of the world, because it showed that he could
discern likenes.,cs belw~n dissimilar thing"!!. And he was inter.
es ted in the log ical difference between metaphorica l expressions
in which the genus stands for the species, those in whic h th e
",verse happens, and th<)!;e which form a kind of proportion. It
is these last-'old age is the even ing of life'- that later writen
normally llwan by 'meta phor'. as distinct from metonymy or
synecdoche. Thcn~ is no doubt that it was Stoic grammatical
theory lha t classified and elaborated the doctrine of!ropes: the
basic ei ght - onomatopoeia, ca ta ehresis. metaphor. metalepsis,
synecdoch e, metonymy, antonomasia, antiphrasis - occur in
almost all later texts, and may be regarded as fo rming a coherent
.el.u

M. I .. III .., ICQ.N .•. I .~ ( '<J6~ ) J and TiberiWl by C . Ballai,.". 1968). C en"",1
di..,u" ion" Volkmann ~15-505. Martin ,. 6' - 3'5> Schcnkovdd '3' - . > K.
Bar",·ick. P,. bu",. J" .",,,,ht~ Sp"..hJ.k .. ".J IIht/lm t. 86-, 1I. B. Vick . ...
CI... ,ual Rlul"'u i . EneliJA PM"), 83- '5<'. W. G . RUlherford, A C6aprn;" lIN
1/i.IO".! A.""Ia/;•• , and my nole 011 ' Longinu, ' loco cil .
.. So Ba""ick, op. cit . Sec pI .• Plo 110m. t61f. (7. 3H If. Ikm~rd.ki,). A
not< of hi, ddini,io"" may help . 'Onoma,opoeia' is 'he imit~t;"n ofocnoc by
$Ound (J""f'OI. 'cn .. h·; ,,,.t,~ti, '.urged'). ·Ca.achr..;"· .. 'he UK ofa word fO ..
oomething ".. hich doc> not ha,'c a name ofi" own: b 'l# m.an. originally a
cap of dog', . kin (*"6., 'dog», and it i •• ca, ach r..i. wn<n Homcr ..... il for
 Th~ories oj SI)'le '45
The distinction bttween the 'trope,' and the ' figures' is
probably also Stoic. It is Ihal a 'Iropt' is a de\'iation from
nature (ph~';$) in the usc of an individual word, while a 'figurc'
is a similar devia tion in the arrangement of words or the cast of
thoughl. Naturally, these di,lin(1ions wcre hard 10 maintain in
practice; and the ancient treatis<;S on these suhj ect.l, li ke their
mediat'val and Renaissance suceessors, present an ex traordi-
nary and frustrating conliH;ion of lerminology. Nevertheless,
[he hasic assumption of[hc Iheory, namely [hal [here is in fact
a 'natural' use of a word an d a 'natural' way of putting th ings,
is d early important . I [ impli~-s a sense of a norm in language
which ma kes link a llowance for historical ditTerence. and for
the conventions of different kinds of speech. T he theore[iC-al
difficulties were imi<;eJ not altogether neglected: wit nes:; lhc
discussion in Alexander'! of th~ qucstion whethcr or not there
was in fact a distinction betwee n 'nalural' and 'figured'
thought. But in general, grammarians and rhe lOTS wnfined
themselves to identifying and labelling, without Ihinking too
much either of the theore tical basis oflheir procedures, or ofthe
critical value of what Ihey were doing.
The doctrine ofthc figures - bolh 'of speec h ' and 'of thought'
- was, like that of the tropes, a Hel lenistic product . The defmi-
tive syslematisatiom were ",ade in the first ccnturk-s (I.e. by
twO men: Gorgias,"'who l<mglu C icero's son at Ath ens in +t B.C.

a goatskin cap. '''INaphOl"' i. a {ran"ec froo' {he thing propcrly ,ignifinl by a

,,-or<! to 5(lmething which i. analORou, to it : the ·lte~d ' of a mounlain, an
i,land ' ga<lan<ied' by sea. ' ,~ l e{alcpsi" i. {he use ofa . ynonym for one sense
of a word in another sen,e whiGh il (an be:.r. O~"S, 'sharp.endnl',;' a nalural
.pithtt of i<land •. Hut it al"" mea", ''luick' , and in (hi. ",me I~"'" i. ito
>,·non)"m . Homer u.... ,/wo, ,h.
of i, land. hI' me"I,,!"" ' . ·Syn<:<d<.><h,, ' ,. 0"
of 'pan fot" ".hoI.'; ' m'''~'yml.' ;,., for • • ample, ,h.
lI>C 01" ·Oc-n,,·,.r' for com

or ' Heph.c"".' r,,, fire . 'An,o"om •• ;.· i •• xcmptihed h)' "'}'ing ' Pc\id". ' for
Achill". or ' Tritogcnei~' for Athena. 'Antiphra'i" apparenlty ;. a !lOr< of
irony : AchiU ... 'was not plc=d' mea", he ' was verI' much di",.,...d'.
'r! "tarch' ..tld, allo 'emph •• i. ' , the me of a ..md which .ugg.." ",m •• hing
which i. not made explicit ; 'we U',", bu.'. i.,.
{he Ho .... · implies Ihat Ihe
HorJC was 0 l'a >! 'hing. This trope is no\ ," commonly id<ntified; and th .., 0 1"("
of cou~ O,hOB; a common list numbe .. fourtcen (= Ru therford, op. ciL ).
• , APl"'ooi x, p. j ,6 .
.. Cie. ,[d. jlmt. 16.~ 1.6: Sen . C"",.. '-4-,.
 Crilirim. ;". Anfiquiry

and later decla imed at Rome in the hearing of the elder

Seneca; and Caecilius of Caleacle, better known as the op-
ponenl attacked in 0". s~blimity. Pan al least of Gorgias'
treatise sun:ive. in th e La tin adapta tion ofRuliliu$ Lupus, and
a good deal of Caecill us' call be reconstructed from later
authoTS."
' Lon gi nus' no doubt him self used Caedlius when he tried to
enumerale the ·figures' which cou ld contribute to hupj(Js. Hi.
discussion ( 16-2 9) is mu ch the most valuable and intelligent
that we have. He alone make!; a serious effort to explain how
th e identifi ~ alion of th ese abnormalities ~an ~o nlribUl e 10 our
understanding of the wri ter's inten t ions and q ualiti e!;. He dis-
cu~'Ics th elOri cal questions , asyndeton, combinations of ana-
phota and as yndeton, polysyndeton, hyperbaton, pol yptoton ,
plural for si ng ular, present for past, apostrophe, and peri-
phrasi,; laler Oil, under the general heading of diction , he
deals wilh the im porta nt trope of metaphor. BUI he makes 110
aHempl 10 be exhau";,·,,. The es<e,,~e of hi s cli. c u •• ;on ;. '0
show th at non e of these orna ments by itself has the de!;ired
effect ; every thi ng depends on its appropriaten..-ss to its context,
and on a reciprocal alliance between the formal structure and
the underlying thought. T his principle is SCI out right at the
beginning in the a nalysis ( \6) of the famous ' !l.larathon O at h'
in Demosthenes (Dt corona 208 ). Th is was a much discussed
passage, and we can compare the treatment of it in various
autho rs.""! T he rhetOT Ti berius may well reproduce what
Caecilius said: he regards it !lOt as a simple paradtigma (' exam-
ple' ) but as the same underl ying th oug ht figura tively ex-
pr= ed lI..'l an imaginary oath (hQrkofl, with a view to brilliance
and cogency (lampro~ ... axiQpis/(m ). ' Longinus' goes much
further. He dubs the figure 'apos trophe' , because it involves
turning aside to address the Athen ia ns. H e sees tha t it is ad-
mirably suited to the situation, and to the need \0 answer
Acsc hines. The 'oa th ' mad e the heroes of Marathon a nd
Salamis appear divine. It also mad e the hearers 'Ihink big'. It
"Sec E. Ofcnlod., CQ«ifiif.a~wl<J . 3Z IT.
.. D,WimJJ ",.a
If. ( ..·ith H . Wanke!"1 (:<>mmon'ary); Tiberiu'1 ·f>9. 3.7'
S!",ng'l; Quint. 9.o.6z; IArn,id.) RlUi. 4-'4 If. Schmid ; Cotti)i,.. fr. 60
Ofcnlo<h.
 '47
gave the han: s!atem.:m an ",mo tional form. And the reference
10 the v;clOries of i\'larathon and Salamis ennouled the defeat
by Phili p. So tlw passa g(" fulfilled a numher ofpu rposcs, mu ch
more than any ot her rhelOT .aw: it demonstrated the r ightnC!;s
of the Athenians' a<;lions, it offered ,1 paradti.lJma, it proved Ihe
case and it comprised both a n encomium of the men .)f"M and
an exhortation to the present generation. To make his point
clear, . Lo nginus' add ures a piece of Scholarly crudi lion : 'so me
people', he sa ys. sa y (hat Ihe 'sc<:d' (sprrma) of t his passage was
an oath ~poken by an old soldier in a mmedy of Eupolis:
' By Marathon, by my own haltic, noonc shall grieve my heart
a nn go away rejoicing.' H ere, he says, tI,e situation was
ditkn:nl , for the A lhcni"ns wefe .t i II s"ccessful, and needed no
comfort. /\'lore<Jver, in~lead o f making Ihe men inlO gods by
whom One could swear a solemn oath, Eupolis 'wandered of[
into the inanimate', making the 'baltic' Ihe object. These
crilica l judgments arc, of co urse, of no great value as regards
Eupol is. ' Lo ngin us' ta keS no note of his ))anllragic manner, or
oflhe comic purj>O'Ses, whatever they were , whidl determined
his cho ice of "xpress ion. And th e comrast of 'inanimate' and
' aninl<lte' is forced and mec hanical. But they do quil e SUCCeSS-
fully underline the basic principle of interpretation; il is ' Ihe
where and Ihe how, Ihe (){;eas io n and Ihe purpose' Iha. deler-
mine Ihe success Or olherwise of the figurali\'e IlI nt. In Ihis
inSlan<;C, as ~<) oflen, we eOJlle l",ek 10' Longinus' for the OCSI in
ancient u ilicism, a recognisable power to tr anscend its
pedanlry and limilations.
 CllAPTE It TEN

Classification of Literature

THE idea that works of litera tun: all bdong 10 d efinaule classes
is commonly thought cemral to any understanding ofanciem
literallln:. Sc holars and critics, from the Renaissance to the
present day, have genera ll y acted o n the assumption that there
was present in the minds of all ancient writers what Horace
calls lex operis, 'the law of the work', and that they either fol-
lowed its prescriptions or infringed them deliberatcl~' and of
I\Ct purpo>;e. T his atli tude has undoubtedly strong justification
in the practice of the ancient writers. Early Creek lyri c poetry,
for example, was dearly composed in accordance wil h rigid
couventions of con tent, metre and music, which were de-
termined by the occa~ions for which the songs were made up.
11 is SO in most pre-literary societies throughout the world.
This differenliation oflyric by occasion, the structural clalXlra-
tion of Attic traged y and corned)' in thcir earliest known
phases, and Jater the rhetorical prece pts that seem to govern so
much prose writing, all lend support to the view that the critic's
primary task should be to establish categories and assign Ihe
in d ivi d ual wnrks 10 th em .
In other w<)rds, the key to understanding the Jiu:ra!un: is to
be found in the study of i~1 genJ"(':S. II is idle to protest against this
word. Time has hallowed the Gallicism. But it has no advautage
in precision over native synonyms. I ndeed, it sullers from a dis-
advantage of its ow n: its exotic look ma kes LIS hope for the
exa ctness of a term of art; an d we are of course disappointed.
fc)r it i.s used to denote cla!<.les formed on various principles.
Historically, 'gcn re-th wry' is very much more a Renaissance
inheritance than an 'lucien t o ne; when We come to loo k fo r it
 CllJSJijiClJliOfi of LiI(rlJIU'~ '49
III the critics or antiquity, as of course we Illust, 11 "ppears a
much more patchy and inco mplete thing than is commonly
supposed. /o.-Io reo'·er, the gap het",een thoory and pra<:tke, lU
in o the r areas which we have been considering, i, unwm-
fon"bly " 'ide.
I n this c hapter, I sha ll ~onsi d cr somc of the cbssilieations
wh ich our (ex(s present, and try to show o n what principles and
for whall'UrpOSCS they were m"dc. Ru les ,,,,d cHlegories which
are not ",ade cxpli cit in this way, hut ca n I.>c inferred from the
practice of poets and prose_writers, 1,111 o utside o ur sll bject;
bll t they ca nnot altogether [,,: left oul o f mind.'

,
T he most general principle of clafoSifica I ion is t ha t which stales
th e d ifferentia of poetry. \ \' e h" "e seen t hat, wit h th c exception
of Ari,tolle, thc ancient crilics look a ratl": r nai",: view of th is.
V eT'SC rema ined an cssent ia I characterisl ic. It m ig h t he possible
occas ionall y 10 call a prose-w riter a poel- Pl ato for the fire of
his language, the hi,lOrian Ctcsias "s a 'cr"rtsman of viv id·
ness' l- hut Ihis was lillie hut an imtructi\"e hyp~: rb<)l e _ Verse
apan, the Ill"in c hara<;1cri sl ic of thc pOet was hi ~ 'li.:cncc'
(txOU,;lJ ) , (he liberties of language and fancy grantL-d him , it
could be said, in <,omperl5Ht ion for Ihe restri ction of form .l
' Longinu s', who illust rates the difference betwee n ' rh etorical"
and 'poetical" phanliliia with c01l5ideraule inteJ!igence, clearly
regards the poetical kind as inferior, uecause less involved with
reality.' It is pcrlmps grandcur of language rather than im.
ag inative reach of subject th at was regarded as the special
realm of th~ poet's art. He rode his chariot, the prose.writ~r
followed On foot: pu.. o, lol!.os, pedfS/ris oralio a rc the stan dard
expressions lor pros(, _ The analogy C011lrast5 nea tly with
Valery's eomp"rison wilh walking "nd d anci ng, for it say"
nothing of the inherent val uc , the d ement of play, a nd the

, On ,h..,. .. and on 'he ,",-holc. I',,,hkm "r 'he rda.i"" t",twan prae<ice and
'hwr)·. S<~ L E lI. .,..i. HIeS ,I! ( '97' ). 6<r9t
, Cicero Owe, 67; nemetriu. 2 ' 'j (.1I..C ~09) .
• Quintilian '0." '9.
"l..m8i,,,,,' '5_
' 50 Criticism in Antiquity
symbolic character that, to must of us, characterise what the
poe t d oes _ ~ I orcovcr, the anc ien! grammaria ns and f hetor.!
norm a ll y regard ed poe try a s paraphra sable ; its co nt ent could
be expressed in ot he r word s_ Not thaI the poe ts necessaril y
tho ug ht thi s; we ha \'O'! lhe expl ici t tes timo ny of Hora<:c to the
contrary! and it is diffi cult to rcad his contempora ry Vi r-gil
witho ut being sure that he could ha ve had no such ill usion.

The fi rst theo retical d is tinc tion of 'ki nds' of poetry see ms to be
that propounded by Plato.o A, we have see n,' he set OU I a n
exha uOl;vc div ision into ' mimeti c', 'narra tive ' and ' mixed '.
T hi s is a di vision based no t on occasion, nor on cont ent, but on
th e pr~ n ce or absence o f mimicry. In d ra ma , th e who le thing
is mimic.ry of persons; in th e dith yra mh , everything i~ narra _
ti ve; in ep ic, there is someth ing of both. I n terms o f la ter
th inking, this i ~ u littl e odd . For Aristo tle ,,,,d his succawrs, the
d is tin ct ion betwee n n arra tive an d dram a tic is id enti ca l wit h
that between epic a nd d ra ma. That the epic poe t repo rts his
characters' word s does nOt ma ke him a n actor. Ye t Pl a to
evid e ntly tho ugh t it did. H e did of cou rse nee<! th is fo r the
ge m,:ral drift of h is a rgum ent, which w:IS to find Homer no
l ~ss g uilt y than the dra ma tislS of th e evi ls o f miw sis. T his g ives
him rno ti,·., eno ugh ; b u t the a rg um ent mu St h ave seemed
plausible al so. Perh a ps we ha ve here a sa lutary re mind er of the
extent to wh ich th eory ma y be suggested and shaped by wh a l
actua lly happe n s. For Plalo, epi c was a performance. Th e
recit a tion was highly dram a tic, th e poet or rhapsocl e really d id
beeome each cha ract er in turn. B>' Aristotle's time, th e si lua-
tio n was different ; the e pi c waS for reading onl y, traged y
prima ril y for performam;e , b UI a lso for pri va te readin g.

The su bj ec t of Aris totle's Poelics is 'poiili/;;i and ils kin ds (eidi )' .
• &1;'" 1.4, 56---60; d. abo, -• . Cha p .. , !I 4 .
• R",. 39~D (ALC 6 1).
, s.:c abo..-c. Ch ap .., V II 4.
 Classificat;on oj Lilnolurt
T he kinds, il appears, arc Iraged y, ~omerly, epic ~nd dithy-
"
,
ramb - the last standing ror a ra ngl: of lyr ic forms which
Aristotle is not concerned 10 dilkrcnliale. The lirsl three of
these dilfer from one another in 'media', 'obje<;ls' or ' mode';
and these criteria would serve 10 define any other 'kinrl' whi ch
ca mc into prom inc nce. As ~ prcface to a trealml:n1 of drama,
these distinctiollS are sa tisfactory cnough, anrl Ih<::y prepare Ihe
way for the thesis tlral drama is a higher form than epic.. But
they do nOI ena hle Aristotle to give an adequa te acco un t of
lyric ]lOCtry. o r of the epigram, or inrir.ed of any form of non-
dramatic verse other than epic na rrative.
The d efini tion of tragedy" follows from the general con-
siderations advan(l:d in thl: carly .:;hapters. I t is presum ahly a
model of how an ,Idos shou ld be defint-d. I t makes four p<lin l~ :
tragedy is (i) a mimis;s of a <;ertain kind o j" action, namely an
'elevaled' and 'complete' one; (ii ) expressed in speech en-
harruxl hy rhythm , ha rmo ny or so ng , the nature of the en-
hancement heing different in different parts of the play ; (iii) a
drama tic, not a narrative, performance; (iv ) produc tive ofa
ccrta in emotional effect, nam ely the Jwlha.,is of em{)liOn! of the
group to which pit y and fear be long. The second of these r~­
quircments prompts rdlectio tl . It is of course true o f Gree k
tragedy thaI it is a mixed ':ntertainment' cho ral song 'Illd
d ance, lyrical monod y and spoke n ver~e all go to make up the
pla y. But it is lIot the mere fac t of the prl'SCltCe of these kinds of
enhancement that makes a tragedy what it is, it is t he particular
natu re and order of them ; pmlogue, p" rodos, epeisodion,
~t asimon and SO on muSt follow a certain pa lle rn. These d-
ements, and the pattern they ma ke , are quite different from the
clements and pattern of comed y. Now Aristotle deal s with
these 'q uanlit"live' features, as he ca lls {hem, only in c hapt er 12
of the Poetin, a nd the re ar~. we ll _founded dounts orlhe genuine-
ness of {hal chap{er. 9 T he 1'~li(f loo ks below lhe su rface:
Arislo tl e is not conl en l with enum era ting the te rm~ of art used
ny pla ywrights themselves, h~ wants to uncover whal he re-
gards as Ihe real structure ofa play, anrl rleduC!; its rlefin itio n
from his general prineipks. I'v;ili!.:ii s no t merely a se t o f rules fi,r
• 145°'·
• S"" ,""ca. ad I", .; Tap!i". loc. cit. a OOw. ChaplO' 11. n. 3n.
157 C,ili<i5m in Anliqui!y
the practitioner. There is a close analogy between this pro.
cedure and what ooth Plato and Aristotle clea rly thought about
th e common pr~cepts of rhetori c. He re too, th e ordinary
teac hers .:num~rated the pans of a speech in order, from pro.
logue to .:pilnguc, and gave instruc tion on how to compose
th em. But all this, for PJato lO a nd for Ari stotl e, is 'pre!imina!)' to
th e art' , no t the a T! itself. We do not posses.~ Aristotle's book o n
comedy; UUI the a nalogy oC the account of tragedy sugges ts Ihal
we should ha ve mi ~d in it an acco unt , for exampl e, of the
formal features of the comic parabasis, though we can see from
Aristophanes that the poetS th emselves had clear rules about
Ihis. Let me genera lise the poin t I am tryi ng to make: the ge nre·
rules which poets observed are not recorded by the ph ilo.
sophical critics, because the y regarded them as superficial and
not going to the heaT! of the matter. If we want to knuw about
them , we have to infer them from the poems themselves.

Th is tendency to classify on very general princi pIes rat her than

to record a~tual pra<;li"e persisted in later criticism. This is not
surprising, si nce literary th eory remai ned , for th e most pan,
firmly in th.: tradition of Plato and Aristotle. The cumpilation
called T,a;;lalus Coijli~iml~5 is a good example. L1 The writer
divides poetry into 'mime ti c' and 'non-mi metic', but he uses
these words in a sc n!K: somew ha t differe nt ooth from Aristotle
a nd fro m Plato. ' 1I.l im c ti c' poel!)' consists of ' narrative'
(apangtllikon) and 'dramatic', and the latte r has the o bvious
subdivisions of comed y, tragedy , mime a nd satyr-play. T he
'non-m imetic' branch is meant evid ent ly to find room for the
didactic poetry that Aristo tl e delibera tely excluded. It is thus
subd ivided in to 'historical' and 'educativc': 'historical' here
covers all knowledge, whel her hum ane or scie ntific, which
mini sters 10 our curiosity: 'educative', wit h its subdivisions
'directive' and ' theoretical', pres umably coven gnomic and

'. Pla!o PJ"mlrlu 266D If. (ALe 75 ).

" Tn! ill Kaibd. C""'U""'''' e'G"'''' ... F''W'''~la 1. Sa Grub. 'H If.
App<r.d; • . p. ~O-j.
 ClaJSijiWlion oj Lilnalurt 153
philosophical poclry.u T his classificalion, again, is imperfecl.
I! leaves no pla ce for lyric, excc]>1 for such as is gnomic or
educ a tional in content .
This is a classification hy C<lntC nt. wilh no menlioll of style or
metre. In that resl.lCCt it is unusual. Horace's tlrs is pe rhaps
more typi<':d! of p0"lt-:\riSlOtcli,m thinking. For Horau :, the
key is duorum (Pltpoll ) : there: mus t be a relation of approp riate-
ness I:>elwcen form and conl en l. and both lerms arc need ed 10
char,,,:tcrise Ihe 'genre'. Thus hcxameler epic, votive elegy, en-
comiastic lyric an d so 011 arc easily distinguished; 110 OIlC who
does not understand this deserves the name of poet. Hordee
works Out one exa mple in detail: Ihe satyr play. Th is is d is-
Ii n!!,"uishcd from tra!!."..,dy hy .ubject, for the heroes a Ild divini tics
in it act ridic: ulouslyj a nd from comedy by the laet that its
chara(:ters are n<Jt drawn from daily life, but from the world of
myth and lege nd . lI\ltthis is not all: the language ;ltld vers ifi ca_
tion of the sa tyr-pia), arc essentially those of tragedy, not of
comedy. It is not clear that Hora ce sees this quile as we do,
when we ohserve the ' lyl e and metre 01" the Irhf/tul/li o r the
C)'clops; but he sees plainly enough that the special chamcter of
the genre demands a sty listic le\"C1 which is distinct from both the
major g('nres to whic h il is rdated.

