Isocrates’ Against the Sophists, Alcidamas’ On Sophists, and Plato’s Phaedrus

In paragraphs 9 and 10 of Against the Sophists Isocrates criticises ‘those who profess to teach political discourse’ (tois tous politikous logous hupischnoumenois): ‘They are themselves so stupid (houtȏ anaisthȇtȏs autoi te diakeintai) and conceive others to be so dull (kai tous allous echein hupeilȇphasi) that (hȏste), although the speeches which they compose are worse (hȏste cheiron graphontes tous logous) than those which some laymen improvise (ȇ tȏn idiȏtȏn tines autoschediazousin), nevertheless they promise to make their students such clever orators (homȏs hupischnountai toioutous rȇtoras tous sunontas poiȇsein) that they will not overlook any of the possibilities which a subject affords (hȏste mȇden tȏn enontȏn en tois pragmasi paralipein, 9).’ (Translation G. Norlin)

Alcidamas opened On Sophists with the following riposte: ‘Since some of those who are called sophists (Epeidȇ tines tȏn kaloumenȏn sophistȏn) have been neglectful of knowledge and education (historias men kai paideias ȇmelȇkasi), and as to the ability to give speeches (kai tou dunasthai legein) they are as inexperienced as laymen (tois idiȏtais apeirȏs echousi), devoting themselves to writing speeches (graphein de memeletȇkotes logous) and displaying their wisdom through means of no permanence (di abebaiȏn deiknuntes tȇn heautȏn sophian) they affect a grave and solemn air and think highly of themselves (semnunontai kai mega phronousi), and being in possession of only a minor part of the power of rhetoric (kai polloston meros tȇs rȇtorikȇs kektȇmenoi dunameȏs) they claim to possess the art in its entirety (holȇs tȇs technȇs amphisbȇtousi), for this reason (dia tautȇn tȇn aitian) I shall undertake to make an accusation (epicheirȇsȏ katȇgorian poiȇsasthai) of the written discourses (tȏn graptȏn logȏn); not because I consider the power to write discourses alien to myself (ouch hȏs allotrian emautou tȇn dunamin autȏn hȇgoumenos), but because I pride myself more on other things (all’ hȏs eph’ heterois meizon phronȏn), and think that one ought to consider writing a secondary business (kai to graphein en parergȏi meletan oiomenos chrȇnai), and that those who waste their lives writing (kai tous ep’ auto touto ton bion katanaliskontas) are very deficient (apoleleiphthai polu) both in rhetoric (kai rȇtorikȇs) and in philosophy (kai philosophias hupeilȇphȏs); and they would be more rightly called poets than men of wisdom (kai polu dikaioteron an poiȇtas ȇ sophistas prosagoreuesthai), I think (nomizȏn).’ (1-2)

Alcidamas thus at a stroke reminded the reader both of Isocrates’ attack on him in Against the Sophists, and of the Phaedrus, in which Socrates censures writers who ascribe permanence (bebaiotȇta, 277d) to their writings. Alcidamas’ ‘those who waste their lives writing  … would be more rightly called poets than men of wisdom’ recalls Socrates’  ‘the man who does not possess things of more value (ton mȇ echonta timiȏtera) than the things he composed or wrote (hȏn sunethȇke ȇ egrapsen), turning them upside down over a long period of time (anȏ katȏ strephȏn en chronȏi), sticking them together and taking them apart (pros allȇla kollȏn te kai aphairȏn), you’ll rightly call a poet (en dikȇi pou poiȇtȇn prosereis, Phaedrus 278d8-e2)’, where the name of a philosopher Socrates reserves for a man who ‘speaking in his own person (legȏn autos) has the ability to show that what he has written is of little worth’ (dunatos ta gegrammena phaula apodeixai, 278c6-7, tr. C.J. Rowe).

Alcidamas’ ‘[they] are very deficient (apoleleiphthai polu) both in rhetoric (kai rȇtorikȇs) and in philosophy (kai philosophias)’ echoes Plato’s Euthydemus: ‘they are on the fence between a philosopher and a politician (methoria philosophou te andros kai politikou, 305c7) … they think they have a moderate amount of philosophy and a moderate amount of political wisdom (hȇgountai metriȏs men philosophias echein, metriȏs de politikȏn, 305d7-8) … but in fact (alla tȏi onti), these men (houtoi), participating in both (amphoterȏn metechontes), fall short of both (amphoterȏn hȇttous eisin, 306c2-3).

It might be objected that Plato speaks of Isocrates being on a fence between a philosopher and a politician, whereas Alcidamas as him being deficient both in rhetoric and philosophy, but in the democratic Athens politic and rhetoric were used synonymously in the sphere of politics, as they are used in the Phaedrus. Let me refer to two passages. At 258a1-9 Socrates says: ‘when a politician begins a composition (en archȇi andros politikou sungrammatos) … he says may be “Resolved by the Council” or “by the People” or by both (“Edoxe” pou phȇsin “tȇi boulȇi” ȇ “tȏi dȇmȏi” ȇ amphoterois), and then “Proposed by so-and-so” (kai “hos kai hos eipen”) … after which he proceeds to what he has to say (epeita legei dȇ meta touto) … this sort of thing amounts, don’t you think, to composing a speech (ȇ soi allo ti phainetai to toiouton ȇ logos sungegrammenos; translation R. Hackforth)?’ At 258b10-c1 he says: ‘When he becomes an orator or king capable of acquiring the power of a Lycurgus, a Solon or a Darius (hotan hikanos genȇtai rȇtȏr ȇ basileus, hȏste labȏn tȇn Lukourgou ȇ Solȏnos ȇ Dareiou dunamin, tr. C.J. Rowe)’