\Ve must now tum Ii-om theorists to grammarialls. There ,:om

he little douht that the form, of ea rl y lyric: were regulated by
the ron\"cntions anaching to occasions and ceremonies. ~'I uch
of i( was, in a broad sense, rel igious. When Alexandrian
scholars came to cI".s ify the poems they had collec1Cd, they did
sO Oil the ha.l is of what they knew of these o ften obsolete a nd
unrecorded conventions. l'indar was edited under nine hea ds:
hymns, pae"ns, d ith yra mbs , 1'ro<oo;lia, partheneia, hypo,'-
chemala, encomia. thrill"i (dirges ), cpinicia.'J Onlr the las!
survive; but the whole range was known a nd studir,d in

" So Kaihd: .h< manu<rript tradition ",a l .,. these a .ulxl i\"i,iott of the
'hi't<>ri<~1" branch. ,,·hich cannot be right iJ<u' C rube, loc. cit .}.
'J Sec. e.g ., rfriffer, lJulo'Y oj Clauirdl .S.r..ld"r.ip i. ,Ill If.
 Criliciffll i~ Anliqui!y

Hellenistic a nd Rom an tim es." A \"e ry late so urce g ives us a

summary of an important sc holarl y work on these 'kind~', the
critical class ifi ca ti on by the grammarian Proclus, derived from
late Alexandrian schola rship, presumahl}' fro m Didymus. lI
For Proclus, prose and poetry have the same virtues though
in different degree , and Ihe s,'l.me ' three styl es', though in
poetry these look rather different: the 'b ig' slyk (hadron) is Ihe
one Ihal best produces amazement (tkplixis ) and poetical
beauty ; the 's lender' sty le (isdmM ) 'PU l'$u es metaphorical and
ornamental composit ion, but is com posed of relaxed dements,
so Iha! it is in ge neral 001 fitted for lamentation' . ikl ween
th ese IWO styles lies a 'middle' style, but thi s is not the same as
the 'A orid' kind (anlhi ron), '6 since Ihis is found in combination
with a lllhe olher thrt:e, and especially in d escript ions of places
like mead ows and groves."
T hi s stylistic Ih oory, whalever its origin, reveals an attempt
to adapt rhetorica l principles to the conditions of poetry. It is
unfo TlUlmte Ihat its detail. a re not di,dosed; Proclu. evidently
disc ussed the 'judgment of poetry', and in thi s connection
examined the difference between ((hoi and pathos. We a re how-
ever told more al>out his act ual cla .... ificatio n. 'Narrative '
poetry was conveyed in hexamete r.;, iamb iCll, elegy or lyric: in
ot her words, a elassifi ca tion by metre suflict"<l here. ' I mitati"e '
poetr y, on the other hand , fell into the three classes of traged y,
comedy and satyr-p la y, as in th e Hellenistic tradi ti on we know
from Ho~ace.
I t is th e div ision o fly ric poetry th at seems, at fi rs t sight, to
b ring us nearer to the poems themselves. Yel here too Ihere is
"s... H(J"'~~ n"" 4 ·~ ·
(App<:ndix, p. '9")'
" I'hOli ... Bi~li<>Ilwa, cod. '39 (rd. R . Henry. Plwli., . "01. " ('!Ii? ), ' SS If.
Th. d." of,!.;. · I'rocl ... • h"" 1><:"" rli'I>U'W ; i, i. 'OIn~.im.,. h~ td ,ha' h. i.
,h •• ame~' 'he ronh-<:c n' .. 'y 1',,"pta'oni" . h .. , ,he", are good ..ason. f",.
thinking him much carlier. Dep<:ndellce 0" Did )·m ... (for whom
op , ci,,, '7~ If, ) ""'m; Hnai ... t:" ",Ct ill i\pp<:ndix. p. 20' .
= Pfeiffer.

' . Thi, view ~pp<ars '0 I><: di=ted again>! that stated in .. n <,'en lalcr
"'uree for 'he ""me material (, HeliooOfu" Sdwi;« i. ',,-••-"i; Th,,,,i, a,"'"
+19 Hilgard ). ,,·hieh iden,ifi"" anlNr". ..-i,h ....s ... (',oidd le'). He",), (on
Phot;u,. Ioc. cit .) ...,Im 10 me wTOng in rc"""n~in~ Ih, u... of ·lIdiodo ru', ,,·ho
rna)' in ",me ""'I"'el. preserve a 'ruer a«oun' of . he original dourine.
"Nole Horace A" f>"""" ,6 f. ; font> ,I a,a DialUU rl "'_fln ••/i; aq"'" ptr
......., "",bifllS"l'.' (ALe 180).
 Classifi(alion oj Ultralurr ' 55
an a priori basis of classification: lyric poems a re addressed to
gods, (0 men, or to both, or clse rdatc to cerlain circumstances.
Somewh~t obscurelv, . the author savs . that this last class 'a re
nOt kin d .• of lyr ic poeny, but w~n: anempted hy the poet.,
themseh·es·. This prcsumably means that 'hymn' , 'paean·,
'd ithyramb', 'epithalamium' , 'partheneion· and the li ke are
na mes of actual ridi: 'g~'Orgir.s', 'gnomologic.al poem.', 'a pos-
tolics· an d the like are descriptiom invented by poxts, or
applied to poems ofa certain type.'~ Th e whole classifica tion
tl1<"n involvcs three main clements: (i) a dist inet ioll between
poems 'to gods' and 'to men ' ; (ii ) a list of titles derived froTll
early custom and religion; (iii ) a su p plemen tary list covering,
in (he main, elegiac, gnomic and di d aclic poetry.

We come next to classifications of prose. We have had occasion

to consider the divbion of o ratory into epideictic, dclibcra tive,
and fi)rt nsic, This wu ld be represe n ted as ,Ill
e"elusive, "
priori division - the subj ect-lImiter of th e th ree kind~ n; iatcd
respectively to presclIl, futun: and past - L"'t it was also "
p ract ical one, di/1"crell tiati ng the activit its of en tertaincr, poli-
tician and li tiga nt. T here is only one complication: the am,
b iguity in the term 'epidei ctic·, which sometimcs covers not
merely 'prai.t: alld blame· hut all ki nds ofdisplay speech, cve n
those which mimic the deli!;erat;"e or fOrellSic.'9
Fo r the relationship betwee n oratory and other kind s of
literature we may turn to Cicero.lO T he orator, he says, is to
be dist inguished from four ot her kind s uf writer. Th~"S(: arc the
p hilosopher, the sop hist, the hiswrian and the poet. By
'phi lm.oph er·, he means primarily the write .... of dialogues and
popular treatiSC'>. 1l1CY write oma/r, but also in a qui"t,
"NQ<C 'he full lilt ( '59. 8 Iknry ; 'f.6. ~2 H~nl)·) : "ogmotib. "",.,iJ•.
oposldiJ., go.",oJogiA4. gro'gi/;a. ,pi".lti/;•. The tim 1\"0 of ,h,,,,, (' poem. of
anio,,· and ·uf If"d~· ) arc rnys'eri"u. : p'.g",oti,. Me Mrt:uivo of "~lionl;
,,,,po,,i. are aoou, "",·d : Qpo". lil;Q (d . ~ I,,, 'Hdiodom. ·, ~ ;;o " t) arc telle"
mal;"g 'equ"" or ~i,'ing ad,·ice: t~.,iA. ",e poem . of moul precep .. ,
gfO'l-ita are on farming; ,piJtaltiA'a are again I." .....
,. cr. aoo.·. Chap'er II 6 , ,,;,h n. ~6 ,
10 OmW 6, - 11.
,,6 Criticism in Anliquilj'
unprovocative manner, suitable 10 the gTOwe con\<ersation of the
learned. Their writing is beller called jermo than lI'olil'l. The
'sophist' is, in a broad sen..:, Ihe epideictic orator, and differs
in degree rather than in kind from the orator whom Cicero is
trying to delineate; his characteristic is 10 gi,<c delight, ralher
than 10 efrect persuasion, and as a main object ralher than
incidentally. He see ks elegance more than plausibility, weaves
myth into his discou~, and adorns his style with metaphor a nd
figures, especially those of balance and ant ithesis. II is interest-
ing that Cicero stresses the resemblance of history 10 the work
of these 'sophists': the historian's narrative is 'ornate', his
speeches 'smoot h and fluent'; in both respects he resembles the
soph ist, not the prac tical orator."

Finally, note mUSI be tak en of th e way in which some rhetors of

Ihe imperial period class ified, Or ralh er li,,~d, Ihe various kinds
of cpideictic speeches practisNl in thcir day. Very [argely,
these second- and third-century writers - L\·l emmder and
'pscudo- Dionysius'll - adapted lhe l(~rminolog)" of Ihe gram-
marian~ who had stud ied lyric poetry. ·rh e)" spoke of a ·monody'
when th~y meant an ernOlio nal ~xprcssion of gr id: an 'epi.
thalamium' for a marriage speech, and SO on. This was
natural; the o ratory for which they we re prescrihing was
thought of as a substitute for, or rival to, )lCletry. But not all
their terminology came from this source. The 'consolation'
(pIlTllmulhilikos ) for example was neve r a poetical form. [n par_
ticula r, Ihey drew an imf'Ortant distinction between formal and
informal addresses, calling the latter ' talk!;' (Ialiai, in Latin
perhaps $tmlGnts) and prescribing for them not only radical de·
panures from sta ndard rhetorical structure but a non-periodic
style, based to a certain extent on Xenophon and the lighter
pans of P law. They called this style sUIlgraphi/:;os, meaning that
it was appropriate to a written treatise rather than to a speech.
11 Hermogelles, {Jr ibi. i03 !T. Ra t><:, rrgard. rl~to a. th~ ucmpiar of the
a,
pure paneg)·ric, hut ,.don, the hi"orian. falling under the ,""me general
head. His point of,·iew i, not ,·cry di!Te'-"Rt from Cicero· •.
or
II T , an!latio'" of oo.h th .... tt.• " in RU>kn and Witson «I . of M<nander
RhclOr ( t98t ).
 C[~SSffi€~lion oj Literalare '57
" ' hen we ~ecall that Plaw1J took «lrmality an d ornament to be
the marks ofa sUlIgramma, it is an interesting question how the
word ca'ne in th e end 10 ha\'~ almos t thc oppositc associations.
The anSwer lies as mud, iu Ihe differcu ce of coutext a~ in thc
historical dc\·elopment. Plato was contrasting the natural
language of conversation with the formality ofsomcthi ng meant
to last. He was not thinking of oratory at all; the P/uudo is a
repr~-scuta t ion of <:duc~tcd 1'<:01'[<: talking seriously about
serious subjnts in the language of the heart. T he late Thewn;
l<lo k as their standard tl"" \tr uClured . periodic manner of
lit CTilry ora tory an d they set ,[gain, t il other types of classical
prose of which th ey were aware, whose c haracteristi cs they
wished to imita te a nd develop for their own purposes. T hey
wHe high_class entertainen;, appeali nK to a puhlic who re·
garded al'prer,i:ltion of such thi ugs as it n indica lion o f standing
and prestjg~. They the refore combitled a high level of verbal
skill and vi rtnosity in o rations and 'essays' wit h an unswerving
concern neve r toshock orofrend by an unwelcome or di sturbi ng
idea. NO"ehy waS admi ssiblc o nl y iu fon u o r uetail.
Now th e prescri ptions of these teachers a re very minlt1e.
T hey laydow I) bOlh to pics and o rder (dlairws, dll"isio ). It is Ihis
care for detail which has led scholars to rega rd them as lhe hest
sources we have for the co m cnt ions which governed, for
example. poems of wekome o r leave-ta king. of marriage or
Ix:reave rne nt. throughout antiquity." People sometimes lise
the word genre of such species as these, but it is important to he
aware that this i.1 a different sense froll! that in whic h we spea k
of epic or lraged y or even pastoral as a genre. It is entirely a
matter of conte nt ; th e 'genr~ ' becomes a com plex of topics, not
a form. ~owi t may wclll;c thai mllchca n Ix !can,ed from Ih~"S<O
rhelO" about the poel. ; th i~ is necause the y, or their pre-
decessors, st udied the poets from a rhetorical po int of view, in
the way that we saw in Q uinl ilian, pse udo- Dion ysius a nd
Sen·ius,l! and a p plied to their own work tht: hint s Ih ey thou ght
most uscful. 1...loreo\"er. the very poinl Iha l makes the

"Ph"",,, ' ....'[) 1.

"!k. ".p. F. Cairn •. G",,,;, Com".,;/;o. i. G,ut 6"J HOm6" I'omy. fAin_
burgh '9]2 .
" 1\1>0.... . {:hapt~r V J 1J ~ ----6 .
,,8 Criticism in AntiquilY
prescriptions s«m most precise and meaningful , the orderly
progressiun of topiC\, comes straight from the preliminary exercises
(progumnasmala ) practised in rhetorical schools since Hellen istic
tim es ,16 This is some thing we have not hitherto had to consider,
since it has in i~lf no bearing on the judgment of literature,
ho weve r SH:al ilJl influence may have lx:en on the actual prac-
ti ce ofwrile ... The young student was laughllo <cl oul a fable,
an anecdote, a commo nplace or an encomium according to
certain rules, mostly derived from common sense, but somc-
times alS() from cla!OSical models. If the student grew up to be a
,o"- an Ovid, for example- he might go on performing these
exercises in verse, though if he was a good poelthey would play
only a minor role in hi s processes of composition. In l\'l cnandcr
and ' Di onysi us' , however, the progumnasmala arc naturally the
main stuff of the prescriptions. Encomium is the most important.
Its main h eads - origin , upbringing , achieve m ents and vinu <.-s,
comparison wid, o thers- were laid down ill the early days o f
rheloric , and never changed "",ch." It is Ihe applicalion of
these rules to the various private and public occasions Ihal the
epideictic orator might be called upon to celebrale Ihat pro-
duces the firm structureof th ese so-called Menandrean 'genres'.
It follows that their value as evidence either or poetic practice
or of ·geore theory· i. limited and uncenain. u

i~ G,,,* aod H.....u ~;d"'an·." ([9,,7). [7 M [ ~.

" s.,. D. L. Clark. Riot,,,,,,
" Inescapable ",;d<n<e in i\ga[ho"·, 'p<"«h;n Pial,... .'ifn<f'o$i" ... [!HE If.
'" I"g.""...
I. d . R"",.n and Wi lson. "p. eil .. xxix- xxxiv.
 C Il AI'TIOR ELl:VEI<

Literary History

,
T II It R E can he little doubt that the historical study of literature
in antip,uity w;o, very rudimentary by modern standard,. The
'consciousnes.~ of definitely distinguishable periods', which
Ernst Curtius regarded as ~"SSCntial to 'a historical sense', is
totally absent.l Am;ient writers seldom go beyond the distinc-
tion into ·old· and 'new': ' Periclean·, 'Alexandrian', 'Au gustan·
-if lhey mean more than merely chronological limits- '"
modern terms. Only isolated obsc rviltions can Ix lound about
the relatio ns between literary ;ITld political or social develop-
ments, and these seem to be confined to lWO topics: the ilssocia-
tion of oratory with republican Iibcrt y;Z and the widely-held
view thilt il/lluence led to corruption, in literature as in other
thin~. NCHnheless, the Greco-Roman c ritics were no t without
historical preoccupations. For one thing, they Were un-
doubtedly concerned with two~"SSC ntial preliminaries to litera ry
history: problems of authenticity, and biographkal fach a!.>out
authors.
The scholarly illvesligation of dates and authenticity is some-
thin)\" which wit., very well unders tood ':nn in elas.,ical Greek
times. The records of Atheniiln drama tic fcs tivills, inscribed on
stont from cilrlicr documents in the fourth century, and
~tudied hy Aristotle, gavc a firm foundiltion for the chrono-
logical study of Attic drarna. J In the third ce ntury, the
, ulin 1~·I".I." ond 110, Eo ••"",. Middl, At" (E.' L j, 0:;0.
l Cic . B'.'.' 46; Ta~ . Diolot M' 16-40; ·Longinu.' H.
, ... . P; dard·(:ambcidR~. D•• moli, f.'sli""" of Alh"u ( , 9';1 ). 66 If.; Pf.iffe r
8 .. cr. aoo..·c. Chaptcc ti ll.
 Crili6ism i~ A~liqui!y

Al exandria n scholar'll who carried on th e tradit ion of the

Peripatos devoted much care and trouble not only to tragedy but
to olhl'r poelic genres and also to oratory. All this raised difficult
questions. TI,e authorship of books in antiquit )· Wa.'j often
unsure.' Styles and lechniques were stable and often lacking in
individuality. Internal evidence often failed. Literary property
was not very closely guarded, at least in classical times. It was
apparently quite easy for collections of rolls a..ociatcd with a
writ{"r- hclonging to his lihrary, for exampl e- to be believed to
be his own work. The illlTactabk problems of authentici ty that
remain LOV{"1l in the scanty remains of ancient literature are a
reminder of this situation _
We do of coursc possess a good dea l of evidence about the
scholarly tech niques which were used in antiquity to deal with
such thi!\~s. One cxample must suffice: Di on~ius' treatise on
the orator Dinarchus.' This is one of the late5t and most
sophisticated of Dio nys ius' works. [t is ba>cd on a good deal of
learning_ \\'e find him using an arehon list, and knowing the
titles and t<)ntent~ of a large numbn of speeches. H e begins by
reconstructing the essential biographical facts. Dinarchus, on
his own showing, returned from cx ile °as an old man'. This, says
Dionysius, means that he was about seventy. We must there/ore
regard as probably spurious any speeches which appear to have
been written e ither before Dinarchus was 26 or 27, the age
when an orator may be expected 10 begin to practise, or again
during the period of hi s exile. Such argumentation is neither
beltt:r nor worse than that on which much of our conventional
literary history is built; and Di on~'sius makes it clear that he
knows that he is working in probabilities, not in certainties.
NexI follows an analysis of Dinarch us' character, in fairly
gene ral term s ; and the last extant part oflhe treatise is devoted
to a critical list of genuine and spu rious speeches. Dionysiu~
never a rgUe5 the casc for authenticity. Despite his S(;cpticism
about received opinions and his flat dislrust in the titles
(tpigrapllai) of books, he evidently assumes that the burden of
prooflies on those who wish to rejeClthe traditional authorship .
• Cf. K_ J- !)m'er, Tit. rpiG"u C.,pu, ( 1g68), ~3 If, ';'3 If
, Reeent "'I"'r~te «lilian and commentary by G. Ma,..,nghi. /To! il~n, n.d. ;
$0<0 aL,o K_J- Do'-O'. op. cit .. '9 If
 Li/trary His/ory
By contrast, he does present the arguments for his rejeClions. In
the majority of cases, the reason given is that the speech is
know n to have becn delivcred in One urthc ' unlikel y' puiods.
Failing this, Dionysius f" lls hack On stylistic criteria, with oc-
casional recourse to ot her historica l considerations.
Now the pUfJ}Q:5e of all this is ct:rtainly not solely histo rical.
D inarchus, in D ion)'sius' vicw, is not a gre"t ora tor. He belongs
neither 10 the group of inventor.; (heurflai)- Lysias, lsocr.. tes ,
bacus- to whom arc aLlri[mlCd thc in novations Ihat made
Aui c oratory possible- no r to th e 'perfectors' (/dtio/alJ-
Dr,rno'lhcnes, Aes,;hi" ..."'I, H ypcrides- who broug ht the promise
to liJlfilrm:nt. He is an imi la[(>r. H aving no special ma nner of
his own, he dips no w into one, nOw into a notheL All such imita-
tors lack 'natu ral grace', and a taste a ttuned to the masters will
a t once di scern this lack. Now it has bttn shown~ that Dionysius'
inte rests dncior)(xi in the course of his st udi C!! o f the ora tON,
and that the historica l rolc o f hacus as D~mosth cncs' t e ac h~r
led him to d evo te more allcnt io" tu that ura tor than hc would
have done ifhe hact bee n thinking si mply of his value as an ob-
ject of imitation. T his is true; nel'erlhelcss, in the Dina rchlls
these histo rical inquiries arc dearly undertaken ror a rheto rical
purpose, namely to point oul Ihe dilfere" ce between ml""re
im itatio" amI th e natural acquisition of rhetoric..1 excellences
(6). We thus have" further eXHrnple of th e d ominHnn: of
rheturical cunsiderations : literary history is here simply the
ocrvant of rhc\<)rical instruction . It is Ilatural to compare the
famous passage in "Longin lls' 16, where as we have noted, lhe
author points Ollt that the '.ccct" ($perm~ ) of Dclllusthenes' 'oath
by the men of1l'la rathon ' i~ said In be certain lines orthecomic
JX>CI Eupolis; lit, adduccs this neither \<) show Dcmosthenes as
unoriginal, nOr as objcn ivc Qudlen[oruhutlg, hu t to demunst ra!<~
the superiori ty of the fr uil to the seed, and point out where its
rhetorical virtue li es.
,
D ionysius' Di1laf{ilus began, as we saw, witf: a 'Iife' (bios). T his
was nothing new : biog raphical int n est in literary figu res goes
• S. F. Bonner. DiD.pius of lia/i,a'.au.,. 57.
,6,
ha(.k In cady \imcs. 1 The a rcha ic Greek poets "'cre 10 some ex -
lent perso ns of kgend. Hesiud defeats Humer al the funeral
games of Amphidarnas. S"ppho leaps from the rock. lbycus'
murder is avenged by cranes. The eagle dro ps the tortoise on
A~h ylus' head. Such legends lIlay be baso--d on rxx:ms, or they
may be folk-talcs given a neW name and habita\ ion. They tell
us that Ihe poe t is lamous, not that his life helps 10 explain his
poems. ThaI needs one further ste p: the acceptance of the
proposition that people of a part icular kind wrile poetry of a
particular kind. This is we ll form ulated by AriSlophanes'
Ag"lhon :

A poet ough t to have

r.hnn cn related IV the play hc'~
wriling.
For instance: ifhc writes a feminine piece
H is I'CrlIOn also needs its feminin e side ...
A masculine piece needs masculinity_
And wher<'; ",e're lacki ng. imil ation Ihen
Supplies Ihe ""am ...
o.,nsidcr how Ihe I:u"ou' lb)'cus.
Akaeu. ""d Anacreon of T em,
\\'1>0 ga"e II dcli~ale 1I",'our 10 Iheir song •.
Wore \UrbanI; "nd, ill Irue l o"i~ fashion.
As men , ...·ere broken ...
ForofncceMil),
One', poelry is like one', nalure. '

Ribaldry aparl. Ihis represcn ts " common unrclltcling view. I I

is a mOTali.li ng \'icw, nOI o nl y in lhe ~cnsc Ihat il rciales moru tu
wri ling, but lJ.ecnuse il "lmOSI a l ways involves moral judgments.
T here is an obvious link lJ.etween this passage of ArislOph anes
and Seneca's formulation "fthe prindpk Idlil oralio qualis vila,9
and his porlrayal of Ihe dfemi nale r.Iaece na5, whose style
demonstrated th aI ' he was the marl whose altclldants, when h"
, On liter-MY biograph)' .., • •'. Leo. [)i, /:. i«hi"h·.iimtu:M R io/:l.pIli.. I I If.;
A. ~!orni~lian". ]'''' [)m lcp .. ,.1 0/ eftd Hiog'.pIl,1 ( , '17' ), «p. fog If.
• T"'.<mcp/ICfi8<"_ '49 1f., - 'lIrok. ..· (djd~) is ,,,.,., 'aken in a ""xu,,1
"'''''' : «)"'pore !Jio". Hal. Co,., p. r"b . p.63. ,6 If. U·R. ,..here liegei •• i.
o.ai<l '0 have ""rine" lik. -"'omen or hroken men'. Cf. al ... P.'mniu.~ .
• Epi,l . "~,, (cf, a t",,·•• Chap'er IV ,,). " 'i(h Abrams, I'M Mi"o' ."" I'"
i.fJml', ~26 If.
 Lilerary llislory

went about in public, consis ted of two eunuchs-a nd they were

hWtf (".)(amples of manhood than he'.
This ~imple principle plays a large and conspicuous part in
most allcirll t criticism. I n conjunction wi th the rhetorica I hab i t
of slUdying and judging pCl"Suasive c/lectiveness, it formed
what we ma y treat as thc conselliUS crilica l a{[itudes of later
antiquity. We se.: it everywh ere . It is implied, for instance, in
the common and traditional apologia or the frivolous or in-
decent poet: ca,mt1l las,it'urn, vila Imdira mta . An Ov id or a
" ' art ial has toma ke a special cl aim to be thought an exception. 10
SUT\'ivi ng liv cs of ,lncic lll autho f":5 - which a rc nume rous.
mostly late, but often based Oil early material. espec iallr
Peri p,l\ctic researches o f th e fourth and third centuries lI.e. -
afC full of thi s approach.lt Vc ry often. il is the poetry that is
made 10 caSl light on the man, and not vice ,"ersa. Aleman's
nalio nality i.\ debated on the evid ence o f what he s"ys.1l
Euripides' hatred of women a nd lo\(, of the sea an: inferred lium
hi s plays.lJ Virgil 's homosexual relationshi p wilh an Alexis is
made up o U! of the second Eclogue." Ali-an ius introduces homo-
se"lIal alrail"S into h is poetry, 'd isp laying his o wn morals' ."
Mos t of this is li ct ion. By ~ontraSt. we hear very lillie of aspects
o f the maHcr that arc central to any modern literary hiogra -
p hy : prcdsc a s-o<.:ia tions of 1'0('1115 wi I h priva(e occ;tsio ns, o r I he
dcvelopmclH eilher or
character or of techn iqu c. T his is not
surprising ; it is in gene ral true that the Greeks and R oman.~
thought of a man' s bios more statically and less dyn a mi ca ll y
than we do, and inclined always to "lew hi. <luiuns and his
words as revel"tio ns of an und erlying, comparativel y un-
chang in g nature.
Tali! om/io qlwliJ Ii/a is not only "pplirabk to individuals : il

'OCf 0o,,,th,, ,6.5: n,·. T" , r,. 2 .3~4: ~b" i,,1 ,+11 ; '\p"ki".. A,../. 11 .
""fh ~ m ,,;( « m,·,n ;,·,,' ,·" ll ce';"" ,,(" Greek ,,'X« i. "ill A. """,,,«mann .
Biog,.phi G,."i .,i""", (, 8.\5). J.,;,'c' " '~ h. '''"eY" "f'e n prinled in cdi,;",,, <A'
t h~ authn" to "'hom ,he)' ref" (ant! "f(e n arco'np""y th~ir work in medi.
an'al manu",rip"), Se~ ;01 g<'neral M . R . Lefkow;tz CQ ~R ('978) 4Y' ff.,
and (o n Euripid". lif~) GilliS 00 ( 1979) 187 fro
" D. I.. l'a~". I'",'a< "" Ii(, (Fla,,'. 10 .
u 1",Ia £."I>i'/i, ~ (I" 137 WC"erman ).
"Donal", I.if- of r iftil H ' "",. ApJ""ndix. p. ,Illi.
"on"
" Q. '0. 1. ' 00.
,6, CriliciJm in Antiquity

can be generalise<:!. Nat ions have their pe<:uliar moru and there-
fore styles: the exuberance of the 'Asianisu' is associated with
e thn ic c haracteristics - or at least wilh the prejudice \hal
Orientals are wild and uncontrolled in exprasion . I6 Mo re im_
portant, generations have charaCleriSlic~ also: the archaism of
Sail US! became a fashion among his followers.!7 But the most
influential universalisation is one which we find alread y in
Ari stotle's PCJ(Ilics. Whe n Aristotk has explained that poetry
derives from our natural inclinations 10 imitation and 10
rhythm and harmony , he continues:

P""try was splil according to the various character!; oflhe poeu: the
rno..., dignified (s.... ~cUTci) "'pr=ntoo noble ac tions and thO$<: ofl ike
p"nGIU . the viler sor l (t"ul<Jum,) represe nted those of inferior per_
sons, fi"'t composing invfi livcs, as the other group oomf><>"'<l hymn.
and encomia"
Th ere follows a pice,", of historical sp ec ulation. Aristotle ap-
parently po$i ~ two parallel developmenu. One includes hym ns
and encomia, Homeric e pic and tragedy. The other includes
inv,",Cli\"cs, Homn's AfargitlS and com,",dy. The Oasis of this is
the correspondence between character and production. This is
history wriltcn on a priori principles, in mu ch th,", sam e vein as
most ancient theorising about the origin and de,·e]opm enl of
civilisation.

This passage of the Potties in fact inlrodu ces a seco nd hist orical
principle : that nfd evelopme nt. It goes on thus:

Tragedy, after starting from an impromptu origin . .. gradually

grew, as people developed wha t .... as to ~ ""en in it, and, after under_
going many changts, filia lly stopped changing ~cause it had reached
its natural st ature (mile liw haulis plws, ~) ."

Vahlen nb>;c rved that Aristo tle, a few Jin es above, had left

10
...
"".x.". "pUI. "<4,••,
" CicclO B.u .... ~[ _ S.c, ...... t recently, T _Gol"". ill F.."tlinu 1f.,11 , ~, ~9 If.

'448"'4 fr. cr. abo,'. Chapter VI 7.

10 '449" 9.
 Littrary History
open Ihe question whelher or nOt tragedy 'is nOw adC(juale
in its formative constituents', either in itself or in relat ion \0 its
audiences, whereas thc statcment that it has achieved ils
' nalural stature' entirely excludes the possibility of future d e-
velopment in Ihe 'formative r:onstitucnts'. BUllhi. is not a very
fair infcrenr:e. Wh at Aristotle puts off is a d;S(USi/Qf! of the
question. The answer seems clear: tragedy could not develop
rurth.:r: the plw.sis of" thing, we read in the l'alitir.J, is said to be
what it is like al the completion of the proces.~or;v; coming_to_be
(gtnesis ).lIl In tragedy , subjer:t, m el re ,md scale are nnw all
fixed. It has rea c h~-d iv; adul t stale, the end result of inno"a tions
and add ition. by a successio n of ktuTe/ai, gifted indi"id uals, somc
of who m can actually be named. Future t:hanges in ter:hnique
do not mailer. If r:xlens i"e eno ugh, Ihey presumably lead 10
something other than tragedy. Aristotle thus postulates an
analogy bel ween the development of a gen re and the life-
his tory ofa living animal. This analogy '(pplkos to growth bu t
not 10 decline. If we ask under what condi ti ons Ariswtle
thuught an an Or art -furm might degener<lte, we sho uld have
w lurn 10 the PolitiCJ for an answer, and il would be in tnm. of
moral decline and growing lux ury. T he seeds of decay lie in
mora Is and soo:; iety, not in ! he art _form itself. Desire lor no'·ehy,
an obvious mechan ism of change. is a moral maucr ; it does nOt
afreet Ihe properly regulated mind , wh ich wantS goodness and
truth, !lot novelty.
That Aristotle had a ge nuine historica l inte,."st, and was not
merdy co nce rned to work out Ihe probable consC(juences of hi s
very general hypotheses, is obvious from his Ot her historical re-
searches and is shown by a curious fea ture of this discussion
its~lf. Hi~ acCOunt of the 'growt h· ofuagcd y ac tu ally co nH icts
with I he idea I hat lilerary kind ~ dcpenrl on th c moral character_
istics of the co mposer. For from Ihis lauer point of view
Aristotle ought nOI 10 have derived traged y "from Ihe satyric',
whateve r precisely that may mean. No t surpri si ngly, his
Hellen ist ic successors re,·ersed th e order, and I reate<l the sa Iyr-
play, as Horace docs, as a lalcr innovation, made necessary by
"r
'" , ~S~· 3~ · Th~ model ]>Ian'_gro,..,], n ,,·idcntly in Ari"",] • • mind: cf.
H. U~·d·Jo" ...
", If.).
A., CI. 33 ('!)Ii4 ) 37' (- .~ts(~yl'" [Wcgc dc' t'",...,hung 4651
 Cn'tirism in Antiq~it;,

the need to titillate a j aded aud ience. l ' T hey wne less apprecia_
ti\"e of fact than their maSler, and more wedd ed to theory.

4
Aristotl e appears as po lcntial historian again when we tum 10
rhetoric. H e PUI forward IWO theories which bear on its hislory.
O ne relales 10 language: Corgias and theearI y oraton imilated
Ihe grandiloquence of poets; they were wrong 10 do so, because
Ihe d ict ion of pr~ is dislinct from Iha l of poetry." T his is pre-
$umably the germ of Ihe common later view-in Strabo and in
Plutar<;h for exampl e- Iha t poe try pre<:edcd composition in
pr~; 'prost' i> caIled 'speech on fOOl ' (pt<.i lexis, ~dtStris I)rolio )
in Creek and Lalin, because it came down frOIll the chariot a nd
wal ked on its own feet. B T he ol her theory concerns Ihe o rigins
of o ratory and of rhetorical teaching.'" O ratory too was a
Itthni advancing by successive discovcries. It all began, as we
have seen. in Sicily. in the fifth century, though the centre of
aClivity soon moved 10 democralic Athens. T he essential poinl
here is the link be tween oralory and political history. It has all
obvious pla usibility ; and we find it agai n and again in lal cr
tcxIS , in various guises. For C icero, peace and ease are the
conditions of eloque nce: paru eol ((1111" (I liq~e S(KiQ ." It does nOI
arise in nasce nl societies, in rond itions of wa r or po,"erty. or
under Iyra tln y. T o the "'Tilers orthe empin:, the cha nge from
lihrrlas to d(lminal;o ",a.! one of Ihe causes of decline; it h"d
broug ht a ",ithdrawal of the oralor from the courts to the
schools, from great causes 10 unrea l and frivolous pedantry.
'Longinus' , ",ho views a ll literature on essentiall y rhetorica l
lines, considers Ihis pol itical change as one possible explanation
for the 'u n iversal dea nh' of which he com pia iliS, but he rejects
it in fa\our of a moral one, based 110t on changes in the political
structure bUI 011 luxury, emotional brea kdown , and warring

" A" "",Ii,. ~20 If. (ALC 085).

1l Rlwl.,i,S . '4" 4' (ALe ' 36).
"Cf. al. w e . Chap'er X ~ .
" 0: abo ... , Cha!"<r VIII ~ (anrl AI.C"9, 2~ 3 ) .
" 8,.1>, H .
 Littrar;' History ,67
desires,l6 The yuunger Senc,ca flirts wilh "",yclica! hypothesis.
Velleius- who earned Saimc-Beuve's approval for indud ing a
<:ouplc of paragraphs o n litnature in the lint boo k ofa general,
univcrsal history- docs !lut even (u",i d(r the political hy-
pothesis as an explanation of the cuncentration uf worh 1.11'
genius in short periods to which he draws attel1li olJ. 27 Fur him,
the possible mechanisms of change arc purel y psydlOlogka l :
cm ul ation , whethe r friendly ur ctwiuus (an idea ;IS old as
Hesiod ) ;1l! the principle that ' what cannot gu rorward, must go
back' ; and uu r natural tendency to look for fields where easy
laurels can be wnn. ' Freque nt and inconsta nt change is the
grc;.tc.t hi"drancc to pe rfec tion _'
1\·l ust fina-century discussio ns uf this sort of thing are, we
shuu ld remem ber, accOunts of declinc. They arc in thc tradi_
tion of Plato's and Aristot le's political theu ry rath ,;r than in th a t
of th e literary theory uf the " orlics . But we do also posSC1;.~ somc
explanat ions 1.11' prug ress, nUl abl y Diuny.<i us' pref:.ce to h is book
un the classica l orators,lII which proclaimed a renaissance of
good laste under the be nevulent aegis of the e nlightened Ro man
governing cia!!:;. Both advance and decline, however, <Ire
I hough t of in a way tha t doe~ nut in\'olve objecti\'e dc:script ions
of q ualitativ,: diJ1<: reuecs. I t is usually taken for granted rha r rhe
elTemina le is inferior to the viri le, the modern to rhc ancient.
\Vlw " anrone advances the contrary of t!.i, last prol)QSition-
<IS Apcr docs in the m,m interesting o l al1 these works, Tacitus'
Dia/Qguro- this ag:. in is <In cvalua tive d iscussion, not a narra-
th·e. It docs huwe\'er happen that advocatc; or Oil!: side o r the
o ther ha\'e occasion to indica,,: the author with whom the de-
cisive cha nge came: Demet riU_1 of Phal"rum in Greek oratory,
Cassius Severu > in Latin .J' We shou ld note her~ th~ underlying
notion ()fan i"dinati" realised by an individual: it is 0"" more
item rn the slender stock orliterary_ hi'lOrical tl",rn ~-,; .

•H
"Vdkiu> [. , 6-- ' 7. So,.(. Appmdix, p. 'zoo.
lOt lI 'orb dnd d"-,, " If. : ·So .here ;, '"'' juS! on~ kind or "rif~ hut ',",0 upon
i, .
earth : one to l><: peai,ed " ,h" " )'uu ,,,,,ice "ne bl.meworlh)'.'
,. ALe 3"';; d . at~'H Chap'''' I V , .
>oJ ,6 fr. (AI.{.' 44 t ).
"Ck ero R,ul" 26 , Ta~_ J);olot", '9 (,11.(: "'9 . H 3).
 Criticism ;~ A~tiqui!J

5
For lh e stoc k is indeed slendc r. Thc critique of classical authors
contain ed in lhe extam treatises on 'imitation· by Dion ys ius
and Quintilian is often thought to constitu te a $OTt of literary
history. But it is nothing of the sort. The arrangement, though
often ch ronological within genres, i~ not designed to de-
monsml1e historical links, but rat her to make comparisons of
style and purpose. Only occasional touches suggest a historical
interest. In Quintilian, this appears mOllt clearly in the stale·
me nt that Menander admired and fo llowed Euripides. T houg h
working in di fferent genres, they were p upi l an d masterY
On thc other hand , parts of i'hilost ratus' LiU$ of Ike Sopkisu
do have a claim to be litcrary history. Th c introduction dis.
cusses the origins of extempore spea king, and the character-
istics of the 'old ' and the ' new' sophists.lJ Bm, like oth er literar)"
biographies, most of the work is anecdotal: Ihe sophislS'
[cad, c", aTc nallK-d, but vcry little uSC i. madc of [hi, in
C'xpIain ing their stylist ic charact~ristic~. Though it is obvious
enough lhat Ihis whole second-century movement was veIY
much a mallcr of local sc hools and their ;nAuence, we $hould
know hardly anything of this from Philostrallls.
In summary: neither rhetors nor biographers are much
interested in the transmission oflilerary characterist ics, or in the
rel.Hion between literary events and those in the world outside.
This weakness o n th e historical side marks one of Ihe greal
dim'Tencl"S between literary scholarship and understanding in
antiqui ty and the corresponding activi ties of our own day .

.., Quimilian [O. I.!i9 (.~ /.C 390).

.., See tn. opening ~ haplCfI ofllook I (accessibl~ in f.nglilh in the Loeb .,d. of
W. C. Wright).
 CHAl'TER TWEI.\'£

Epilogue

0" " funct ion of an epilogue, accordi ng to rhetorical theor)" is

to recapitulate. It is the on ly funct io n J shall try to fulfil here.
I havc tried to SkelCh, fu'St, th e hi~tor)' of what rna)'
conve nien tl y, if inaceura tdy, be ca Ikd lil,;rar), criticism io I h~
da ssica l worl d, I uegan with th e ear ly G rcd poct~ a nd ('nd{'d
with Ihe pagan philosophers, rhcloTS and grammari,uls of late
an tiqu ity. Man y areas of this hi story are dark ; o nl y occasion-
a lly can we see the interaction of criticism and practice in the
tastl'S and styles of particular epochs. Nor is there very much
dcvclopmcllt. The basic questions were alm ost all as ked by Ihe
time of Aristotle; and Aristo tle's own sophisticated and pro-
\'oc'lI ive a"aly~is had less effect in later times than the si mpl er
atti tudes of rhetoric a nd na ivc IlOC t i~s w hi~h he e "d eavou r~d to
reject. Apart fro m the more or less fanciful specul ation of the
Neopla lonists, no ne w ideas appeared . We have to wait for the
impact of Ch rist ia n thinking heron: the trad itional r6le of the
'styles' cou ld be n:-asst:Ssed. o r fn!Sb though t given to the
a ncient proulem of the relation het ween poetical fiction and the
world wh ich it 'reprl"SC Il IS' . Ne>t;rthdess the histo rica l circ um-
stances in which anden t 'critic ism' moved are full or inte rest,
not lea~1. rerha ps. hecause so mu c h of it is grounded o n th e
pra(;ti(;es of educatio n. Fo r the rhetorical cr iticism of antiq Ili t)'
;, "ery la rgely the wurk uf teachers. Diunysius, 'Longinus',
Quintilia n, even Aristotle and Plato, {'nvisage young audi{,ll cC'S
whose tas tt'S art to be formed and skills develolX"<i. T here is
here a resemblance, perhaps uncom fortable, to the stat e of
affairs in our OW II day. T rue, we no longer teach rhctoric bll!
on ly encourage ·creativi ty'. We no longer ma ke the ancient
d a$,ics of our lite ratures the foundat io n o(studv, or trllst to a
'7 0 Criticism in Antiqui!J'
thorough soaking in them to bring up a man in the way he
~hould go- though we did just this less than a century ago. But
the justification of the stud y of literature, when o ne has \0 be
made, still commonlr lies outside the vcrrntl <ITt itsd f, in mom!
goals ofintegrily, emo tio nal maturity, or recommended social
attitudes. Our predecessors, the rhelOrs and g rammarians of
anti q uity, trod, if nu\ the same palh, one that pointed in the
Same di rection. And so, given thcconstancy in their educat ional
ain,. , it is no wonder that the semblance ofa cohcrenl system
can be constructed OUt orlhe;r wri lings. AI least, there is a $(:1
of interlocking problems, which ca n be pUI in some kind of
order. This is (he second thing I have tried to do.

(i ) I began wilh the poet. W hence come his powers? Are

they entirely derived from human ~ kill , or entirely dependent
on something beyond ordinary rational principles ? Or is some
co nsensus of impulse and effort needed ? And, if so, what comes
from ,~i Ihout, "nd 'W ha I from will. in ? CI ..... cly Iinked wi, h . he..:
questions is the problem of the poet's function. Is it entertain-
ment or instruction -or, again, can we have it both ways?
(ii l These qu~"!;tions, which we re prominent in the thinking
of Dt:mocritus ,,,,d Plato, 'Longinus' and the Stoics, imply a
further and mun: sear<;hing set of issues, relating to the nature
of poelry itself. T ht.--st: \Centred, in all ancient ~pecula tion , un the
notion of mimisis. Was il righ l \0 \Consider poetry II n 'imilation'
of reality, in the way that painting and sculpture werc fairly
obviously 'imi tations' uf ubjccts in thc sensible worl d ? Or has
' imitation'. when a pplied \0 poetry, to be used in a new way, or
even in more ways than onc? P rac tically Ihe whole of ancient
literary Ilwory- that is IU say the search fur principles which
might form a framework fur n itica l judgment, ;lnd set '!itera-
lure' in an undcnnandable place among other human aClivities
- turned on Ihc significam;e and aptnes.' of thi s notio n of
mUl'iJis.
(iii) From the theoretical point of view, <l5 I\ ristolle fur
exam ple UndCl"l;loocl it, and rightly un derslood it, verba l com-
mun ication fo r t he sa ke of per-masion was nOI ' i mitat ivc' a I all.
Rh ctoric and poetic,!; wcre two distinct branches ofknowlcdgc.
T hcrc was an ovcrlap ofmt"<lium - words - but no ovcrlap of
 Epl/()g1U , 7'
purpose. T he only part of rhetoric which was of significance for
(he unden.landing of poetry, on this view. was the study of
st)'le - diction , word-arrangeme nt and figures. But we do nOI,
of course, find th is attitude a t all in Aristotle' s successors, or in
Ihe mass of comment on poetry Ihat survives from H ellen istic
and Roman limes. \ \'e cannot understand Di onysius or
'Longinus' without bOlh thinking of the rhelo rical sludy of
slyle and of'i"ve n lion' and being prepared to read the poelll as
though tlH~y to<), li ke the Orators, aimed to 'persuade'. I have
tlu:refore attem pted a brief ou tline of these lopics a lso. It is a
facl of a ncient history thaI much 'criticism' was derived from
instruction given to buddi ng Ofa IOrs, o rigina lI y for wboll y prac,
tical purposes. What wa s this instruction like? And in what
way~ did it, existence a lkct the ways in which prople read
literature of all kind~?
(iv ) And fin a lly, what would that last ph rase, 'literature of
all kinds'. have conveyed to our witnesses! In othe r words,
whal !\Or( of map of li teratun: can he reconstructed? Here, Ihe
answers I ha\"e sugges u:d will perhap>; seem tOO nl'gati\"e.
Differentiation by genre, un denia bl e in ancient pr ~ctice, ;., les..
dea r in theory than has often been thou ght. And the historical
dirn ~nsion, the differentiatio n of literature by chronological
periods, wa'i w met hing vc ry imperreetly understood .

I end on a personal notc . Somc twenty years ago, whe ll I em·

barkcd on a fairly seriolls >Illdy of ' Long in us', I fc h thilt this
was somethi ng likely to help me , and illso (hose whom I was
Iry ing to teach , to undn,tanri the q uali ties of ancicnt Ii terat me
ocllcr. It filled gaps, supplied the context (hat I'lat o and Virgil
took for grantcd . I s( ill feci (his is largdy truc. Despit e inep!i.
tudes- hi.l lac k <>f u mlnstanding of "r/;,,";IIH, hi, l'e<iami c. a p_
plililtion of the rules of dUQmm - ' Longinu" has important
thi"!,,,, to say. He was right , il seems to mc, in associating the
'decline ' ",hi,;h prt'()<;f;upiC'\ him with a la ck of cap ,I ci ty to feci
and convey genui ne emotion. II is a di,t;nct;\"e m~rk of the
Grcek li (erature of the empire that, though ckga nt, powccful
in description and much concerned with the ex ternal world ,
it h,~, lillk human interest. ' Longilll!s' p ll t his finger on th is,
wha«:\"(;r we ma r th in k of his conventionall y moral istic
'7'
explanation. And his combination of rhetorical and moral
thinking in th e interpretation of orators and poets still provides
a model - best shown in his famous treatment or lhe Marathon
oath commonplace-for close reading of ancie nt literature
within ;ts tradition. What he says- and th e same goes for th"
less attractive Dionysius and Ikmetrius-is often true, and
always worth thinking about. It never amounts to th e whole
truth. But what criticism cou ld claim thai?
 Appendix

Till; translations which lollow a re int ended to illustra te the

foregoing narra tive and d iscuss ion by providi ng a few addi-
tio nal pieces of evidence, not in ALe.
T he arrangemctH of authors is a lphahet ica l, no! c hrono-
logica L

AG,\THAR C HIDES

Criticism of Htgtsias

s~<: Cha pl er I I I I. The extract given here is taken from

Pho( iu5 BiMh,lhua , cod . 250, H.'ib ff. (cd. R . Henry, vii , 147 If.).
It is not always d ea r how much is Agalhaf(~ hides, and how
much is Pho tius' own words; hut lhe main lines of the crilicism
are clear enough. /o.'l y translation diverges from Henr y's in
severa l pla u"S .
T he 'lUQtatiotls from Hcgesias are ediled in F. J acoby, Fr.
fir. H i'l. '4'l F6--17, 2.')- 6 .

M any orato", and poet!; ha,-c no t known ho w a man who has nO!
experienced the dange", Iho uld report ext reme dio;as(eO'1;, The.'c is no
dear way of doing Ihi. excep l by givi ng an adeqllale rea""" for
describing Ihe sit ll alion.
Alexander and Philip .acked and rased 10 Ihe ground the two
 CriliciJm in Alltiquity
'"
cit;" of Ol)'nthu! and Thebes.' The horror of tile unex pected even!
made many o f I h~ Grech desperately concerned 300m their whol e
situation and afforded many o raW", grounds for r<:p~n ling it
in a manner suitable 10 the d isaster. Some therdoN: spo ke of it
allegorically and in what is thoughllo he daoorat c language, oth"rs
more weightily, not aV(liding wmmon ""oni! and literal expressions
in lh" '''Trible circum,,"n""", \ Vc shall .how examp1 ", o f Ix)\h of
th"c, $0 that )"0<1 may compare the Iwo styl es and judge .... hich is
heue. and which is worse.
Hcgesias, who oflen memions Ih" de:i1TUction of Ih e ci ties, is a
cheap writer (tuttlis). One who i. u"willing 10 express him<elf in a
ma nner appropriate to the situation, hUI fo rces himself to display io_
gen ui ty m'e. a seriou. malter, no do ubl achieves his own aim to some
eXlenl, but dUd nOI .el his sight. on Ihe importance ofl ht underlying
facts . Hegesias can be detecled eommilling Ihi, fault in his ' peech.,..
For example: 'W e lefl a cily and took a name: Now consider. T his
ca uses no emotio nal impact ; it ma kes us concentral( o n the Spe<;:ial
emphasis of th e words and max es U5 wo nder what he means. When
one produces in tellectual uncertaint y, one in.rantl y loses emo tional
force. Wh y? Ikca use sympathy com es from clearly unde n tanding
what is said; a " 'riter who f.~ ils to aehicve clarity alw loses vigour
(mtrg";d: a va rianl read ing give. tndrg';d, 'v i,·idn t:S$·).
He writes of Ihe T hem. ns in ,;miIH vein. 'Disaster has made
speechless the place Ihat spoke $0 loud ! And again of the Ol ynthiaos :
' l leli a city often thousand people, and when I turned back I ~aw
it no more.' W ell , what were you lookin,~ fo r ? These words, bearing
such spec ial emp hasis, have di, lrac, ted the mi lld from the , ubject . A
wriler who aims at pi ty mUSt give up wit , and oct OUI Ihe facts to
which Ih( emotion is related , if he is 110t merely to produce an degant
"erhal effect hU! 10 get right into thc cause of thc disaster.
BU 11~ 1 u. look at another ""a mple. 'A lex~nder, imagi ne Ep~min·
ollda, can see the ruin, of hi, ci t}·, :md stand. beside yon "nd plead s
on its beh~lfwith me ." A c.hild i,h demand." h"nh metaphur- and a
to tal failu re to express the grimness of the event . Again: "rhe city
w Uided wjlh a king', madnelll and becam~ more pitiful thHn l.
tragedy." T he wphisl hascvidcntly I'mv idw tor anyth ing rather than
what he o ugh t, and the con "'<Juen~e is th at he fails 10 touch Ihe point
at issue. !t is grie,..,u, to o bserve the la nguage of mockery ill such a
grie,..,us situation.
Again : 'Wh y spea k of Ihe sufferings of Ihe Ql ynthian, and the
Thcbans. the death of whol~ dl ies~'
I Philip ... ,·k,d Ol)"",h", in 11l:J ~.c .. AI • • • nder ,ad <:d Thebes in 335 -
 Appendix t75

Another exam ple of Ihe ,amI: kind borden on oot h si!lintsS and
undignili(d IIdller}':
'When you rased T hch.:. '" the ground, Alcxandc,', it was as ifZcu,
cast the moon o ut o r its place in heaven , For I leave the su n to Alhen~_
T he5c twO cities wcre thc eyes of Greece. I fear now for the o ther , For
one eye, the city of Thebes, has been CUt out'
II ""'Ill' 10 me that in this passage the sophist i. ridic uling the mis-
fortune5 of the ci ty, nOi lamenting them , and secing how he (an chop
up hi, speet:h small , in the rn",t rapid manner, nOt how he can bring
the d isaster ulld"r Ou r C)'~-S by "ivid descri ption,
Another sim ilar instance: ':'\!eighoouring cities Wepl ror Ihe ci ly,
secing that whal W3..S Ihere bef(,re was Ihere no 10llger_' If anyone harl
ul1ered period, like this to the Thebans and Olyrlthians as an ex -
pr=ion of s)'mpad,y at the time of the capture of the cities, 1 fear
Ihey would h:,,'c laughed ,II th,' wriler and thoughl him, in ""'''y,
wrctd,eder than they were themsel>-e5,
L"t u\ look at ,uK)thcr tnK: of l"Xampk, in ( ~) t he ~"ne suphi!!: 'it i!
dreadful thai the land Ihal bore th~ Sown ~l cn .hould be (In><o',,,• .'
This is (101 how Dcmoslhen~-s ( " 'hose idea liegesia. h,,' here ruined )
h"d PU I it, Dcmosthcn.... ~a)'~ that it i, shocking that Auira, the firS(
land 10 hear cu ltivaTed croltS for men, should I>e grazed hy sh~'Cp.'
Hcgtsias - in . aying Ihat the l"nd dm' oore the Sow" 1Iltn was
unso"'n -tah. hi. antithesis from "'ords, nOI from raCI,_ Th e
consequence is appaUinf: frigidity, like that of Hermesianax' in his
cncorlli"", "f Atlren,: '&;n. "", "f ,I",head (k'PMIf) of Zeus, il is
",,,ural she sh""ld h",'r. tlr" sum (k'phalaion ) of ltaJ>pi,,~-'
rO lher similar examples from Hegesias loliow,]
Ag",h~rchidcs thcn produces OratOn. who 'poke On Ihe.ame theme
with darity and appropri,"e d~'Cency, 5t ralodes: -The <oi tadd of the
T heha ns is plou)thed and sown -Ihe Th ehans, whn fought at your side
Hgaimt Philip !'. T his pa""ge ooth gi,'Cs Hdear ac( ount of whal hap_
pelletl 10 Ihe';;, y ami .-;a ll, 10 III ind d,e Adrcnia",' fr ienrlship wit h thm
unlr"I'P), p':"ple; jux'''I''"i,ion "f 'erroT wi ,h Ii-iendl)' fed ing "dd.
",eight 10 expression of pit)',
He also eiles Aes<:hincs: 'A dt y, our Ileighboll r, has va nished from
,he mi.l" or Gr~..,.,c , 'j T his cxcdlcnlly c"nv")', Ihe spe.;d "I' ,Ill: .11:-
'In a )""'p«ch, apparcnttv_
'F" (;,_ !I"" tigrT"
• Son of Eu' h)'dem"" • t>ro"' incn' Orator (If 'he Ia'er I(lunh <mlury,
Tire>< ntrac." probabty CO"'e fro", Iri •• peed, On 'he Har!"'tu. alfair: d.
Dinarchu, r , ~4 _
' .-Il di. " CI",p"&~ r:l3. Curiorr,I)" ,h;" 'r_~' tlor. no' repr""u~. 'he f.a,ur.
,)" Cn',icum in Anliqui~

S!rl,ction by the metaphor, and also bri "g. Ih~ dangen vividly (0 mind
by ih""';"g Ihal the ,,,ffCN!n aN: the n<:ighoouI"$ of d,t! audientt.
ikmoslhenes made AJ" xander the • .,bjecL 'He dug up Ihe ci ty
from its foundations. leaving not even Ihe ash in the heanh., and
distributed the children and wives of the one-lime leaders of Greece
among the (cnts of the ba rbari an,.'· Demoslhenes here takes the ex_
treme con~uenca of each aclion , and e~pra.ses them biuerly,
dearly and concisdy; but he has nO! forgollen the vividness thai
makes facts clear.
Demosthcncs again on the Olynthians: 'OlynthlLl and Methone
and Apollonia - and IW<J a nd thiny ~ ilics in Ihe Thra~ian
area- all
of which he destroynl so .,,,,a:;:dy thaI a vis.ilOr could nol easily lell if
Ihey had tv.,. been inhabited at alL " DcmU5lhcnes here ",,,krlined
th~ number of th~ cities and th~n added the misfortunes of the in -
habitam., SO that the panicular rompal'lion amu..ed hy the paradoxkal
fact might move thc sympathy of the hcarcn all the mOre.

'ALEXANDER NUMENIU'

T his Alexander , 'the son of Numenius', lived in the time of

Hatlria n. He was an important anti influential rhetor. Th e
following extra ct comes from a venion (of uncertain proven-
ance and authenticity) of his treatise on figures. Sc<: Th.
Schwab, 'A!exandros Numeniu', Wunburg 1916. Text from
Spengel, Rlull)!'($ G rato, 3-1 t.I8-3. ' 3'"1O. See Chapler I n. 29, IX
B.

Before proceed ing fintto con, ider Figura (J{h/",ata) of T hou gIll , lei u.
briefly answer t~ who entirely deny their existence. Ther<: arc
some who say that there is nothing special about a FigureofThougitl,

of the pa .. ag< ".hich w", mos, admir«l fOr iu pathos- the '""l"'lition 'Th~bts.
Thd"" __ ' .
• Ag~in in a losl >t>ttch.
' Cf. P~;I;ppit' 3_~6_
 APPtlldlX '77
for no unfigured discourse (logo. ) can ea,ily be found, T his, the~' say,
is jnevitable, ,ince discourse depends on the configuration (",alu_
po"J ) of thc mind (pmdll), and indeed waj invented to e><pr= the
mi nd 's forms, experience and movement' in generaL Now the mind
is in eOn,tant motion , and (l. kes On many figurations (schi"'ali.m~i) ,
e.g .... hen it ddines, repro" cs, t"kcs cou n.d, or docs or experienn'.
anyone of tile Ihi ngs which h"pp<:n to it . T hus disco urse , inasmoc h
as i, is a copy (mimima) oflhe ,nind, will ncce&;,"'ily ha>'c SOllle figure
(j{hima) or other.
In r.:ply 10 I his. we can say,

(i) If there wer.: nO dislinction Ix:lwttn """,ral ,hought (kala

phu.in dial/om".) a nd thoughl that is figurerl (n{himalijmmon), orators
would he no difl'c''CIlI from laymen (idioMi, i.e. ordinary people) nor
from one another ; the simpler unadorned wri,ers would be no differ_
elll from the more vi"id and elaborat~. Now it is dear that the o ralor
d<>e'l cl iffer from the layman in the way he fashions his figu res, a,
ora,ors dilfer one from "nOlher in the frequency and appropriateness
of their u.e of flgu r", .
(ii) Although ,he mind is ine"ilably ah"ay, in a certain con figura_
tion, it h;1S SOme 'natural" and some 'unnalural" mO\·ement,. Th i,
applies hoth to its 'table, rational co nd ition a",\ to its emo tiona l
slales , which are . hc source of ernoli"nal dis<;ourse. S imilarly, di~­
course rn a)" have a na t llral or hahitual configuratiOll. and thi$ (we
say ) does nOt dmOunl tu " 'figurc', dnd ,,1>0 " consciously fomted
(prpla.mroM ) conr.gu ralion. which dOd Mnount \0 wha l "'c ca ll
'r.gured'discourse.
(iii) Evcn if One wcre 10 grail! that every discourse has its Own
figure by nature, ne"erthdess, o ralorical and literary discourse
(}><>Iilil,,,, kai ,~"g'aphiko,.log~, ) doe. "o1 poMCSIi thi, naturally. hut hy
imitation of Ihe olher kind. Evidencc of thi. may be .Ccn in the
following example. Ther.: is a way of spea king which naturally ex_
preSS<'!; a <,crt"i n di>lractio" or the mind: 'Wh ich way Shall \ go-th i,
or that ?" T his expres.,ion doe, ,,'" ha"e a fi~"re. we '''y: a"d " 'by?
lX..:au"," it is exprnsed naturall y and the 'p<:a ker is reall}' al a I""",
T here i, anOlher expre<-.io n. produ<:o-,d in imitatio n of Ihis. alo;n in_
,'ok in8 doubt: ' I n Ihc o lher G rcck. - shou ld ,,·c "'Y Ih~ir cowardice
or their ig "oranc~ Or bot h ? ... " 1\0,," thi, does contain a figure. T he
spe aker is not rt'"lly at a loss. but pITt~nds to Ix: >0, and imitatcs a
bew ildered spea ker by a voiding stra ightforv.·a rd expression. We ca n

, t:"ripid",II"."" ,63.
, D, ,orONa 20.
, 78 C.ilicim< In AlltiquilJ'
(herefo~ allS .... .,r
those who deny the existence of Fi gures of Thought
by saying 1ha1, (veil if ,,"ct)' discourse has its a,,'ll figure by nature,
therto is nothing 10 prevent di",o,,~ from b<:ing contrived and feigned
in imitation of 'hi"

What is feigned in ,hi, way is thus called 'figure' in a spo:cial sense,

and it is Ihis that we are now d iscussing, nO! all disoourx which
possesses any kind of configuration. A further sign that there a,..,
figuro 'by nature' and figuro 'by art' is that e\'cry figure - in th e
in which we a re using the word - may b<: rnIuced 10 illl natural
",, 'iSe
condition. Thi, is very clear in some cases- e.g. irony, allegory and
hyperbok- but difficu h to see in others, e.g. various kind s of Thetori-
cal questions and figures of doubt.
T he same reply may b<: made also to those " 'ho deny the existen ce
of Figures of Dic! ion. on the grou"d !ha! e,"cry ""rbal COmpoo.ilioll
(su ~I"'~is) has iu OW" figure (scMma) and nOlhing recondite or
artificial (kala plas,~) . BUI rh etorical plasis. we may say, is different
from that of laymen. and on" orator spea ks betlef than other . Again,
there are indeed particular ",uuml figures of "crbal composit ion. and
al so figures derked from these by imitation through the art of the
orator. And finall ~', figurcs of diclion may be red uced \0 Iheir na! ural
condition with varying degrecs of difti cult y.

ANONYMOUS

IVhy did I'laia compose dialoguL$.'

Th i, "xlr",,1 is from
chaplCO 14- 15 of an anonymou s
' Introduction to Plato·, of laIc NL"UplalOnic urigin (L-d. L. G .
\V~tcrink, Amsterdam tg62 ). Sec Chapter IV 8.

A fU rlher qucslion deserving in\"cs!ig,u ion i..... hy P[;IIO uscd Ihc

dialogue form (d!<lMAcIi,) . HUT hefore discussing Ihi. leI u~ expla in
.... hal dialogue i,.
II is a logo, wilhoUT meITe , co"sisl i ,,~ uf quo!i"", and allSwe" by
' T~XI and .... ' ''''' .",,,,,rlain: I ,rad .,,,/,n ~n kOJwi for 4O/ki, Q. fjpo; in ,~. 3~ ,
 Apptluiix '79
various ch"mctcr"S, with the appropriate characterisat ion (illw-
pt)iia) . ..
[t is worth in<[uiring why, when Plat<> d«:where is ho&tile to
variety' ... he has neverthel~,", himse[f "sed the literal)' form of the
dialogue. ""uk u p as i, is of va rious r!.araner"S . It may he ~ ugg","rd
that the variety or <;hara<;ler in comed y and Iragedy is nOt the same
as in P[alo. In comedy and tragedy, the characters are good and bad
and r~main the ~me, whereas in Plato. although hOlh g<.><>d and bad
chara<;ters "rC !<> be found. we Sec ,he bad c.;hanlo:ed by the good, in_
struftrd and puril;ed and generally withdraw " from their ",atena[
life. 'Variety' then i. different in 1'["10 and in the o ther aut hors; SO he
is nOt guilty of ",[f_contrad iction ,
We have therdorc now t<> explain the reaSOn why he employed thi!
fo rm ofwri\ing.
Ou r anSwer i. that it is bc<:au"" the dia logue i. a sort of un i"eT3C
(A·rumor). For. just a •• in a dialogue. there art' differ.. nt p<""""ns eaf h
speaking a, is appropriate. 00 in the uni"e"", as a whole there arc
differtn t naturallhings utltring their different voico; [or each spta ks
affording to ils proper natUre , I'[alo therdore did (his in imita(iot, of
I h ~ works oflhe di"ine craftsman, namely th~ uni"el'S('.
An aiternati,'c ",:asun l\ lhat thc ulli,'cfS<" is a dialogue. Fo,. just as,
in tlor uni'·en.~, tlonc arc ouperior and inferio r natur.,... and the soul
agrees nOw ",ith the one and now wilh Ihe o ther, so in the dialogue
thcre are charaners ",100 refUle and ot hers ",ho are refuted, and ou r
sou), [i ke" judge, sUTTe mkrs i,,,,[f firs, to the One and thtn to the
other.
Or again, it may he becau"", as Plato himself says, a 'peech i~
analogous '0 a li"ing an imal. and the finest ~l>ttfh ",ill t herefore bt:
analogom (0 the finest animal - and that is (he uni,'erst. No", th~
dialogue, as"'e have seen. is analogous to thi ,; it is therefore d'e finest
kind ofspcech ,
'" fourth argutlle", is the [or [owing. Our soul eltioy. imi tation. " nd
the dia[ogue is 'Ill imi "'tion of different persons. 1·le therefore doc..
,hi. (0 d,ann 0"'" ""ul. T ha( (he ..... ,,1 d"... . tak~ plca,ure in inoi(a\io"
is sltnwn by the fi,C( th"t. as children , we [ike slOries,
A runher ;orgumc'" of the samc kind is that hc adopted thi, form
of writing so 3. not to prese'" US with hare facts. stripped ofpersons.
For n ."nplc. in discussing frirndship, he dcsin-d nOt 10 spe" k or
friendship itself but of friendship e.xisting in certain indi"i" "als. and
similarly with ambition. S""ing others refuted or comme nded , as it
were, our soul is compelled to,ts.scnt to the rcl'll1ation or ,tdmire those
, I.c. in hi, cli",,,,,,ion ofm",ic ~"d drama in R,pobl;, Il - lll.
 Crilicism iq Aqliquily

who a re commended. Thi. is li ke the souls in Hades who.ee others

puni.hed for their sins and ~come ~ttcr out of fear of the p"naltieo
that th ey endu re.
A sixt h argumen t is that he ado pted the dialogue form beca~ he
was rep resenting di al ectic. A di alogue consi.SIS of p"l"SOm asling and
answering q uC:'lIio!l1, j Wlt as di al ec tic ari..", from question and answe r.
He therefore used thi. fonn of,,·rit ing in order to comp" lthe !Oul. as
dialectic doe! , to bring to birth th e thought it has within it; he doo:s
not ~Iie\"e the soul to ~ an uniZlscri ~d tablet.
Seve nthl y : he want. to ma ke us attend to what i• .aid by making the
sp"akers different, and pn:vl:nt us from nodding off because o ne
p"l"SOn i, imtructing uS aU the lime. (Th i. happ"ned 10 Aeschineo the
orator, on a public "pp"arance . .. standing On the platform a nd
sp"a king, with no conversation, qu~tion or answer , he failed \0 keep
the jury awake, and they dri fted off in lo sleep ; the ora tor OOscf\·ed
this, and sa id ·Have a good dream about the case!') T hose who
take part in a (onvcrsat ion a re aroused by asking and an ...·cri ng
queotioru;.

CAL LIMAC H U S

See above, Chapler I II short extracts give Ihe

t. T hese two
essence of 'Callimachean' poetic ideals. See ~ 1. E. Hubbard,
Proptrtiu$, pp. 78 If.

(aJ TM mighty ",." onJ 1M limpid spring

Mali ce spoke softly in Apollo'. car: ' ] do no t ad mi re the poet wh"",
song is not as g rea t aslhe sea·s.'
Apollo kicked Malice wilh hi, foot, a nd said : 'Grea t i. the stream
nfthc ri'·cr nf As$yria, but it drags down O il iu waters all th e fi lth and
rubbish of the land. Yet the Bed' do n al bear water \0 Oro from (:>."(;1)'
source. hut onl y from the liul e trickle tha t sp rings pure and undefi lrd
from a holy fo untain. the fine Ho..... er of wateB.
(Hymn 2. 1O:,- 11 )

I Meli ...... pri~" uf IX<> ( .. D.:mctcr).

 A.ppendix ,R,
(b) Apoll~'s addu IQ liu 1-'
When I fint ,et my tablet on my kn ee'. Lyeian Apollo said to me:
' P()(:t, rear your sacrificial victim as fat as you can, but please keep
your M use thin.: And I give you one other instruction: tread the
paths the waggons do not go by; do not dr;\,e your chariot in the
tracks of others, nor on th e broad road , but by untrodden paths. e,'en
if you drive a naITO"'er way.'
I did a, he said. I sing among those who li ke the dea r note of the
cicada , not the noise of donkers. Let otbers bray li ke long-ear; I
wou ld rather be the lit tle winged on", at any cost - tO sing and drink
the dew that drop" from hea\'en. and strip off old age, that lio upon
me hcavy as the three_pointed island liCi on dread Encdadus,J
( .~'Iia fr. 1.21 - 36)

010 C HRVSOSTOI<'1

011 1m liunet oj /JfJtIJ, and lJpuiall;' oj Homer

See Chapter V III 8. T his extract (Ot. !2.66 ff. ) comes from a
speec h (del ivered at the Oly m pic games in 97 or !O! A.O . ) on
the ways in which men a cquire a know ledge of Goo . See in
general 1\1 . J>ohlcnl. 1>1, S/oo ii. "9: K. Reinhard t. P05rit!ollios,
408 [ T he sculptor Phidias is imagined explaining how much
easier the poet'S craft is than hi s own. " 'Ian has a rich inheritance
ofwor&;, a nd poetS are especially bles..ed.

The "rt (.r 'he poe!> is pani~lIlaTly fre~ from ('QnS1rain' and <Cri,icism,
especially that of Homer, who has the gft'atC'St li berty of any. Homer
did not choose a single type of speech. hilt ",ok Ihe whole Hellen ir.
language, rnnnerly di"id<:<l inlo ,h" languages of the ])orian~. I olli~ Il'
and r\ then i""" and mixed it a II together, a, painters do colours, only
mOre freely stilL Nor did he confine himself to hi, own time, bllt hi,
'Cf Virgil fA. 6.1 H'.
, t·o. ,hi, comparison. ~f. t:o<. ''',cui" f"u",,, 637 IT., ,,·her~ old age is '''ea\,;c<
,h.n ,h~ roo;k. of t:'1\a'.
,8, Criticism in Antiquiry
love of word5led him 10 pic k up obsolete 0""" from his prede<:eI$Ol"$,
li ke old coins from a IUasUU that no one o",nro. He look up many
words from th e barbarians 100, sparing "othing so long as it sumed \0
offer 3 pleasing Or '-;gO.oU$ cffc~!. H e took m c taphon no' only from
neighbouring fields, near to Ihe original concept, but from mOTt
remote a reas alSQ, SO as 10 bewitch, amaze and charm his hearers. Nor
indttd did he le",'" these words as Ihey werc, bUI lengthened,
contracted and olherwisedislom:d them. Fina lly, he declared himsdf
to hi: a makrr (".w,,£) not onl~ of metres but of ,,,m:l.. I'mdu"ing .hem
e ntirdy oU! of his own hnd. Sorne lima he would simp ly ailSign names
10 things, Wm"lim.,. he ,,"Quid gi,'" nc"- names o'"cr and above the
proper ones (bria) , adding a clearer and yet more obviuus mark
(Jph'agis) 10 existing ones, as it werc. No noise dcreatcd him; he could
imita te the sound of riven, forests, wind$, fire and sea, of bronze and
SlOne and eve.,' living creature o r tool-birds and beasts, flutes and
pip<'!!. He in'"ntro k(l1lQ(hi "nd /,gmix1.<. ktupos and MufJ6J "",I amh<>s [ie.
clash, boom, clauer, Hasl" rattle!; he spoke of murmuring rivers,
screaming aITo ....., clamorous waves, angry wind, and all sort, of
strange things li ke that, thowughly confu~ing and diSlurbing the
mind, Consequently, he had no lac k of words both frightening and
pleasi ng, 'm<><.>th and rough , and ind~~d ~ ing couml""" mher
differences in sound and ;n ""me, With thi, poetic skill he was able to
;mplal1l any emotion in the mind tha t he wished, '" II is cas)' for poets
loembrace ma flYshapes and forms of all kind, inlheir poetry. a""ign.
ing rnm-ernCIH and rest to them as they judge appropriate al any given
moment, and also actions and words, ch ange and dc ..elopmcnI in
t;me .' For the poet is <:arried away by a single id~a and impulse of his
mi nd and dra ...." up a q uantity of word., like water bubbling up from
a .,pring.' bcfOT(' hi, r:nn, ..y and id,'" {,il ,,,,d di!<aI'I"'''r. O"r art. lIy
contrast , i, laborious and slow, proceeding slep br step afld with
e/lorl , wor king as it does in sol id, stony material. The hardest Ihing of
all is thaI the sculptor has to keep the ,ame image in hi. mind aU the
time, until he loa, finished the .... ork, oflen for man y years. It may in·
deed be true, 3.< they say. that e)'es ar~ more reliahle than ears; but
Ihe), are much harder to con\'inc~ and Il~~d a much clearer im·
pression. For 'ight cOlll rihules 10 the obje<;t!; it seeoi, wherea, h(ari ng
can be deceived and exci ted by sending in iu direction imitation. en·
dowcd with the magic of metre and sound. Moreo,"er, the li mit!; of
o ur art;n rClll"'ct of number and size are fi xed b)' necessity, but ~ts

, I tran, lalc E"'pc,ius' a"op> , though " 'ithout conr,don<:<:, Tho tradition
h . opa/I; , ·d",,,;t'.
'Cf. abm'c Chapter V 2,
 Apptndix

can ma ke thing,; as big as rhey liK e, It was easy for Horner to say of
Strife t hat 'she had her head in heaven, ,,,,d yet walked upon the
ea rt h'. J But I ha"e to be ,ati,tied to fill Ihe 'pace allOl:atNl to me hy the
[l eans ur the Athenians.

'D [O~ Y S I US'

I'rindplu oJ ailicism appli£ab/t 10 dfClamalions

Th ~ lwo e:<tracrs from rhe 'Art or R heroric' falsely ascribed to

Di on ysiu, of H alicarnassu, corne from the sect iuns discussed in
C h apter I 4 · See also EnlMlitnJ Hardt 25 ( 1979) I t3- 34'

(a) ,lrI '!! Rhflori(

(0" Ih, ,-"aminal;"" oJ ,purh,s),
II I (374.6-376,7
Usener .Radermacher).
T he greatest d anger. hot h lor young and old, is conceroNl with the
judg ment ofSI>ee<;h~ (Iogoi ). We arc always praisi ng and bla ming at
random, our opinion' unsupported hy knowledge. Consequentl y, not
only are Ihe same ol~ects both praised and blamed at dilferent lima
by different people, but at differ" n\ times by the same people. T hose
",ho arc ignorant of arithmetic never "'y the same eidler to One all ·
other Or to outside ... concerning the ,arne question; thei r ignorance
i. demon'trated by thei r disagreement . •,"Iost of us are in t his state as
regards speeches. O ur opinions are TI~\'cr stable; wc praise what we
formerl)" found fault with, and tind f:~ult with what We formerlr
praised. For we are beguiled by the repute of those who express their
views and ha>'e regard to their pH:sti)!;c, rather tha" using "u" Ow"
judgmNl l. Wc ".,.,.-I" ,." Ic • .> .ra,,,brd.,, wdl_dc/,noo touch"onc. hr
considerin!/: wh ich wc can incline our judgment one wa), Or thc OIher.
[ will put my "iew to )·Otl. In mr opinioll , there arc four points 011
whkh appredation and judgment $hould rest. T hese are: character
(i/M.< l . thought ~,,6"'t1, art ( 1~""" 1 , diction (f•.,il ). We must therefore
always con~ider, in rdation to c"crythi ng tha t " 'c read aloud Or hear
Or gct to know in "n)' way, what rn.nc fi t or diSl,dvantagc it giVe!< in
these four respects. T here are no standards apa rl from these.
J II. 4,443.
 Crilicnm in Anliqui[y
I,;, important '0 und~t'I,a"d what I mran_ Etho.<. I say. is of '''"0
kinds: general and ~micular. I will npla io oow I define the differ_
eoce. 'Geoeral ' i11roJ is that whic h ~ ba~ed on philosophy. Wha, is
,h i,? I t is ,hat which encourages us '0 vir,ue and dissuades u' fronl
vice . By 'particular' ilho., I mean the rhetorical kind . And what is
Ihis? II co nsists in speaking onlhe subject in hand in a manner suitable
and appropriatc 10 thc 'p"aker, the hearer, ,he subject, and the
opponent. H ere is the tes t for all th e books (/tiblia ), ancient and
modem _And what do [mean hr that ? T he books are full ofcharaclers
of justice and injustice, temperance and intemperance. courage and
cowardice, wisdom and foil)", good temper and anger. One can leave
Out ,he names, a[,.trar,t th e r,haracteJ"S, and phil' >50phisc abuut life,
imitating some whi le avoiding Ihe others. For example. take the
character of Alexander Ii.e. Parisi in Homer: he despoils a host's
household and carries off anoth er man', wik One may detest hi.
character and avoid hi, misrortune~ his nati-"e city was dotroyed, his
house was overtbrown and he was grievously puni,hed both by ,he
gods and by men.

(b) Arl of R/"Iori< 10 (On mis/a!" in d"lama/ions ), I (359, 3 If.

Usener-Radermachtr) .
The following are mistak es in dedamations_ Some compooe their
,pttcho:s with nO atten,;on to chara cters, lx:cau~ ~her Ihink the ca,;c
i. one offact and character is an incidental. Others are no good at the
combina tion of characleriS!k~. I f the character is si mple and evident
to anyone, Ihey see ;t and f;oll upon it and make use of it; but if it is
double or triple or more complicated still, they make no s, udy of divi .
sions of char~cl ers or trouble themse[vo with ~heir comhination_
Consequently, the y do not <:nmest the case al all in terms of character ;
this aspect is confined to what are called rpipiwllimala, a few accidemal
charaCleristic remarks. Th ey are actua lly commended for this naked
expression of characler, whereas the whole case ought really to rest on
character, and characten ought to br; ","Oven inlf) the fact •• like the
",ul in the body. Agai n : they do nm present the one 'great' character
-Ihal which ~omes from philosophy ~ on whicb all the individual
characten, with their appropria,enns to ind i"idual penlO"', depend.
They are thus inferior in their use of character, be<:ause, even when
'hey ""cmp' charactet'l, they fail to preserve grandeur (mtgalop"",, ),
which is something that must be maintained (hroughoul_ f or, just as
Reason must prevail in the soul and Pa ..ion and {)nire br; sub-
serv ient to it, so that our exercise of paslIion is accompanied by reaSOn
and our indulgence io desires is nOt ahoge~her unreasonable, so in a
sp.·.·r), Ihe lOr... gr.·ar dr",."rwr. (I",-i""(1 from ph il()SUl'hy. ~h(}u Id pia)
the par! of Rcason in th,~ ~p""ch .1.\ a II hok. II hil<: the othrr d ements
:",~ .. r. pilY , wi\. Ili".· .... ~s<. elll')' <h""ld 1)<' ~dd~d i" d"l~:o"I .. "c"
" " r"aSOIl IIlld ill sud, cornbi nll t io", wil h on .. IIllolhcr "",,'e necess.ary.

DO'\"ATU S

Lijr if I 'hgil

T hi, ' L ife - i, la rgtk b~'('d on S,,~tOllill': j giH' all nl""si,'c

ex tra ct f'-om il I)()t h for its OW1\ inl~rnl alld as a 'IX'(; il11O'11 of
~nri ", " litnary Ir i"l:'ral'h} 'e,' C hapt.·r XI Tr~l in C. G.
Il ard i.,. I 'il{l~ 1'I'I;:ili,mllf (Imiq'''''' I ":, I

I' . \ '<'r).:ili u< ~ l.. ru 01':\ lantu" " ,._ "n,,"n Ilk parcntll).:C. "'p(Ti" II\' UII
lh.· sid.· of his f:' lhcr. who i, I.,id by",,,,,' 10 hn\~ I,,--.:n n IX;t1cr. 1,,,,
by ",0>110 1'lIn: I",elllh~ hired ,aY,II11 ,)I'UI1" :\lagl1s. a ,.ill/or,' ,,,,d
suhu'qucllI Iy. Ihallks 10 his illdu,(f~, Ih i, man', 5011 '; 11 , 1,1 w: it i, . :t id
I,~, Ihal h" nol ahl) i"cn·:L_.'d Ih" ",I"lann' of hi, I'rol"'rI \ III t,U) illl<'
",nods a",1 keeping he" •.
T h" I'(X I " ,:" burn io 1hc t,,,,, c•.... " hhi I) ur COl, I'on'p,:i " , \ Ingnu>
and ",I. Lio:inim e ra,, ,,,\ (i ,e. iO ".c.(. on Ihe Ides (,f Q ew l,..r. ill ~
"ilbge "allNI And", nol far fmm :\ Ianlll" . DUI'ing h~r prq;:nanC)'. hi,
lIlotlwr d,-":",,, Iha L sh~ !:,"''' bin h l u " hr,,,..-h of bn} _" hirh g.-ell '"
",-.m ,<> il l"Udl~d Ihe I>r<>und ,... (] .... ,,' <1.·,·.'101'..<1 inlo" hal ,~u'wd:o
Illailin' II'''''. lad"" wit II th, il a nd 11"... ,,1'\' "I' ,."rio,,< ki",k T h" nCKI
door, whe" ,I,,: "':.~ ",1I'cih nlt "'ill. I,..r h",I~" "II" ,, co. " "I)' place i"
,),,' ,,..igh l)()urh , 0001. , h,' l " rn cd "trd.c r""d "",I " a. rid i"acd of IKr
,' hi ld ill Ihe :«ljoin ing<iilch , Th~) "') Iha! Ih" hahydid nol cry "In'n
il """ I~,m. and h"d . "rh " ~,-"tle e"IH'""";,, ," (h ,,, ," 'ell al ,h."
m(}m,,," il g'''~ ~ ,om',' hop" "I' a happy 1>""ilul'c. Anod,..l' p(}rl .. ,,1
fi,II(}\\', ...! : a poplar ",,,,,d. plan,..d L~ local UbWm Oil Ifw SllOl ,d,,·rt·
Ih" d,ild "':" h(}m. gr.'''' so <fuid:ly Ihal il ~qll: oI l"d po pl:t rs planted
101l1:( Iwron ', It ... ~, (alb! \' ir~irs Ir~~ . ,wei "';'< hdd saU'~d L) Iht·
, A ;"burd,,,,,," ~llk'''I . "'''1'10",1 '" .. "". n"n'''~ I"'''''''' )",fure u",<:,, ·
le",,,._
""In.] P"~ W!:J oSI" 'IIiJ!U P" ~ s",,,. lf!d ., 'lJxllJu d ·11Q1'f~llJlIJ.] "'11 lX~ )>1
'pEOJ ,\'1 "'''P J<) l'l~!" "'\F1'" 'JJIP,"'JI 'O!)
: S'I! I "I'! 1I'1[ s.:> nn 's JO I" "''','' S!'I' 'I'" .11'''''1
: "Sp.pu~lI! J'I snow'~J"! S!'I "'J 'II" ~P 01 p:>"01' ,'C." 0'1-" ' O:I,! 11''11 J~""W
-(00'1:>'> ~'II <10 'PUI'P " ~"." "'\()(I " ~" 'Idw~ll" I")l)''''''[ I"'~ " H
-P)ll!"Jlllll ~ ll O ~ 'f!1
lSOUlI" puu AII""!!!'>'I .\J~_' "'f0.h ~'I ""1' slJ(}d ~J ,nSl'P I \' : ;t il" " I""
1"'1 -,(J " f U :>Jo}'''1 "'''J :>"" P~['O:"ld ~H '>'>!I"n'J'II "'" 1)1 ·' I I"!""'·!\'.>
pm' "u!"!p:>w 0, UO! ,UJIIl' I,,!) :xl. ",u lf ,)'1 'SO'!]'" I' J~'I'O S!'I :;;i" o,,,V
's,ul.[d"O ~u"'u J'I I J~l'"n <lun"w .lll'[l"~p .,IlJJ"U" II
'1l()(H.1""'" " 1''''' "! "'J~"U '."WI " ," ;ill!.'p "I!S '>I'''I'''''! ""I >!'I pm:
(pU!I'I"'M JJ'II"J '! 'I ) '1u~J"d "!4 lsol ~'I U~1.P' ""'" U.'" uj1 " ,,,.•, ,'H
"'I!~!<; 1'''': ,,!,":du,w.)
'" Ill.W':lJ'!''' ,II ."un IS< '"' In:>!!> ~'I 1"'1 :s"n')JJ" I\: JO "'''flJ''!)
J'p 01 ,:Q" ;'U!I!"bs:1 "4' IlO .'Ul"~ :>$110'1" 1""( P"" ·' P"·'!,'.! ' !'U"
'"
~1!SOJ"IIJlf :>'11 Ol ~~ IH"II '!;'»)JJJI'aS '~>O'O""'O I " Il".>11 ['.1>'I'->;>od J H
-1U!'1 P.}JJlJo sn ISllS nV
'P!'I." "I!n "" JO " 1J.)do.ld " 'II JdJJJ\l 01 JPSUI!llli"lJ\j IoU PI n,,) ) H
-~nO'I I $.JJ""" J 'II II! ~j1'1~J :ill! , ,,, '('1 '''!'! '" l'''lII!,x l
I"''' P",,,01l0) 01(" """1(1 I',([":"'~ ~I( 'Il'.'." "1"'''' ,\J",' ~'I ;>J)'I "
''''''O'M I" :>!('1'1(1 "I ".>,,1 'C," '''1 ".,"""" l. \ \ '.1 mil S,' 'A :>'11. 'S"! u;>'llJ ", I
P"II"" ,'!"Ol"IUOJ ""." ~Il ""Id,,~ I" w'll I"'!'U 1''''' l.p,>'([ ')O ,un!!
00; " '." "'I ''')!I '!'lJo I<.:IJ " 'II"! ·.il"!'!)"":) 'P~"'PJ '(I \ IIOIJ" " !U,d 1''''1
In'l'J~'1 ~.e4~ 01 SlIlJ" A " 'I P:>I! ,'''! lI.l"'l 11 :>11" I")!! I!:!,'!" IU'II '1'1" S"."
"'I' u ~'P' '.i", 0. 1'-"''' JI ..... ~4 " 1'''( .Il(' ''''I' " ·" Jlll" ,':>.>:>."0'1 . 11 11",1''',1
III !" o;.;-V -" !-'~! H "nol ,I 4'! ,It I).) " os" ,,:> osl" '''1 ''''I' I'! "s .\ I''''''It II.., ~ I' • (
'1:>Od ""'l" ."." ""'I":) I"''' ' jjU!UJ"J(Jo "a,u ~J~." 'l"tH '''!lI''J III!" !~V
UlOJJ 'U!1l 01 l U;JS;>Jd " s"_,, 0,(,,, pu c ' ~ !luJng ~'II J" ~ lIlfo[JJ PlIllJ;lS
:>'11 U! S!s:>IV ' 11"":> 4 "'01('" 'J"I'''~~~IY P"~ 9 '1 :>-. ) P"_'OI '(P"I""!IJ"d
~Il 1U0Il,")0 " "<XI 01 P"U!PU! )Ill,([dr. I'JIl x~s S! H ·JU,." .to ]>'.>0) ~ 1I)l1
'fOOl aH 'pool'l l"ds "~\Ju 1''''' '''''1''''1''',' 4 I'"" I""J'II .HII "P'''''''I'
:>1(1 ",0.') 'P"'" P"' ;l;IJ"\ :>'1 J<~ '41['-,1(1 " !"u.)Ju,, I)"e '"o:u"'J)<I" O)
" JO ~ool JI(I 'II!," 'uo!nldulln ,i'l ),0:," $ JO '''J '')\~ I S JO 11"1 SC'" " H
' ~ '''O li 0,
.:>U" uoo.- a:>u:>,p I'u" 'U"I! J ~ (H cu"",,,,:) U'\.>JJ ['.'-'QU, "·1(1) 1!:lJI ,\
1"'11 I'~!I' ,u!l:>,'~w l pod ~ 4'
-.,,,1' ;.""',
11"11 p:n" '~4) I! IH'" :d!4'1"5UOJ I''' u:>,os "!" 'I' j1"! .... "os ,\\0" 'u,'OlI ' '''''
~Il "" "I" sum ~'" L'S ,>111 J.l pUll '.'" I"I)J !( I 'I''' 'u \ u.>.,,>< ' !\1 110 Ie." ' P !'I."
'"SO] s, u"", "1(1 p:>wnss" "1l1!IUn '"uo,u;'J:) '" ~J !1 i IJ"H!I( Iu:xl~ " 1.[
'J')'(I 1'''0.\ J!"'P
P!"d PUE ~ P"'" 1l1<XI 04'" ''';'''W.I\ I""" S~JJ)U s.n " ",\J :»qo ' IIO!li'!];lJ
limbllUjI
, . '", WfW IIJ ')
.. .. 9S
'
 ,87
when he was !we"ly_$i_~. He also IIrOIC :J 'I~", 1111, au thorsh ip uf
which is 'I uCl tion~od . Later, after l>egilllling a p<.>cm On Roman hi>!nry.
he found th e subject troublesome a",1 movcU On:r 10 the Bw(o/ir,s.
principally in ordtr 10 PI''';SC :\sinius Pollio. AJfcllus Varus and
CoTlldiu. G all",. hee,"",,' th ey h"d .""cd hion from loss in lhe di.<_
(ribU!ion of the la nds beyond the Po which werc di,-idcd '''Ilong the
\'e{~rans after 1he ,·jew/)' of I' h ilipp; hI' o.-d,-( of the I riuom-;rs . "exl
he wrole lhe Cf"'gi{$ in bono'" of). l a.-ccnas. who had giwn him Iwlp_
I.><:fmc he wa~ .11 all wd l kno" -,,. "gainst lh e ,';okn, ~ondlltt or"
"el("ran, hI' whom he was almost ~ ill("d ill "quarT..1 ''''ising 0", ofa
rurallaw_su;t.
La" . he I"'ga ll th" .. I""it!, " 1"""" of ,.",;,,<1 ""d cum]>l"" plol,
cq u i"a bll ,,8 it w~r~ to bOlh H (\[II~,.i(; epics, co llccTllni "'l ual l, wilh
name! ,,,,d t hil\g~ oolh Cred ~nd L ,t in. am! inlemkd - Ihis i"dro:l
was his main objeel - Io embrace Ih" origins bOl h of Rome and of
.... ul(nstu •.
Wh en he w,,~ wriling Ih" Gto'gics, il is said Ihal ca~h d a y he rom-
posed a IMgC numher of l in~-s in h is head in Ihe morning and diualed
Ihem , "mi tlwn spent the resl "f II", da), "'Q,king O,'cr Ihem and
r~dueing Ih~m '" ,"cry fcw: he well said Ihal h~ 1l''''C hirth to Ihc
pO~lry li ke " I1Iolhel he.".. "nd Ihcn licked il itHO shape,
T he Arntid was firs, composed in prose and arrangcrl inlo its Iwei\"e
Ix;><>ks: Ill" IhcII I'roccnlcd I" PUI il itH" verse bil h )' bil as he I,lca!<:d.
H<H ,ali"g IhingS"1 ,,11 ill ,)lxkr. To p"nTIII ""),l hil1g hold ing "I' Ihe
force of hi. impul,., . he left SQme parts ""finished and I'rvl'ped "I'
SOme with Irivi,1I line, which he used jokingly to relCr 10 as hi.
'sea ffolding', PUI Ihere '0 h"ld Ih,. work up ,ill Ihe wlid (olu"' '''
.... ri,'w.
He compleled Ihe 8"ro{;r. in Ih,..., r,.ar"S, ,h,. Grorg;" in ",,'cn, "nd
the Amtid in dc,'cn , He publi,hcd I he Hucolin wit h such acd~im thaI
Ihe)' werc o lkn r~ciled by , ingers 0 " ,he S1"g~. He ,,.ad ,hc GtC'!:;"
aloud , ovcr a pcriod offol(' d~)'S . 10 Aug,I>Ht< . n" his r(( urn aftCf tlw
"ie' vrr a1 ACI illlll, wloen I", "'''' \, a yi,,1o: al A,.-I b ,0 r<OSlme his' h"""I.
\-I,wce,"'" ' .... 'k ,,,,.,,, ,,' ,I", rcadi ,,!{. \lh"" Vir):il loi"""U' "' ''' hin·
dered hy " weak",;;s of 1hc \'oi<"<,. H i, p"J" \,,,~iativn howc"cr ,,"as
pkasing ami ",ol1<krfully ."duni>,c. Sene"" repons Iha , Ihe IX"'I
J ulius ).l onlanus used 10 "")' Ihal he ,,"ould h;,,'c ,,,>len SOI11C Jine.
1r.;,111 \ ·irgil. if fl<" coufd .11.\0 h","c 5101<- " hi, ,'Oiee. e.~pr..:>sio" a"d
dramatic deli",'ry ; line, Ihal .()u" d~xI well whcn Virgil rcad Ihcm
were ellll"~' and d" mh wil hOll ' h; m . He I,,,,·r I"<.".i Icd IQ AugnSlUS.
,,10,," II ... "·,,rk " ';lS ."",pln". l\onk, II. 1\' and ,. , lof II", :Ifn"id]:
Ou",·i:o . who wa, P"""'(1 at ,h .. 'Wi,"lioH. wa' grea'ly 11100',,,i alld is
 Criticism in Antiquiry
said to haw fainted and to have been revived only with difficulty al
the lines about her SOn: 'Thou ,h"lt be "- l arcdlus . . . ' He re<td aluud
to largc.r audiences also. bUI n<>t often. and generally pa~ges about
wh ich hc was in doubt. 50 a. to tCSt ~plc's opinion of them . Hi.
freedman and scribe E ros used to say, itl his old age, that Virgil onae
com pleted two half·lines extempore in the course of a recitation.
H aving gOt as far as
'lo.l i'elm! Aoolid'
he "dded:
't han whom no belter
to lrum]>"t mcn'
and thcn. on a second octasion, inspirct.l wi Ih . imi l;or hc;u , added also:
'and kindle Mars with musir.."'
Both suppkments he ordered Eros to write in Ihe hook immedi.
atdy _
Yirgil 'H~'-er lacked dctractors. T his is nO wonder. for nei lher did
1-/" ",,,< _ Wh" n ,!,.. lJ",~/ie> Came "u ' a ~"rtaj" :>;umj,,,,-ju. ""rote
Alllitm(olirs. twO eclogues of inept I>:' rudy. th.· first beginning:
Wh ),. lityr",. if )'on\',' a ~."d wann duak_
go to 11", Iweeh for <lwlt("r~
and the ""cond:
'Tell m~. llamoe,as: "~uium »<,c",': can it 1><: L "i,,'
·"u. bu' th<")" spea k like 'hat down A"gnn', way
in th e country.'
A"od,er objector, whl''' Virgil read out:
'naked plough and n;,ked sow."
added
'yuu'll calch" !Cvnish cold."
There is also a hook agili",' the Aene id by Carviliu. I'iuor. , .. 11<-<1
.. JmtidQltlmlix. 'S<:ourge of the An",i".
~J. Vipsaniu. s.aid that Virgil was put up by !.hecenas as an in_
' -CnlOr "f a new "'r"~"i" . n"t tl", bombastic kind or tlw Ihin ki",1.
hut mad e up of ordinary word. and SO not not ic~d .. , Ascon iu.
Pedianus in his hook '"gainst Virgil", detractOrs', made a few ohjec_
t io"s l,im>;cU: 0001<11)' .-.,hHi" g (0 faCI (hiJ/o.in ) and ba'ed "n hi, ,a king
'AM_ 6_ '!'4- 5'
 Appendix
so mud, Ii-om Homer. ('k rcpnrlS I>o"'''''cr th~t Vi rgil ddended him_
sclfagainSI Ihis char~~ b)' sa yi"g: 'A"d why dnn', ,hey Iry the .ame
Ihefts? They would soon undC~land Ihal it"! " a,icr w pinf.1I Hertnlts"
club 110"" a Ii",: from Ho,ner' ..

I-"KO N T O

[ n Ihis !c:lI..,r to I>i~ I'upil. Ihe fU l ure e"'IWI"Qr :\[ arclis Aurelius
(Ad .H . C~l$IlTlm .1.:\.2 ) {'ronlO ma kes il d"ar Ih;'1 11(" re!!;trds an
arduhing nKabubr)' as lhe muSI impon alll clemen I in a
gond slyle. 5l'(' Chapler IV 7.

Consl"1:[uClHly. "crr rew of I he old wri tCTS (ommi lied Ihelllseil-". to Ih,'
ef[on, troohk ,,,,t! risk in,""keel in ><:~ king words carefull y. or Ihe
orator;. Ihe onl\' one in all hiSlo r} 10 ha"c do" c SO is :\[ . Poreiu! Caw.
with hi, ",,,,Iant follower Sanu,,: of Ihe p<."'ls. we ha ,-c ''SI",,,ian},
Phu",! . and H'rr •.,;pccially Q [ II" iu>. "hom L. Cadi " S. ;\ ae,·i '''.
Lunel iu, ;",d al.", Aceills, Cae..:;lius alld Lab.;rius all ,,,refully illli _
lalcd . Apart rrom Ih,-sc. one ean lind writers deganl in p.~rl. Ih"t is in
pans of Iheir work: such af" No"iu, and Pomponiu! and "II that
Irib<', in rustit:. humorous and farcical ,,"ords: ,\lta i" " ·Omtn S
language; Sisenna in crOlic nl('~bul;l"Y: ;",d t "cil;,,~ ill t~r m s
appropriate \0 "ariou, aTls and husin~'S,es.
Yuu Illa)' 1'..:rhaI'S have I><:cn asking whcrc J placc ~1. T "IIi",. "Ito
i, n:p,,'ed ,hc h.'ad ,,,,,I fi),,,,,,,i .. of ROlli"" dU<j"cn~c. [ "no or
o pi"iOl) (h;" I". ~o",is(c" dr "poh ill ,I". """, h.'a",if,,1 " ·,,. d • . a,,,1
had a grandeur in adorning what he had lu ,:ly surpas>ing all oth er
o,·awn. BUI I al<,() Ihink !h," he was;, IOllg w"Y rro", the snupulous
scarch for wurds ei,her uUl "f gn:am,,,,,, "f mind. ",. uUI ufind"l"nce .
Of oul of co nfidence thai he would find in his hand withoul any
search" ha, ",her; cuu ld <;can,,,,y secure for all Ih,,;r lal ..., u l"S. Ih \"ing
rrad ;,11 hi, "ri(i,,~ 'Try caref"lly. [ think I ha"e a-surl-d lllyselfth,,!
11<' had a "'0,1 copiou~ and """"d,,nl coni 1'01 "fmust ki"ds of word.-
1i"'raL "w,al'h"ri ~al. si", p"'. '·""'pound. ' pk" did (IWn" lil l a
brilliant hUllrr ..I' all hi, work I and , .... y on .... r[,-g""t """""" . A,
")" Criticism in tlnliq1lily
l h~ ~ame lim .. , you will \'ery rarely find in Hny of his speeches un·
c ~ pec.led o r " nlooked for words. which are only dis.:on,rcd as a result
of siudy, ellon, walchfulness and much learning in old poems, By
unexpected and unlooked for , I mea n II word which surprises Ih ...
CXpccldlions and idtas of the hcarer or reader, ye t, if lOU take ;, away
and ask the ....·ader lU thin k of a word himself, he will be unable to find
une, or alieaSt one sowell suited to (he meaning. [ thncfor<:comme rld
you "er~' much for dcvoti llg {are and effort w d igging out words, and
ma king them su ilabk \0 the mcaning. However. <IS 1 !.aid to begin
with. there is a gre~ t danger in this- a danger of placing the word
u"suimbly Or " 'i,h" warn of dearness or appropriateness, as Ihe h alf_
learned do. II is much bellcr 10 u'" l'OmmOn and ordina ry ","0«11
Ihan recondile and obscure o" es, if Ihe mcaning i~ nOI adequately
reprt'scmcd.

' H E RAC LIT US'

I givc here (he greater pan ofthe op;;:ning chapte rs of the book
of ' Home.ric Problems' whose author is known as Heracli tus.
Date uncertain: commo n opin ion says fiN t century ....1>. Text
and F rcnch translation: F. Buffiere ( 1')62). See abovcC hapler
VI 9. p. !).').

Grca I Hnd gri",'ous is Ihe case broughl from heav"n againSI Homer for
hi, irrcverence I,-,ward. the divine. If everyth ing he ",rote is not an
;tI!c"ory. "very thing is a" impiety. Sacrilel'( ious 1al"" full of hla ...
phemous folly TUn riOI throughoul hOlh epics. If",,, are to helie'-e Ihal
il is all said accordi ng 10 poetical Iradition. wilh 110 phil()5()l}hkal
hasis and no cOllccalcd allegory , Homu is a Salmon"". o r a T" ,,{;tlu~
'",ilh IOnguc unchastencd, ,,"or." disease of alr. t
It therefore suq)risc~ nw vcry much thaI a religious w"y of life.
d<:\"olcd 10 tempics and ,hr;,,<;5 ",,<I" " " u;lI feM;,,;,], of Ihe gods.
'Etlripidco O,m" 10 .
 , 9'
, ho"ld h:.'"<: "" "lr« (ionat ~l ) ,·,nl,,';,,-,-<I II,,· jml'kl) of H Q<ner .• i ll~inl(
hi! "kkt"d word. rrom me!1lu~ . From th~ carliN ~la):c of lile. ou r
i"fan' rhi ldn'" in II,,·;. liN "''''''~IIf' "r karni"ll: n... ,,,c U.-rl "n hi""
w.. art: "ral' ll<"(l in hi$ p'>('m~. un" on;):11I "I", ..ay. a. t..~bic<. alKl
nouri, h OIJ r mind '''m their ""II.. ,\ s the fl u id ,L:I'(l\'-S a nd ('{)In"" 10 Illdll-
n.
hood ~I omfr i. '" hi» "Io·. ,m,',. . har,." hi, nmlll Te ) ~'''''. ,IUd d,,' mnn
;s new'TwenT) of him n '.,n in old :o.~e. \\" h~11 '.c i.:a'rl,im. we f.·d 'h<:
th im again . Thr cnd " f li o" ",r I) tlw ,,1(1 of IiIi· for u'.
AII,his. in "" '''''', '1l;,k"1i i, ,.I), ''',1> Ihal Ih","" i. 110 ,l~ jn of wicked
lal~.. in the CI)'O. 'I'll/" /lib', :"lIt I:llr. tiM' U1fJ~<g. ,,;Ih 0"" COIl""ru
lIllt. a '"(licf "h,d, ~ I'"re :lIId fre,· 01.",) ,.)lI nl...-." in pnxlaiming
,hri' I,i..,):
I "OlIld nOI fig hl l hf ,!I:"d~uf l,c.I \"(·n. nOt I :
Io:ruII<:..ls ar.- ",. "flo hu m to ,;t ....·;Ih Zem ."
Ho ..... splrnd idl ) i. Zro. in hea l .:1' .. "'n;I;~~ 1 ;" I h... I"-",, n. III", ;,,~ the
... orfrl ....·it h hi. i"'I ......(e' .. ihl.· nod ~ .-\,," ,...... hOI> "htn 1'(",.;,1..:>[\
,,\(),.~. then all of" ,,,dd,·,, ·J;; reat ",,,,una i,, , and lv,,:st. t,.~","lc·.J
On~ migh' ia} Ihe ., ."n,· "I" 11 ("<;1 :
She "'''' ("d nn h .. r Ih ..olle . .1ud "'3d,' )( r .."t Oh ,,,pus dl"~"'''
[Oth a n'"npk< full"""1
Shou 1<1 th ere I.... 1>C l"SOns " h... do no\ "·,·O): ni,,· l"l onw", .11 kl:ur~ aud
lIa,·" nu, p,,"e"''' cd inw ,10,· ,..... '"'''·1 "I" h i, wi"iu",. bu t ha I·e made
ra sh j ta11o:!1l,·l11S of HUlh "i,h"ul , ..., i"g tb,·,,,. ,111(1 M·i,.... 011 " Itat
apt", ,,r to I", I"ylh,,,al fini, ,,,, I,..,,,,,,,,, Ihq du uut u"d ... ~t,, "d the
philosophical illl e" li"" w,"lI. 1"1 tI"·,,,
W' d ... i,. ".I). \,hil .. ''''- "hu
have ,,..,.,, "'.""· I,un· "ilhiull,,' hnl) I'n-..:i",·". ,"' '''''e tlw 'IOku",
"·,,,h "r "". !"".'''' in ,I,,· !'....,..... " " ,,",,.•..
.-'twa} 100 with ,h,·lbller,·r 1'1.1111. f,Ii,,· iten''''r uf J I""wr, " ho ".. nl
hi", awa)· f,,,,,, hi. pri'-a'" K,·,,,,bJi... 'Ill hOloo",·",J cx ik . g." la",I ....!
"il h " -001 and "'ith hi. hc .• d ,,),3 k l~1 in CXllemiH' l){"rruIllC ! do we "Of"
la~c though t Ii.. I'. pinm.s. "II() <"tllti, ~ " "'I hi, Ulodil(nificd 1,1"::b"'·c in
to; , <". n C ..... lcn. "I~"'"i" ,," ,,~ . 1,,. "h•• I.· ,.r l ~""r) a<" f.., .•
1 ,,.... ,, <or
rable. I r{'("1 mdil.ro 10 . if(h ,I<"<"pl' allIl "'" .
Ah me! Hu ..... noorl;ol n"·,, .I" 1,1.,,,,,' ,I ~ I(O,l<!s
The most di5tr.,..;ing (..:Il nn: .;1 il _III i. Ihal hoth Ih.""" Ihin l eno"-e , hc
origin or ,hcir "' .... n ,Ioct.i" ... t(, 1·I<»n,·. _and al'e Ihos um;r.tlcrull) im·
I'iou. 1O.....;:, ru' ,he ,-cn 1)t"11i<I'" rrt>tn "hom 110,·) hal.· h"d the gre,"."'I'
bc,,,,fi , 10 th...i. o"n I."",inl( ~ ..

'OiJ"'J '· 3'_

 Crili(islII i" .'I1I/;'/lIil)'
\ \"e mu,l now ma ke a few brief I~(bllkal remar ks al,><""l "lkg<.>I)'_
T h.. anual ",''''c. which i. "cry "I>!I, d ,us<:n, 'c,'cal, ",h 'il II,.. 'hing
i, _ 'Allcgory' i, Ihe name gi" en '" Ill<" lrope wh ich "'y~ 0"" 'hing
hUI sig nifies Slm""hi ng cI;c (alia . .. agQlfuon ) .
T ll11~ ,\,-,·hilod",s. <"aug h( in (he Thracian \rouhles, compill'ts war
wa storm al sea;
CI;,,'Cll', I()(\k, Ihe $Ca is stining, :mtJ Ihe disturh w ;,,',,"
Ihc dcep,
and a doud stand, o,'cr C ,'rae , lowering high, Ihe sign of
Slonn;
une~pcc lcd lerrOr hilS uS . •
Again . we lInen nnd (he :\ I ),Ii l"ncan l)'riciSl [Ak''''us J all.·gorising _
FOl' ,·~"mplc. I", wmpa"" Ih" cI;"ul'hanH'> of Iyranny in a similar
",allnn to a "onny "'-';1
,
It would I", l<'(lion, (0 ",,'iew all the allegori~s in poc's and prose·
wrilers. I I must .<,,!lice 10 $h"w Ihc g("ncral nal life "f tll<"_phenomena
hl':' rew e~amples . ~Ol C\,(11 Homer', allegori.·, arc .. j\-l' :' I" in douhl
or a ,uhjecl or inq uiry: he gi,'<:S Wi a pcrfCt,tll' d ear e~ a mpk or Ihis
I ro1'~ or SI)' Jc in (hc passage ill \-I'll ieh O dy>scu. speak, of Ihe c\'il, or
Wa' "nd hau l,, :
Ill<" 1",,,,,,, fa)'$ milch ,Ira\\" o n I he ground ,
h,J{ p,x>r indeed is (he Il;I f\'CSI, ",hell ZCIIS turnS Ih~ scale.8
T h" mml, denOle farming, hut Ihe thin g intend"d is haltlc: only h"
ha, illlcnsiflcd e) Ihe mc"ning by Ihc eonlr",,1 bctwee n I\\"o opposing
Ihi nj(" And .'0, "inc~ tI", lrope or anegory is so common in "II ol he r
",iling, "nd i, known 10 Homcr also, \\"hy should " 'c nol find Ihe
remedy ror whal appear 10 he had ""lernelll, in Horner aboul (hc
gods ill ",!cfcllec of Ihis kind?

H O R AC E
Od,s -t.Z is ;m impo f\;lln SliHelllC II\ nf H o racc's nWIl ideals. Sec
C hapter I V 3 .

• Arfhi locl"" fro 105 II"'~ I .

' T he I",,"'g" ,(11",,,,1 '''<, j< a (""'0"' 011": Alca,·u< fro ,-', I.ot..-].I ','g<. cr.
Home.' OJ" '-'4. Q uill.ilIl.6_H ·
'/lill1l jq-"~ >- 4 ,
H e " 100 would rival ]' j"daf, 1"1,,,_ rchc. "" winl(S " '~~~d by Da c'dalu<
, ki ll. a nd "ill g; ,'e hi ;; nam~ 10" !(l ass~ "''',
As ~ ,i,'cr ,..,11' dow" 1m", \ he 111ulIlI1" in. "hen '" ill> han, !;,,-oj len
i\ aL./we i" kno"" banks. ro l'illd. lr st:~d,c' .",oJ ru,h~.,. In~::I>",dcss
"ilh deep \'o;"c, de.,el~' inl( Apoll,,', bay. whclhn he rolls down """"
words ill 1;.,,10.1 d i{hy' _tin lIS ""d tl1 ",'~i in "'~'''\lrc." II"" k'l<)" no ]a w,
(\1' ~i nh'S of g(\(];; a"d or kings. Ill<' children of god " b) "hili<: haml,
fell (0 ~ j ll>! lIc,uh ,h" Cc'l(aors and d,c dn,;I(] Chimaera's HanH',
or 'peak, of 1h""" "scor(~d hO"'~ I", ,I,,· victory-pal", of Eli,. !:''''' I
as !I,xl., I.... ~"r 01" ho""" ,,,,d g;"':> ,h,·", " gifl w(Jrth "'nrc Ihan a
hundred "" """.
or again la m("l IlS" young ""tTl '''''lched from his ""~'f'ing hrid,',
""d ra;'~, 10 the .IM. "a]uu,. .",,1 ",ind and eh;,rancr ,,1' I;old.
g n,dl;i " l; ,h e", \0 hind lkad"
WI" ,,,cvcr. A,,,,,,, i"s, (h<: ""'" "f Hi 1'("<' winl(S his,,,, Y1(1 lhe high
ra"ge, "f I he do"d<, " ,I mil\( lI'i"d '''' i,~~ hi", : "hik I . iII I h~ ",,,n,,a
"nd fa.,hi"" 01', 11" .\\a,i"" 1)(;" ,ha, g,u hrr, S,,"~"l ,hy"'" \\,;,11 ",,,,II
loil ''0''''(\ d,,' I\"ood "nd I):",~s of " aler"• T ivoli. I. lin)' cn'alln'c •
mould n,y hbori"u;; -.ou~"i ,

;\ IAC R Q III US

T h('S(' naran s fro m .\ 1:l<:rol>i",· S'lil/rlllliia led. J . Will i• . 19(3)

haw Ix'en abr id ged ,o",cwhat. Th e) ~re inlellded (n illLlS(ra(C
IaJ the study uf \'il'gil's rhc(uriGll lechnique. (b) the crit eria by
",hi .. h hi , imilalio of HOlllt:1" w~, Judge(], (rJ (he \ jew t~ k"l' of his
." r ic. S"c "f)<)\"" . C],a 1''''1' \' ] r '). \' 1r I ., . .\ I ~erohi "'. "Ito " '1'01<"
in II ... ~'arl)' linh CO' ,,1 "n'. ,,'I,d " ~rlil"l' sou rce,;. nn d t hu\ j.( il ,ts u.\
,;orne ide". hOWI'1 'cr (In ,r"';fd , lI[ I he 1'0"1',"' uf \' irgil ian Hi t ici,lll ,

(a J Saillmalill I.J

Le1 us n"l\" 'cc b, I\"h," Wn" "I' '1J<:t"rh "m"li"" is ex ]> ..",,,,,!. And fi,~,
Ie, us :I,k "ha , ~d "i ce ,h":ln of rh<:lOric hal '0 gi,'" ahou, d,;, .
'94 Crili<ism ;" Antiquity
Emotional (pll/hi/ilra) spc('ch mu,t be di""ctru either at indignation or
31 pity. which are called in G red d,;"o!is and ~iI,'os. T he lormer is
necessary for the accuser, (he lancf fQr the defendant T he former
require. ~n abrupt beginning, for it d""", not su it angr)" peop le ",
,(art softly. And soJuno' in Virgi l .
o ha ted mce. and Phrygian destin),
to ou rs op~ed , ..
Nor is it only the \)(og; nn;,,! ,ha t must bcofthis kind ; if possible. the
whole !pc<:<;h IlIuSl appear emot i,," al, dwet $<OIItcnct:S "nd f""<luen l
<;hangC$ of figur" making it appear a. it werc storm.tossed <,>n the
waves of a nger. So the Olle Virgilian speech may serve as an example.
The initial ,'xdammio" (rAl'himbiJ) '0 h",ed race ... . is foil",,"..! bl'
, hon qucMio",
and (oL<ld they rail upon Sigeum'$ plain ?
('~,plurcd , b" captured? Did huming T roy cremat e them?

/\ nd then a hyperbole :
T hro ugh battle_lines ""d lire they I"und a way.
T h" n iroll)" ,
M y power. 1 r" "c y. h as grown tired, o r else
l" ve had my fill or hal" a nd nOw I feSL
T hen ~he complains of Ihe fmili!)" of her dfortS:
T hrough ""as I dared pursue, and fa~c
Ihe rUl-l"iliv("S lhe ocean ovcr ...
A s<:<:ond hYp"rholc :
Spellt on the T rojam >1rc ngth of sea alld sk)·.
And ,·... ious compl"ints:
What good was Sr rtis, Scy113 , v aS! Charybdis. to m~ ?

To incrc"se d,e emotion she liSt'S iOn Mg ",ncn t n m;~ Q":

!I·l ars had the power 10 ru in the dread race of !he Lapithac .
!lbl'S was a Ics.'c.r p<:rson, a nd so she COnlinues:
BU I I . Jove"$ mig hl)' wife ...

, "l"h,- pas.as ... 610"<1 (",mc of ' !.crohi,, ' ~," "' pl<:. Mc omi"",1) orr all from
,1,c 'P"'"'h in ..l,,,,;1i 7· '93 Jf.
 A""i'IIdi., 'OS
Ha"ing expbined ,he C"U'''''. ho'" "iDIe",ly ,10,· ,11('n pr()<',,..~ I >'

And "~, r ,urncd '''yseirw ~"ny, I, i llg !

She docs not:w ), ' 1 ,'annol ruin :\,'n~ '\S' hu"

I _",n I",.\\<:n by A,>ncas_
!'':e~1
she S' f~ "", l,t'IIs I",r rd'Okc 10 I10 h"fln_ "nd shnll'S I"'rself m n I"n,
tl) hinder. thoug h he d',p;lirs of lleing ;,1,1<' 10 accomplish Ill" aim ,
T his is Iypical ofatlgr~ people.
If I cannDI lJ<'nd h"" \'cn. Ihen I will stir Ih" po wer "f HeiL
I I i\ " 0 ' n, ille '0 bar h im fro lll his kingdom :
So hI' i, : tin'" i, out. <.Idar 'he ilSt",.
,,"'erminal .. ,he na, ion> ofhoth king •.
,h.u's poss ihl,. ,
Alld fll\;,lIy. '" ''''gry I>C.-so,,, of,,' " do. , 1)(' curse, her o ppon ent ;
You. du\\'r)', maid. , hall I", R Ululi"n lllVOtI and T roja ,,_
A"d ,lor fo lk,,,-, ,hi, wj,h '''' "I'I',ol'l'i",. "'-g,"n,'", f'olll """lOgy
drawn f,olll I"'cl'ious C" cnb:
Not o nl\' Hecuha.
I'r"g"3", w;,h ",,'el,c,. bore" """,Id;"g fla lll e.
Ynu see hm,· "I'ten he changes thc >11'1" and "ari", it wilh freq uen t
figu res. h" G"'''' :."g"r. lh '" 'brief lIl"d """ _. " "",,, emlli" ue :. ,i n"lc
t, ,ne of 'I",·,..-h )""g,

(b) In S(ll"'~(lh(l 5.' I. :'Il acmhillS li~ ~ s ;. latg'· H"mher of

. para ll el s' bc, wcen H onl<'r" nd \' il'J.( i L I Scl"C1 I he following (sce
also Gcllius 9.9 and 1'i. 10 ill AI.C 5-13 11'. ) .

(iJ ..1m. t.-I:I() 1.. 11. 2.8; f.

Vi rgil d" ",rilx, Ih~ Ixc' .IS \\ol'kers, Ho""" a~ ",,,ukr,,,,, the
nile nl'''c'''~' their ,ca"erillg: :II,d ,h,· ",<rio u' .Ii,'ce,io", of ,hci,-
fligh', ,he ollwr the tllltks ofdorir lIallll-,,1 , kill.

(ii) :I~". "gil fl'.. Od, '2 :mn If:

UI),,,,,,,, run;",l, hi , {'O'''p,,,,iolls of Oll{' tI,(}"IJ I,' onl~' ; ,\,',1<''',. ill
",.der 10 make them hope for rei id from pl'~'Srnt trouble cncu llrages
lhc m hr .aJ~ of , he upshnt oflWO c",."IS. HOHler's
' 1 a," '''''t )'0" " 'ill rc",~", l"'r ,hi,'
 Cri{;('sm in Allliquil)'
i,oUscu re; Virgil's
''''c shall enjoy rc"'eml><;ring even Ihis hereafter'
is dearer. ~·I oreo\'er. wh:ll you r p<)CI mldcd i, a Sl ronge]' t:c}", fol'l .
He encouraged his men nOt only by th e example of tiCajX', but by
hope OrrUlU rC rdi~ity. promising Ihem, as a rt:S uh ofth is dTort, nOI
only a peaceful home hUI a kingdom .

(iii ) Am. 3.6.>6. /I. 13.3119 and 16.4Ih.

Your 1""'1 ha, ('xpr"",cd the difficulty of c" "ing dO"'n " hug ..
tree: Homer, tree is cu t do,,"n withnut any lrouble.

(i\') Am. 4.36;.. II . 16.3~ (d. Cdl. 1~.1.~0)

Virgil did ""I <o" fi ne him.elf. as his model did, 10 Ihe wpie of
birth , but alsn aw,c ked his subject's upbri ngi ng as harsh a nd
I><;>lial, lor he added On his Own :
And H yn;a nian tigen ga'"t I'on suck,
I><,c""",-" 'he "",,,,.e or 1 he nu n;c "",I ' he <j""I;, r " r ,I,~ m;l k 1'1 "),, "-
large part in fixing character.

("J Atn. 9675, II. '2·' 3 '

The Greek sold iers Polyp""t", and Leonteus sta nd I><;fore the
gal~'" and await withou' mO"i " S 'he appm;,,: h of ,heir cunoy
Asius. li ke trees rooted there. Th at i. as rar a. the Gree k description
gQe!; . Virgil's deS(;ription makes Bit ias and j'andaru5 opcn lite gale
of their Own ,,(corti. offering Ihe enemy wha I he want~d, the ella nee
10 sdz<: lite cam I). and ,ltuI p Ulling Ihem>ek"" in the enemy's powcr.
He c.an, th~ two heroe. ·wwc",·. hut al>O d=ri~ them ,11 g li ttering
wilh Ihe hrinian cc or thrir hritnC!s. He dOC!; "o1- li ke Homcr. pass
'Ini~ k ly O\'~ r the compariso" with trct·~.I)Ut dt"snih<:s lh" Ir<:es morf
ri~lt l r and hc~U1ifully.

(f) Slyles (Saturnalia .1, '-711'.)

'There arr, four type, of style,' said r. usehius, 't he w pious. in whi ch
Ci cero is the k"der . Ihe cone i,." " 'here San"'t i, king, the dry. which
is ascrihcd to Fron\(). a nd Ihe rich and 1I0rid, exem plified hI' the
luxurialKcof PJiny a nd now of ou r friend SY"''''"cltu,. who is as good
as any of Ihe ancien ts . In Virgil howe,",," you will lind all th~"SC
slyles . ..
 Appnulil '97
[Example" A", . 3·] ] (wllei,,,); "·3"4 7, 24' ~'. 36 ' - 3 (w pious) ;
9.4u-9 (UI)'); II '768- RI (Horid ) ; GMgic. 1.8..- 93 ( mi~wr~ of ,,11
fVUf ). Virgil ab" ""mains in",mct ' of Ihe g""'C and malVI"<: \1)"1e
(Am. 1 ~.LI9) amI oflh~ ardem and vigorous sIrle (.~m. 10.:'99)].
·It "",ms 10 me Ihal \ ·irgil ... followed no masler bUI n"Wre her_
self. ill Ihus wca"i"g Ihis h, ...."v"y of disslln''''Is. \0 Ill«: " musical
me,,, phor , 1:0" if rou look dr"d y at Ihe " 'odd i"df. yvu ,,-ill f'nd much
similarit y OCI ween 1hal work nfG(>d and I his work of , he poct. J U51 " ,
), I;,ro', doqUC"" ~ i, ,ukquale to all char"cu,!'S nOW brier. 'lOw
copious. nO\\' dry. nOW tlorid. SOIllCI ime! gcmk somelime:<; in Hood
so th e eJnh he";"lfis in pla c", rich" ilh crop, and meadv"". in places
"'''gh wilh \\'<.><)11, '"1<1 fI><"ko. d,')" ill d ~St'"rt-'. ,,-d l-\\'al<"rl~1 ,,-ilh
sprill~. 11,- cxptN:d to Ihe v;m .' Ca . Florgi,'" me do nm Ihink me
CXlrm'''gant in comparing \'irgi l "ilh Kalu,,·. It St:ems 10 me an in_
"dequalc acen"nt of hi, grea Ine" to ,ay Ihal he had simply com hined
in "He Ihe slrk of Ihe Tell Or'Ho!~ who fl ouri,ht-d :11 A,hcll> '"
AlIiG':
E.'ang,·III' I''',ked ""' u,(:(1 :" lhi<. -Yo" dn wen: he 'J id. '1" (tllll_
par,· ,he I"}(;' fro", Ihe :\ 1""Ill:'" (ollll\l')",idc wilh Ihe cre," Or god . I
don'l suppose he n TI" rc,.d a word of Ihe Grt:ck orators ),011 ha\"~
111 ell! iOIl"d _.

,\ IA \{ CE L LI t\' U S

S{I'/i,lic lIilll~ lIlId mode" of ThuC)'didu

T hc L i fe uf T h ucydides Ii-om", hi c h I II is C~ 1rn CI is Hl kell is " II ri.

bUled to .\ Iarccllinus, probably In be identificd wilh a fiflh·
C{"lllllry ,dH)ha" " II H ...-nl<)sc n" •. T ht> all' htlr d,·I<>nd. T h '.II'Y_
(Iides again" lhe slriclllrl"S "I' D ionysill-l _ I gi,'c §§'l:.- .. 'r Icxt
in OCT T hllcydi(ks. 1"01. i, Sec above. C haptn IX 6 .

In his arrang~m~ nl loiAOI/Omill) Th,,"ydid<:s was .11' i,nil;II'" (~iltiri!, )

of Homer, and in hi, nalural grandeur and dC"alion of SI)·I{". of
l'i udar . l-l is oh,""1'il Y i, <idihc rale ; he <iid nOI wi sh 10 hc "c«("S<ihk 10
all or to cheal"'" him<-elf l" y beill),: "a,il y IIlIdC,-,lood by ,til and
 Criticism in Anliqui!l
su nd ry: h~ wished rather to Ix judged and adm ired by thc wi>("St. f or
hc who is praised by the best and a.:hic\"es wdl_judgell re now n wins
honour recorded for all timc. honour whkh is in no danger ofbcing
"'ipc<! 00' by b'~r j"dgmcnl. H" al"" i",itated,;" Anl)"llu> says. Ihe
pari~e!; and vcr!xll antitheses of Gorgias of iLontini, wbich were
well thoughl of in Cree.:c at that time; and al so the preci$ion of
vocabulary of Prodicus of Ceos. But. as I said , he particularly imi-
lated Horn er in his .:ho;';" of words, exactness of word_arrangem"nt,
and Ihe slrenglh, heauly a nd rapidily of his expression. Earlier prose_
wrilers and historians put no life inID Iheir wriling> but ns..-d bare
"ar,.lIi.." Ihl"<)ughou,_ not a»ign ing speeches to their characters nor
composing oTlLliom; HerodolU! did indeed allcmpI this. bOI with no
great elTeCI. f,>r he ga."c, ~hort speeches only, more as dramalisations
(prosa".,,,.,iidi ) than a.'l oralions, It was Thucydidcs who inve nted
public Ord tion. and mmposed Ihem in mmrlete fon" . with IIcadi ngs
and a divioion (d;"im;l), which L~ Ihe mar k of tl.e enrnp lcte speech ,
O f thc tloru \~pes of slyle (.karaklb,s /JhmSlil:vi)- lhc etc\"arm
(hw/Js{/oJ ) the slender (irchnQs ) and the middle- he pursued only Ihe
ele,·ated. as being sui table to hi. own nature and appropriate t<> Ihe
&calc ,,1',1,.. great w~r. \\,hac .Iced, ~re grcat, thc words til", rebtc to
,hem .hould he greal also.
To remind yOIl of the other style:.. let me say that Herodotus IIsed
the middle style-toc ith er dc,'aled nor sie"da - ,,"d :\cII"phun the
Slender.
It is becaus<: of his elevation that Thu()"Iiid~s oftell used poelical
npr.:s.,ions ~I nd SOIllC rnclal,lrors. I",le..:d SOmc Ira,·c gone 00 1<" as to
dedare that thc, manner of hi, writing thr"ughollt the work is poetical.
nOt rheloricaL That it is nOI poetry is ob\"ions from Ihe fael Ihal it is
l10t ill meu c. Ifdll.\·one then says th~l nut all prus.r:: is rhc\ol'i<"al-for
instan.:e I'lalO', works and m~llical hooks-we reply that history
is divided by head ing> and ;, thm brought inl<> the category of
rhel<>ric. History in gcncntl belongs 10 rhc ddibcnllivc bra ndl -
though SO"'C .ay it is p,,"cgrric, OCC;IU .... it pmise. hcro<::! of W;,, _ b" t
T huc)'didcs Willes into ,,11 thrce dasses: dcliberative oratory hecause
of his sfl<'ech.-s (with the cx~eptioll of the spc<:<.:hd of Ihe I'law earu
a",. Th eban, i" Il.. ,k !II ); panegyric be,,;',,'e of the f"nna l ,petth:
foren,ic bc(au,e of tire [' lalaea ll and' ll.cball sfl<'ct: hcs wh idl "-C cx-
d "d~-d alxwe. (I n this C;ISC, 1he La ~edacmonians who are present are
the judges. the PJat aean is j ullged in rel ation 10 Ihe (lueslion put to
him , and defends himsdfat length " nlh e questions :.s"ell, whiie the
'1"heba n opposes him, in(iting the Lac«iaemonian to anger: the ar_
rang,:m,,"'. method and figure ( ld~;J , mrlhr;dQs. JChim~ ) are all sign, of
the forcnsic form .)
 '99
I'ROCLU S

T"~ II"" kinds uj 1'*1')'

011 Ille Rfpublir T, I 77 Kroll: lrans. A. J.

Fcs{ugiere, I'rodU_f;
CQm"''''''';rr sur /" Rep"hli'l"~ ( J970), I.! 97. Sc.., "hove, eha pier
IV n. nI S_

Very well . Let os now lurn to (}u; discui,;on of poetry. and "omin"r
whal kind, "[poetrr there arc according to ['law, whal poetry he was
considering when he expounded the criticisms ofi! in the Tenth Book
of dw J(,puMir and, finally. how. e'"ell hcrc, Horner is shown 10 be
exempt rrom (h~ cri ticisms which apply to mOSt poets. T o make this
d~..r "Iso. ict uS I~gin our lesson wilh the r"lIowing ohsel"\'al;o".
W e aHirm {hal (hne arr. (0 ~p<:"k in general term" {hree livc. in
the .... uJ.
(i) The best and most J><'rf~"C{ is lhat in " 'hich Ihe soul is linked
Wilh the g'xi. and Ii"..., (he life mosl doselr akin to them and united
wi Ih Ihem in e>lreme sim ilar;1 y, hdon.'!:i ng nOI W her:;.elflJUI 10 Ihem,
rising al){),'~_ her own inldlcct, and awaking in h~r<;,M lh~ ine/hhk
s)'mool (,ullihima ) of lh~ uni talr e ~ i<lcn"~ of the gods,joining like with
like, 1..-,. lighl 10 Ih~ liglu )'onder. Ihe "Hm ""ilar), den,cnl ofl,cr OWn
",hll,"'ce .. "d life In Ihc QII C lhat su,"p" s..<.cs " II suh,'1"''''c ,IUd life.
(ii) The life second W Ihis in honour and rower. the midmO\!t life.
SCI ill Ihe ,,,idsl of Ihe loOul, is that in which (he soul turns 10 herself.
desccnding: from thc di,.inely impired life, but makes intellcrl and
knowledge Ihe principles of her aCli,.;I )': she unroll, multitudes of
arguments, contemplates all kind, of chang ... of t he forms, hrings to_
)!:ether Ihat which thinks and Ihal which is lhought, and ma kes a n
imag., uf Ihe illidligihic sui.st ance by comprchend in;:: ,I,.. na,ore of
]' lIclligihlc, ill (Jlle .illgle unily_
T he third lite is ,hal which moves amollg ,he lower rowers and is
;tCli,'c wilh Ihem, cmpln)"ing .. Iso visiom (phnnlnsiDi) and sensalions,
and entirdy filling its<:lf lI"ilh inti-rior realities.
Th~~" h"ing 11..- Ih,,·, I)'pes of hfe ,,-,,'n in sou ls, lei u~ cOH,ider tile
di" ision of po<:try On a !imilar principle. PO<;lry also dc":cnd$ from
ahove wilh the manifold live'< of Ihe soul and is diversified into firsl,
middle and lasl kinds of aCli"ity. For in p<>cl ry also Ihere is One Iype
which is lh~ highest and is full of divine goods. ""uing the ""ul amid
lh,' l".i"oil'l", lh"l "rc th" r" " I"1 of ,,~illin)( thi"gs. ""d bri,,~in!(
,., Cril;r;J'" if! : Inliquil)'

ID!(,·,h,·,. Iha l whirh fills "",t,bal " hid, is lill"rl jn an i"dr"ble lInil),.
Lwi1l)( (Jul ,h,' romwr for ,11,,"';"01,;011 illun,"cri:,II\' and ""nl~C1 l1 all)'.
"ml :n ,I". "'m~ linl<" , ,,,,,mon;n!! illt, bll'" In ,hare it. lighl _

'" ch,m"d, mjn~I,· ufu"'1''''''''hablc ti",'

Ih,' "",k p,·,{u,mjll)(

as Ihe Orad" ~ays'

"r his '"'UJIICM, ill a word. bcutr It",,, ,"m il l' ~nd is limih,.-j <>nly hI'
j,
Ihe nwaSII ' " of God : and jllSt as olher kind s ofm,'dncss hrinl< Illen 10
mher !l'''1s, So thL' 011'" lills the in,pired wil l " 'i,h tin' ,ue:>!lIr,,; and
,I,,·ro·fo re i, JdO'H, ils IJst <lrlj,-ilies wilh mtlre and rhld"", And .".
j"" as We say ,hal f.>l1lplu:lir madnC$S ("xi , ls in relation 10 IHuh and
I he ",;,,11,..>5 on",·" i" ,d,u;"" 10 lit.. my, so we Sil)' I hal poelic 1ll,,,lnC'iS
j, defined by rderence 10 ,Ii, i'l<: "'e" sure vr l'I"<)I'.,,.,i..,,, _
T he poetry which i, infcri"rl" Ihe firsl in'l,i«~1 kind , "",I iSSCCH ,0
have a m;ddle pk",c i" Ihe ;;ullL has it' tot'ins: hI' reference 10 Ihe an"al
;" 'enig'"'' "",I seien,if...: di'pusi, ;n" of Ihe solll , I I knows It", >"I";I:,n«'
of real Ihing;. contemplales nohle and s:, wod d,,,-,,I. and words, and
I>r inb'S ,..-cryl hi"g (Q mel ric:,1 alld rh l'dn"kal espressio" . 1\1:"'y of ,h,'
" 'urk, uf g-, ."I poc" "'''f 1-", sc,-n 10 I", of d,;, kind. Wi,,· men "dm;re
,hem _Th",' art: rllll of~dmonilion and s:ovd ad ,';cc:. ~lId lad c:" w;lh
i,,,dl,gc III mOllc-n" i,",: Ihe)' ,-"ahl,- 'hose ",ho 1""-,, ~ b'Uod "alural
end , ,mllem ,0 sh" r~ wis.lo", "lid o,her ,-in lle. ami Ihey ,,11''''d ,IlC,. nS
"I' rec,,11 ing I' > In; nd • he periods,.f l he soul ""d Ihc clernal princi plc~
""d ,-"ri..",s I,,-m'ers comaincd in Ihc'w_
T hird ,-On,.', ,hc IJOt:I!)' ",h;(h is '" is~,,1 "jlh np;n ions a ltd inmgi".
ing> , rum pn>ed hy mca"s of im il",ion. "nd "'holly 'mime,ic', in facI
a5 wtll as in «"nnll)n p~rlancc. Somelimes Ihis m:, kt'l llse mercl)' of
copying (,;ka,iaj, "-'me,im~"S i, 1"1" f" ....,·"rd an "pparent hUl''''1 rcal
rescmhla " cc, rai,ing sm~!l e\','nh '0 grand Po'''l)(Jr(ion, _ all".?i,,!! iI,
hcarer:<; hy ,,-ort!, and expressions of Ih;, kind, cha ngi ng Ihe dispo:si.
lion of the soul h)' cha"gcs of harm",,), and di"cn;;I), of rh)'lhm, " nd
displ"yi ng Ihc n,\luft oflhings 10 Ihc l1Iass of"'''nk ind nOI as Ihq' art
hUl as d,c~' " "'Y al'pc"," _ It is" . hadow - draw;,,!! or rcal il}', "01
csacl knowledge, T he goal il !ieIS ilsclf is Ihe hcguilctnCnI (j"uch~gQg;Q)
oflhe hCdo'Cr •. and il look~ cspoxi"ll y 10 ,hc clt",e", of lhe solll which
is crnolio",'] ami gi,-cll lo jo), and sorrow , As we r .x pl"i",·d , p',r' "r
Ihi. kind of I""' I!)' i, of Ihc nmurc of cop),i ng (rika.-tiANI)- Ihis dims d I

, 0,,,1'1,, lhaIJo j9"'" .d. E. ,I", I'b~", ('9;1 ). fc. 66. Th,n: i. ~n am!'i!;uil)-
i" ,10, li n<, "hid, Ihe " ',,,,1.";0'" Ifie. '0 I"",<r.-c,
 ApfHndi.t ,"'
cornxtness of imita tion - and part, as we said, of th e nature of
fantasy (phanllJJlikon ), providing only an apparcn t imitation,

PR OC L US TH E G R AMMARIAN

St-c ~oon·, Chaptt·r X 6. with nfll es 15 and t6. It is uncert~in

whet her this author is the same as the famous fifth-centu,,·
philosopher, from whom the last extract waS ta ken. T his is not
in itself impossihle, but the mOf'" probabl e (and marc usua l)
view is that we have here an earlier writer, perhaps of the
second century A. D. I n any case, the writer draws on sources of
the H ellenis tic age, and specifically on Didymus. Text in
P hotius Bib/iqlht(a , cod. 239 (cd. R. H en ry, v. (55).

Read: ntractS from the book entitled Short Manual of Literature

(Chmlomalhiia J1rammatiki ) by rrodus. llle work is di vided into
four parts.
I n the first, he states lhal the virtu,," of prose and p""try are the
same, but differ in degree. Style (Plasma) i, eilher full·bodied (/!adroit ),
slender (i,-dnM) or intermediate (mtSQIf) .
T he full·bodied is the richest in ,tartling efleets (rkpliklit§/alon j,
elaboration and poetical bea uty. The slender cutainly pursues meta-
phorical and elaborate arrangement, but is made up of morc loosdy
connttuxl dement., 50 that it is in g"'neral best suitcd to lamentation.
T he intermediate style is, as it, name impl ies, midway bet .... ee n the
other t ....o. T here is no ·florid ' ( anlhbo~) style as such: this goes with,
and is combined with, the t.... o JUSt mentioned. and is appropriate to
topograph ical pa ..ag.,. and d.,..-ription ofm~ado,,·. and gro"",.
Those .... ho fai l in attempting tho<: style. (id.",) fall from the full-
bodied into the st iff and a .... kward , from the . lender into the low, and
from the intermediate into the flabby and I""",.
He al50 giVe!! indication. on the judgment of I>octry, in the course
of which he explains the diflerence ~t .... een character (;lhoJ) and
emotion (jff1thosj.
He divide!! p""tr)' imo narrath'e and mimetic:; the narrative branch
is cxpress..d in hcxamete"" iamhics, degy or lyric; the mimetic in
tragedy, !oatyr-plays and comedy.
,"' Criticism in Antiquity
QU I N TI LIAN

Emotion and imagination (6.2.26--32 )

SI:<: Chapl~r VII 7.

So far as my undustanding goo;. th" m",,' important faclor in pro-

ducing "motional dfn:t!I i. to be moved by emotion o".,..,If. The
im itation of grief, anger or indignation ma y actually prove ridiculous
if we faillo adjust our minds to iI, and not merely our word. a nd facial
expression. Why is it thaI persons who grit .." for a rttent sorrow oflen
apfX:ar to utlcr words of the high""l doq uen~, ... hi l" anger >ometim""
makes c' "en the untaught into oralOrs? il is bttause of the psy-
chological forct and feeling in them. So, whe" we want to produ","
lifelike dfe<;u, we neW Hl racmble in our fttliu!l$ those who really
ex perience them . The specch muSI come from the S(a leOr mind ,,-hith
we want 10 induce in the juryman. Is he going to feci grief, jfhe hears
thaI [, who am spea king for lhis " ery purpose, do nOl feci any myself.'
Is he going to be angr)', if the would_be exciter of his wrath fee!.
nu.hing uf",-h". he uema"d. hi",self? Will he accord .ears.o a dry_
eyed advocate? lmpo..sibl e, Nothing bums but fire, nothing well but
waler. nothing imparts a colour which it does not possess itself.
So , first of all, the feelings which "'e wi.h to prevail with the juryman
must prevail wit h us. We must be emot ionally moved befo.., we try
to produce such emotiom in olhe .... Now ho,,' can we do this? Emn-
tionl are not in our power. I will try 10 ex plain thi, al ....
Th e most dfective producer of emotion will be Ihe person ...·ho has
formed successfull~ what the Grech ca ll plumtasiai-lel US caillhem
,,;sUms-by meam of whi ch images of absent things are 50 broughl
befo re our minds that we so:em actually 10 sec Ihe m with our eyes and
have Ihem before us.
Sumc people uSC the wo rd twphan/(lJiolOs. 'imaginative', (0 describe
the !",rson who is MI al im''''-'Iing ",'enl<, words and aClio", ",alislie_
ally. 1\0"' we can easily achiew: this if we 110 wish. All wc ha ,·c 10 do is
10 tran.fer on<: of our mernal w<:a knC$SC"S to useful c" d •. \vh<:" w<: a re
mentally idle, indulging in vain hopes, Or as it were day-dreanting,
the visiom of which I am speaking pursue u.- ...·e imagine ourselves
lravelling, sai ling, fighting battl.,., addressing multitudes, dispos ing
of wealth we do nol possess - and actually doing th ese things, nol
me..,ly thinking about them. I am complaining aboUI a man',
murder: am I OOt to have before my eye allihe cirtu01lllances which
one may believe 10 have been present al the lime ? Will nOt the
a«assin lea p oul suddenl)'? Will not the vict im fed t~rror as he i. !",,,ncd
 Apptndix 20 3

in. cry oot , plead. try 10 run away? Shall I not see the blo ...· stru{.k and
the bod y fall? Will no! lhe blood, th," pallor, ' he groa n!. th e l a~l brealh
"f'h~ dying man , !l i~ k in my mimI' The r", ult will hf' mfl.!t,;Q, (~r .. ro
call, it in/us/Mtio' or ,,·;i/,nri,,; it .hows rather than explain. in wn«l •. and
emotional dfe.:t~ follow as if WI' were present ours~lw:. _

SER VIUS

Tht littrary rhartlrto of Atntid ~

Commentary on Affltid 4.1 (I" 458 Thilo-Hagen). Cr. Macrobius

Salumalia 5.17+ See Chapt er [ 3.

Apolloni u. wrot ~ an A .g~"""';(a and introduced Medea in lo\"e in

Book III . T lw ",1>01" of lh~ present book was tra nsferred from this.
It con.ist. almost "ntire[y of affection ("dfu,io : JX>"'ibly "stale of
mind' , Greek dia/It,,;. ), though it has strong emotion (pathos) at the
end , where Aencas' departu re produces sorrow. It i. cenainly rnade
up entireiy of deliocration> (ccnsilio) and in trigue (subtillia/ti), for the
style is almost comic- and nO wonder, when the su bject is [o\'c.

THEOI'HRASTUS

:I udie>ut-'HimtaliQn alld .ubjtct-Olinl/atioll

Fr. 6 .'1 Wimme r. Sec ChapH~r I '2 .

Since there are. according to Ihe distinction drawn by Ihe philo-

sopher T heoph rastus. Iwo oriem"t ionl (Jdu JoIJ ) of di scourse, one

, Thi$ i. no' in Cicero·, .... ork. a..... ' ha", Ihom .

 Criticiml in Antiquity
toward, th ~ h~arcn (to whom it signifies i!Om~thing) and on~ toward,
Ih~ facts concerning which th~ spea ker proposes to penuade the
audi~nce, poetry and rhetoric arc concuncd with th~ orientation
towards the hear~n, ~a....., it is their business to sel..:t thc morc
dignified worns, as opposed to the common and vulgar ones, and
wca"c them together hannoniously . . . The philosopher on the other
hand i, primarily concerned with the orientation of diso;ouf"5C
towards facts, refuting falsehood and demonstrating the truth.

'TRACTATUS COISLIN TANUS'

C6medy and its rufts and method,

Fi rst roited in the last century from a Paris manuscript-
'Coislinianus' - th is short $ummary of pan of a Ircati.'Ie on poetry
has been much discuSSl.-d. Cramer, Ikrnays and others have
arguro that it represcnts much of Aristotlc', treatment or
comedy; but parIS of it s(""em rather to be an unimdlig(""n\
adaptatio n of the definit ion of tragedy in PlNtiu. The translation
folloW3 G. Kaibcl 's le)[t (Cornicorurn Gracorurn Fragnunla i.so fr. ).
See Chapter II 8, X 5 ·

Poetry

,
non.imitative
I
imitative
,(mimttic )
,
historical
I ,
educational

dramatic and active

suggest ive theoretical

(practical )

comedy tragedy mIme !Mltyr-play

 Tragedy ",m",-CS crnmioHs of fear fmm the soul lor means of pily
and fear; it aims at a due mfasure "rrear; and grief is ilS mother.
Comedy is an imitation of a ridiculous action ""h ieh has no com_
plele magnilude; wilh each pact in a sepa r"IC form , and involving
aClors, nol employing narrative, dfccting by means of pleasure and
lauglHer a ka/hoys;. of oueh fedinS'_ Laugh ter i$ il$ mOlher.
Laughler is produced:
(a ) from language:
(i) lor homon rms;
(ii ) by synonym';
(iii ) by repeli li'cness;
(iv) by plays on words:
(v) by hypocoriSl ie uses:
(vi) by exallage:'
(vi i) by ligure of speech
(b) from simatinm :
(i) from similarity (either with what is better or what's
worse ) ;
(ii ) fromd«cit;
(iii ) from impossibility;
(iv) from inconsequent ial poossibility;
("J from the unexpt<:ted ;
(vi ) from low characters ;
(vii ) from vulgar dancing;
(vii i) ""he" someone ",'100 has po""er p.~""" o\'er great PflZes
and .-.:eei,-"" a poor n:wa,"d :
(ix) when th e words arc unconnected and have no sequence
oflhoughl,

Comedy differs from inveCli,'c, si nce in,-tct;ve!lets forth the evils

alta"hed to its object ""itho\l1 dis~uise. whereas comedy n",-"<is what
is called 'emphasis'.
The jester seck. to exJlO"" faults of miud and tx.d y.
T here should I..: a due mea'ure of fear in tragedy and of the
ridiculous in comedy_
Th e material of comedy' plOl , d 'ara" Ier. im cllcclUal coment, dic-
tion, """g, spectacle _A comic plol is One which comists of ridiculous
aCl ions. Com ic cha racters are the buffoon, the ' humori'" (,;,,;~) and
",6 Crilicimz ill Allli'1uiry
th~ boaner (ala<:';II ). Intellectual content hal two divisions: thought
(g>Wmi) and proof (pis/;s ). [Proofil arc of five kinds : oa1hs, agm:ments,
evidence of whnnses, talll, laws.]
The diction of comedy i. CQmmon and everyday. The comic I'O"t
must gi,'c his characters hia own oath-c diale<;t, and to Mrangen their
native tongue.
Song.; belong 10 mwic, and the independ ent prin cipia should be
leamffi from tha t an.
S!",cmcle runtributes much ( ?begui lement ) 10 plays.
PIOI, diction and song are K<:O in all (omedia, intcllet:tu al colllcnt,
character and spectacle in a few.
The four parts of comedy: pro logue, choral song, episode, ~odo:s.
The prologue .. the pan of a <:<:>rnniy up 10 II", (n(m tlte of the ( hOll.!>.
The choral song is what i, sung by the choms, ifit ia long enough. An
cpioode is the part !>ct"'un two choral songs. The cxooos is what is
said oy Ih e chorus al the end.
Old Comedy has a preponderance of the ridiculous; New Comedy
abando"," this and indinn to ""riouSIleM. Middle Comedy is a
comoinat ion of the Iwo .

VELLEIUS PATER CU L US

.1 hislorio~ rtj/tcls 011 the course of literature

1.16--18. Text: Stegmann von P rit/:wa ld (t933). See Chapler

XI 4.

Th i, part of my work has already exceeded its intended scale, and I

realise tha i, in thi, headlong rosh, which lik e a wheel or rmhing
stream ne,·er leu me sta nd still, it is more likdy that I shall have to
leave out essential detail, than indude superAuous Onts. Ne,·erlheleu,
I cannot resiS! selling down in wri ling a question wh ich 1 have o ften
lurned o'·er in my mind and never brought to a dear 101ulion. Who
can ma rvel enough al the raci Ihal Ihe mO$loul$landing la!en" in any
profeuion come together in . imilar forms and within Ihe sa me narrow
confines of lime? Animals of various species, when Ihey a rc shul up in
a cage or olher enclosure, neve rtheleu separate them""h-es from one
another, and each spec'''' forms its own group. S im ilarly, minds
 Appwdix
'"7
capable ofpanicuJar kind,of distinguished work separale themselves
off from olhers, similar abilities finding similar limes in which 10
develop. A ,ingle period of not many years brough t glory 10 Iraged)·
Ihrough the inspiration of Aeschylus. Sophocles and Euripides. A
single age did the&ame fOfOld Comedy undcrCra(inus. Aris!ophan<!$
and Eupnli'. Menand ..... and hi, con lrmporaries - toough by nn means
<"qual s!- P hilemon and Dil'hi lm. i"'·'·IlIt'd Nt'w a-,m~dy and lefl il
in inimilable perfe<;l ion, all within a few yean. The philosophical
geniuses deriving from Ihe leaching of Socrales, whom I enumeraled
above, flourished hut a shon space after Ihe dealh of Plato and
Arislotle. Whal dislinction was Ihere in Ihe orators tx,fore isocrales,
ur again after his pupils and Ihose who learned from them ' The
chronological limi u; are so Ilarrow Ihal everyone worth me",ioning
could have bttn ""en by all Ihe rest.
Thi. is;," true in Roman history as in Greek. If " ·e diocount the Tude
tx,ginnings. memorahle for Ihe f.~CI Ih al Ihey mark the firs! invention
oflhe gcnre. Roman traged)" is confined 10 Acci .., and his eirt;le. The
del icate h .. mourofL;, lin wi! shone almost simultaneously in Can·iliu"
Terence. and Afrani us. As for Ihe historians, couming Livy among the
ancien ts, and exclud ing Cato and a few ohscure primiti,·.,., a space of
eigh ty years held them all. Our wealth in poelry wem no further hack,
and no funher forward. Oratory, foremic effecti,·enC$.1 and the perftt-
lion of prose - again excluding Cato, and begging pardon of Crass us
and Scipio, Laclius, the Cracchi. t"anuius and Servius Calha - hurst
on Ihe world so completely under its great mona...,h Cicero, that Ihere:
are ,·ery few before his lime in ....·hom one ca" take plea,ure. 3"<.1 nOnC
that one can admire who wa, not either <ce n hy Cicero himself or 5aw
Cicero. Anyone who sludiC!; the chronology will disco\'er Ih31 Ihe
same hold. of scholars. scu Ipwn , pairuers. and cngra\'ers: Ihe acme
of cvery art is confined wilhi n the narro,,·est lempoml limits. I often
ask my""lf what is the cause of Ih is limitalion of li ke talenls in par-
ticular periods, this conce ntration On particular Mudi es and Iheir
",wards; but I find no cause Ihal I can regard as certain, Ihough pcr_
hap. somc probable ones, of ....·hid, thc followins arc (he most im_
portant. T aJeru is nourished by emulation; jealousy alld admiration
both kindle Ihedesire 10 imi tate. II is nalural Ihal a pursuit earnestly
follo,,·ed .hould rise 10 great heights. But il i. difficult 10 stay in a
perfeci !laIC, and il is nalu ral for Ihing. 10 fall back whell progress is
nO longer possible. J ust ;,s "·e are firsl mo\'ed 10 pursue those we Ihin k
tx,lIer than ourselves, so, when we ha,·e come 10 despair oflh e possi.
bility of surpassing or equalli ng them , our enlhusi3l;1ll wanes as our
hope does. We cease to pursue Ihe unattainable. We abandon
nhausted material and look for new. Pa"i ng o\'er fields where We
,'" Crilitiml in Alltiquity
cannot ",xcel, we ""exsomething wh.,,,, we can sh ine. Thus Crequent
and rapid change b«om e!l the greatest hintlrance to perfcct work.
It i. not only Ihe chronological limitation., but the gwgraphical
ones, lhal excite wonde •. The .inglc city of Ath"m, o\'"r a p".iod of
many years, flourished in literature and art mOf(: liIan the whole ortile
rest of Greece. Physically, that nation ~p r"ad. over many cities; it!
j,ncllcclual Mrcnglh, o"e might well judge, i. confined within the
walls of Athem alone. No less surprising i, Ihe fact that there is not a
single Argive, Theban or Spartan oralorjudged of any amhon ty while
he lived orwonh remernberingwhcn he died. Thesecitiesindced were
banen in olher branches of li'cralUft 3JOO, .,,,cept Ihal Pindar'$ one
"oice is the glory of Th ebes. T he Spanan claim to Aleman is fa!",.
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(1/) rol/fe/ions (lnd all/lwll/gin

ALL Anrim/ Li/aM)' Criticism , the principal

(cxtS in IIew (ranstillions, cd. D . A. Ru sse ll
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Iknso n and Prosser Readings ill Classical Rhtlor;r, ed. T. W.
Benson and M. H . Prosser, Boston 1969
['rtlllinger GIl/HiraI and M tliina/ /.;/(r(1.,)' (;ri/;c;sm, cd _
A. Prelllinger, O. B. H ardison and K .
Ke rrans, New York [974 (translations of
some ccmrallCXtll)
Lanala PffliclI pre.P/a/oll;C(1, ed. G. Lanala,
Florence 1963 (texts with It al ian (T,ms.
and cornm. )
Radnmachcr, AS Artlum Strip/OilS, cd. L. Raderma ch er,
1951 (texIs of pre-Aristotelian rhetoric)
Spenger RhtlorlS Grutci, ed. L. Spengel, 3 \"o\s,
l.cjp~ig , 8s6 (tcx tsorlhc mai" amho ... ;
partly replaced by la ter editions, but still
Ihe must convenient collection ror refer-
ence )
Walz RhlllJrtJ Grau !, I'd. C. Walz, 9 vols, 1832-6
(still the fullest collection of rhetor ical
tex ts, partIr replaced by more mod ern
editions)
H arm Rhtlorls LA/ini mimms, cd. R . H a lm, 1863
 CriliciJ1Tj in Antiquity
""
(b) Indh·idual au/hOTS ( (l briif srl«lion of Itxlf and tram/alions)

AnSlides
Quintilianus ed. R . P . Wi nnington- Ing ram, 1~3
Aristot le, Pollia ed. I. Bywater, Oxford 1909 (with trans-
lation); cd. R. Kassel, Oxford 1965
(with co mm. by D. W. Luc'u, Oxford
11)68); tra ns. M . E.. H ubbard (in ALC).
Ari sto tl e, Rheto,;, ed. R . K 'ISSd, Berlin 1976
ed. with comm., E. M. Co~ r8n
Trans. J. H . Freese (Loe b)
(Aristotle] Rh etorica
ad Al exandrum cd. M . Fuhrmann, 1966
trans. E. S. For:ster (O xford Aristotle vol.
I r, 1924)
Caecilius Fragmlnla , ed. E. Oren loch 1907
Cicero De Ora/IITt ed. K. F. K umani~k i, 1969
ed. A. S . Wilkins (with com mentary )
Irans. E. W. SUllon and H . R a c kh am
(Loeb)
Brutus ed. H . M alcovati
roo O .Ja hn - W. K roll - B. K ytzler (wit h
commentary ) !g6~
ed. A. E. Doug las (with co mm entary )
, <)66
0.11101 ed.J . E . Sandys (wit h comme nta ry ) 1865
ed. \Y. K roll (wi th co mmentary) 1913
See I1/S0 Barwic k.
IC icero] Rllt/orieo ad flt mmium. roo H. Capla n
( Loeh)
Cornutus Tlltologia Grruca, ed. C. Lang, 1861
'ConlU!us' Comu/i Ar/ij RMwricru tpi/omt, ed. J.
Graeven, 1891 (= 'Anonymus Seg ueri-
anus' )
Dionysius of
H a l i("" mas.~,,~ Opum da , cd . H . Uscnc r- L. R ade r-
macher, 2 \"ols .• 1899, 1904 (\"01. 'l includ es
the pseudo- Di onysia n treatises, grouped
loge tht'r al 'Th e Art of R hetoric' )
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Separate: ed itio nl of Book )( (W. Peu~rson )
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commentari es
Suetonius Dl grammMicis, Ih ,lrelo,ihus, ed. A.
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Boch and ar/jellS

[Any oflhe followi ng may be referred to in the footnotes by the

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Abrams, ~I , H . The M irTor and liu Lamp, Oxford 1953

Arbusow, L. C% res RMlorici, ed. 2, Gtittingen 1963
Arrigh etti, G. Satiro: Vita di [unpid" Pisa '964-
Atkin s, J. W . H. L itt rary Criticism in Anliqui!» (2 vols), Cam-
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Auerbach , E. L ilnary Languag. and ils Public in [AU Latin An-
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Avenarius, G. Lukians Schrifl zur GlJehichlschTlibung, M"'isen-
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Axelson , B. Unp(}disdu Warier, Lund 1945
Baldwin, C. S. Ancient RMlD ric (md Pattie, New Yo rk 1924 (re-
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Bardon , H . La Lilliralure laline inconnue (2 vols), Paris 1952, [956
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BUher, W. Btitragt {ur Erkliirung dtr S(hrif/ vom Erkabtnm,
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Cairns, F. Gmuic Composition in Gruk alld Roman POltry, Edin-
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Causeret, C. E/udl sur /0 langue dt la rhitorique tI de /0 critique
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Clark, A. M. Studies in Littrar;' M rHiu, Edinburgh 1946
Clark, D. L. RhdoTlc in Gruo-Romml tducatlon, New York '957
Cla rk e, ~'1 . L. Rhtloric at Romt, London 1953
Collsin, J. E /udts sur 10 pohit /alil1l, Paris 1945
Eludts sur Qui'llilien , Paris 1936
Cupaiuolo, F. Tra Porsia . PM/ica, Naples [966
Cunius, G. R. Europtan Littra/ure OIld Ihe Latin ,\hddle Agu,
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D' Anna, G. Lt idttltlltrarit di Sudonio, Floren<:e 1954
Douglas, A. E. 'A Ciceronian wn triblllion to rhetori<:a l
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Flashar , H . Orr Dialog fon als Ztugllis plalo/Uschtn Philosophit.
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Fletcher, A. AII.gary, tht Thro ry of a S)'mbolic .Hodt, Cornell 1964
Fraser, P. M , '>/oltmai, AI(xalldria, Oxford 1972
Fuhrmann, M . Einfokrung i~ di~ alltike Dick/ungs/morit, Darm-
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".
G ru~,
CriliciJ11l in AlItiquiry
C. M . A. T he Grtlk and Roman Crilics, Toronto I g65
Gudeman, A. Grundriss thr wsckie,,/( dtr klassisdlro Philologie, ed.
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Guthrie, W. K . C. A Hislary of Gmk Philosophy, Ca mbridge
Igfu-78
H agedorn, D. Zur Idun'tllre des Hmnogelltf (H ypomnemal3 8),
C o ttingen I g64
Harriott, R. Poetry and Criticism bifort Plato, London J!J69
H arvey, A. E. 'The classification of Greek lyric poets', GQ. 6
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H ellwig, A. Untersuchungen ~ur Thear;, dtT RMlorik bri Pillion und
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Henn, T . R . Longinl.<s in English Criticism, Cambridge 1934
Herric k, M . T . T lu Poetics of Aristotle in England (Cornell
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K" nnedy, G. A. T"~ Art of P'rJuIMion in Cruce, Princeton 1963
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KOSie r, S. Antikt E/WJthtorun, Wicsbaden 1970
Kostas, G, S. Studiu in By-tantint Rhe/oric, Thessa toni ki 1973
Kroll, W. Siuditn <um JiersliindniJ dtr riimischm Lileralur, Stuugart
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La Rue Van Hoot.... Til. M.taphorical T . rminology rif Gru k
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Lausberg, H. Handbuch dtr liurarischm Rllt/brik, M uni ch 1960
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Lcbek, W.-D. 'lur rhctorisc hen Theorie des Archaismus',
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Leeman, A. D. Oralionis Ratio, Amsterdam 1963
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Long, A. A. Htlltllisti, Philosophy, London 1974
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Mon k, S. H. The Sub/ime, Ann Arbor paperbad.s cd. , 19fio
M ii hme lt, ~.1. Crirchi.icne Grammatik in der Vtrgiltrk!iirung
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Neulcs hip, H . u(turrs and & $"P, SUQ"d Suiu, O xford 1895
Neumeister, C. Gru"dsill;;.e <fer joTtllsischen Rhetori!:., 11.1 unic h I g64-
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Norde n, E. Antike Kunstprosa , cd. 5, Stun gart 1958
Nort h, H. 'The use of poet ry in the tra in ing of the an cie nt
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 Index

Th is ",Ire';,-. ioon conCe"lralQ on pruptr namQ and lrehnical term, on

which klmc . ub""n ';. ) obo..:,v.,Wn i. mad. in the loxl.

Ad; ... A,;..id"" ~6: rh •• ori<:al ,,,,,a,i.. aK.~HiIJ. 5L 4h

. "rihu,ffl 't> him. ~ ~ C..c;liu. (of Cal.acte), S:i; 'Ali.
Adio. S.;I". L.• 4§ Cairn., f., '.iZ f.
Acochylu., 101. '-E Callim achu. , ~" , 36, Z!!, 1l., Lllo f.
Afr.miWi, ,61 Catvu" C. Licinim, :i!!
Ag".hae<:hid .., :u,!M., '.l3 If. ea..iu, S.'·CTU$. '.§2
AleidamaJ, !!2 ,AQMtrif (ofOly]e), ~ '..!l!!
Aleman, 163 Chrislia" auilud e> 10 lil<Talur~. ~ r.
Ale .. ndcr (rhelO<), '-i,l, 176 If. Cicero. !2.. :m,:l!' f. , ~ !..!& !..:1!! f..
allegory, ~ i:L 66 If.• !!fr, 2a If. lli r.
An,irnach ll$, 3l.t 49. Conx and T ;,ias, "1
Antioch". of A>caior.. ~ Cmlcs of Mallu •• 7.J ~:H
Antiphon, 1'1 CI .... i ... '..i!t
Apollodoru •. !!i, 'Ill f. Cun i",. E" 10", ~
'''fa; (,·jn".. of >lyle), ~ ~
M'uid .. Quint;l;a".... ill O.IT1Q" of Oa . ~
Ar;"ton of Ch ins, i! Mdam alion. 9.~ f., 116, tJ!!
AristophanQ (comic I'O<'t J. 1., :Ill r., decline, Ihcori", of, ~ f" lI!I6 (,

"''"'
Ar;"OlI" I'otl;'" '!...1.:L ~ r., !'J... >'9.,
3..' If, ~ If" 9.! If.. LQ!l ff., UJ6 If.,
'.!9. 1f., ~ If., ~ ~ If.; R~'lori<,
d":OTum (pt,,.,,. ), 110. !..J1, ~
uiN)liJ. II!!
o.,metrius of Phalcrum . ll: ,61
o.,m",rius (0 . ' lflt), z.,!!.:l!!.c 4", ~
...:., ~ r.o ~ '-E C. '..1l; olher Ill , ~
refe rmc,,". l'!. r.. ~ r. ikmocri,us, -e.
If., U I
A,r.,oxenu" 39 O"m".'h<n ..... 11.. ~ '.l.l f.
",It;., (u r ban e) , \l<l Dinardl u" !.OO f.
'A u;ci.m and A,jani,m', i!l: If., 51 H i""},, iu. of Ha lican,u. " • • !h i!l f,
~ If., :&. !.!.!.. I'.&.. ,60, ~
I".. Dion).i", (Ar/ oj Rlt.""';,), 9 If.,
~ Ih , ~ '-2! If., !.l1t !!3 If.
 lndtlf
Diu Chry .... 'om, :u. ~ ~ lll.. La Cerna. l:l8.
'-3!, t.fu If. I""'JIroIir (" brillianc.·) , ~
ulli~i/tIJ, ~ !3!!
np/his, !.1.3. !.5,l I,pw. !XI
Em~~dodcs, "1 fA"I''''''''., 3!i
Epicul'Ca"', 39. 9:i 1e11.. u a lit .... ry li>rm, 99:
~pid~icticoratory, ~ r., u.Ii r" !..1:\!, 'Iico n",,' of I""'to (......;.., li",,/i_), t!.

'"
E... lootMnes, i!t 9:l
ill"", !Q, '-l3. '...HJ WJ
'"
longinu. (the pupil of Plocinus) , ~
·Longinu.' (th. author of O. s,,;-
Euripid .... 10. f. , t.!5., t!3. lirrti!f), !. ~ !\, !l. !.2, ~ y' 1f.,
a. f .. '--'1h !.!!.. ~ '--!lJ '--3!. ~
filu...,. ~nd ,ropes, !..iJ If. ~ f., U!
~'ront(}, 6, . '.!!!! ff. Lucian. !£!. b
Fulgenliu •• !l1 Luciliu., ~
lyric I""'try, d ..... ification <>f, '..H.
genre, ~ !.21
G<,rgias (of Uon1;ni ), \UI. If., !..!.l Macrobi uo, 100, !.!3. '--93. If.
G<,raia. ('tM younger'. H. .'iQ •• c. ), .'.fa""enu, ll. LIllI.
'Marathon oath' (DemostMn ... D.
'"
v_lift·. u, lit.
Gr." a, R ., ~
,..,,"'. 2 08 )' ~ ~ ~
Menand., (comic poet ), '-S, ~ ~
Menandcr (,he"... ), ~
/liWti (·pl.a.m.'. 'charm'), '-33 r. ",jmiJis and ' mime,ic a.,,'. '--3 f. (IN
Hogcs;as. 3h 113 ..m a."pter VII )
Hcrmagoras, i1
HrrmogC1'<S, ~ !.!L ~ r., ~ If. N«>pLatonuto. ~ f.. !.Q.'i f.
po.·H eraciitu. (" Humeric 'Alle_ N<:<>ptolcm ... of Parium , l!L at;
gorin' ), g§ If., '--9Q If. 00",,1, critici.m of, '--3
Herodntus, II!!
Heoiod, '--L ...t 1.!.. I!l "","lOry, origins and dttline of, 166 f.
Ai"",;". II
HomO', ..., ...t £ Z!! f" 86 f., !.!!!. P""il "';l OJ lop', O!L !cl!'

...
"3· !..l1 Parlh"ni ... , ti
Hora"", 1, 1., ll.. Th H, ~ ;& r.. Z!, J>t::;OI t.P' i,JItWttisOTalitJ, ' prooc'), '--i9,
80,91, ~ '53, l.1IlI f,
1I)·ginu., ti I'f<; ffer, R ., ""
pM~I"';" (';mag;"''';on'), ;§, !W.
i4Mi of It}' le. '--:l!'. f. ~ f., '--i2! 2<12 f.
impiration. oym boli.m of, ;& (M< 61,.
Philodcm w, £ t;l, 91
Chapter V) PhilostratWl. ~ r..88
in~ention in rhelO. i. , L '--"-" Pindar. '--!L ~ 1.!.. !5J., !.9J
Ion of ChiOl. ~ Plato, t..L '--!h ~ ff.. ~ 7i ff., 85. 8g f.,
lsocrateo, oS. ,..a w:.! If., !!!. '--ilb. ~ I L ~
Pliny (' the )"QUnger'], 5.5., 6..t
f./opi (/~TI."' . plagiarism ), UJI Plolinu., 105
tri/iUs, h.!! Plu,arch, h. ~ I!i, ~
 IlId",: "9
politi/.(. Ari"otle' • ..,n,. o( '-1 Stoia, 3!1,jl f.. !l:.
""',I,k, pAd",."",., ~ ·style·. melaphorical u$l: in Engli.h,
j1Mi,iA9' I.ps, ~ , :1 '
Pol},c"' t... 2lI ' . "'."., it '21
Porph}'ry. ~ ,ong'.""•. '""J,.pilik.,. '--.l1
p",idon;u,. ~
Proclu. (~rarnmaria n ), !...l:L
Produo (N«>pl.,oni .. ). 66 f .• ,06.
= so.lh"'-, , '-1!

lali, .,,,,,'. qOdl;, ,i,. ('style rcfl.e",

'..9!1 If. lifc" ), tfu f.
P'op "'""''''''., !..:.!:I Tacitu., fu r. , 'bi
",.,h,o' (fri~icl ), ·.ill Th •• gen .. of R hegium , '--!I
p>lIth"gog;a. 9L 2flO Th.odo,u>, lli
Theogni•. :H
Qni n(ilian. '0.60, '--'2!.h !l!.. T19 H'., T h.oph, .."",. J,. 3!L !J,L !.QL !.!!1
""" If. ~03

Theof'Ompm, 6
rhetoric. ,L '--'L 41 (s,., .1,. Chapter ' three OI)"I ...·. ,u, !...l:L !ill fT. (Sit ./'"
\' 11/) Chapter IX)
HIu''';'d"J Alt>d",,',um. :!::!l n,ucydid<o, J..!Q. '--91 If.
Rluwrna"J /fmn"ium , i1 Tilxriu, (rhelOl). !1!i
R~ .i lh, . I. ~p,,'. ~ 'T.-.c ... tu, Coi;lini.nu,· , '--.l!. ~ If.
T" 'ining, T. . '00, ,no, ll2
,.pJM'. snpJM"~iQ (de.r. clar;t)"), '-1:L
Valori u. C:uo, grammarian. ti
'"
sa.i,.." usc of in critieism. ~
sa'}" play>, '-.53
Sa, ), ru •• ,j!!
Valer}', p" 'A'l
Varro ( M. T eron! iu.), i.'i
Vdlei", Patenul",. !ftl, w6 If.
Sen",. (~Ide'), "--'--'-.£! Virgil. :..!i, U,c;, 57, 67 . L2li If., !.fu.,
Stnoca ()"Oungcr ), 59 f. ,II, If., '--!l3 If.• 2<)3
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Simonidco, :£!o
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