In the next twenty paragraphs Alcidamas describes the merits of the extempore speeches and the demerits of writing: Writing is worthy of contempt because it is easy to learn and accessible to anybody, whatever may be his natural ability. But to speak well off the cuff on anything that may occur, to have ready useful arguments and concepts, to be able to grasp the right moment and respond to what people may desire with a speech that is to the point, this requires talent and good education. (3) Even an uneducated man can with ease draw on writings of the sophists of the past, imitate what was said well, learn from advices of others, inspect again and again the written text, clean it up and rewrite it. (4) All good and beautiful things are rare, difficult to get, and require hard work. Things of little value are easy to get. Therefore, if writing is easier than speaking extempore, it is correct to think of it as being less valuable. (5) The masters of extempore speaking can easily master writing, changing only slightly their mental habit, as any reasonable man can easily believe, but no one would believe that those who practiced writing can because of it become capable of extempore speaking, for those trained in things that are easy find it hard to do things that are difficult. (6) A man who can carry a heavy load can easily carry a light load, but a man whose strength goes as far as to be capable to carry light loads will not be able to carry anything heavier. A fast runner will easily follow slow runners, a slow runner will never be able to equal a fast runner. A man capable of hitting a distant target with a javelin or a bow will easily hit a target that is near, but it is not clear that a man capable of hitting a target that is near will be able to hit a distant target. (7) The same is true of discourses. It is clear that the man who can speak well off the cuff, given time and leisure, will become an excellent writer. But it is equally clear that if the man who devoted his time to writing turns to speaking off the cuff, he will be in great difficulties, and his mind will be disturbed. (8)

Paragraph 9 corresponds to Phaedrus 261a7-b5. In the given paragraph Alcidamas asks: ‘For who doesn’t know (tis gar ouk oiden) that speaking extempore (hoti legein men ek tou parautika) is necessary for those who speak in public assemblies, for those who go to court, and for those engaged in private intercourse (kai dȇmȇgorousi kai dikazomenois kai tas idias homilias poiousin anankaion esti)?’ In the Phaedrus Socrates asks: ‘Well then, will not the art of rhetoric, taken as a whole, be a kind of leading the soul (Ar’ oun to men holon hȇ rȇtorikȇ an eiȇ technȇ psuchagȏgia tis) by means of things said (dia logȏn), not only in law-courts (ou monon en dikastȇriois) and all other kinds of public gatherings (kai hosoi alloi dȇmosioi sullogoi), but in private ones too (alla kai en idiois;)? … Is this what you’ve heard about it?’ Phaedrus replies: ‘No by Jove (Ou ma ton Di’), not absolutely that (ou pantapasi houtȏs); it is principally (alla malista men pȏs) to lawsuits (peri tas dikas) that the art of speaking and writing is applied (legetai te kai graphetai technȇi), though also in public addresses (legetai de kai peri dȇmȇgorias); I have not heard of any extension beyond that (epi pleon de ouk akȇkoa).’ It appears that when Alcidamas wrote his essay, the extension of the art of speaking to private gatherings, which was a novelty when Plato wrote the Phaedrus, became a commonplace.

Alcidamas argues that if one is to reprimand those who do wrong, or comfort the unfortunate, or calm those who are angry, or to refute accusations suddenly brought up, in all such cases the power of speaking is capable to assist men in their needs, but writing needs time far longer than are the critical times which the opportunities offer. So what man in his right mind would strive to acquire the ability that is so far behind the given opportunities? (10) How ridiculous it would be if at the moment when the herald asks ‘who wants to speak?’ a rhetorician went to his study to compose and learn his speech? As if we were the masters of the cities and it was in our power to assemble the law-courts, and the assemblies of people deliberating on the common affairs, and summon people to listen to our talks whenever we have written them! (11)

Paragraph 12 is corrupt, but in what remains of it Alcidamas maintains that written speeches which are stylistically polished and resemble poems rather than speeches discard that which comes spontaneously and sounds more like truth. In paragraph 13 he proves the preceding thought: those who write speeches for law-courts try to escape precision, imitate speaking off the cuff, and appear to be writing the best speeches if they resemble the written texts as little as possible. If even for the speechwriters the mark of correctness is imitating extempore speeches, shouldn’t we hold such education in the highest esteem that makes us good at this type of speeches?

One ought to reject writing of speeches for it makes the life of those who undertake it very uneven. One cannot know the written speeches by heart concerning every subject; of necessity, if some of what one says is off the cuff and some a recital of a written speech, the speaking is found faulty for its unevenness, some of it resembling a theatrical performance, some appearing to be poorly in comparison. (14)

In paragraphs 3-14 Alcidamas extoled the ability to give extempore speeches and berated the written speeches, speaking in plural of both types of rhetoricians. In paragraph 15 he aims his attack directly at Isocrates, as he did in paragraph 1: ‘It is terrible if a man who lays claim to philosophy (deinon d’ esti ton antipoioumenon philosophias) and promises to educate others (kai paideuein heterous hupischnoumenon) can show his wisdom if he has a writing tablet or a booklet (an men echȇi grammateion ȇ biblion, deiknunai dunasthai tȇn hautou sophian), but if he does not have these (an de toutȏn amoiros genȇtai), he becomes no better than those who are uneducated (mȇden tȏn apaideutȏn beltiȏ kathestanai), and if he is given time (kai chronou men dothentos) he can produce a speech (dunasthai logon exenenkein), but if the immediate response is required (eutheȏs de peri tou protethentos) he is more speechless than laymen (aphȏnoteron einai tȏn idiȏtȏn), and if he proclaims the art of rhetoric (kai logȏn men technas apangellesthai) while he appears to have not the slightest ability to speak (tou de legein mȇde mikran dunamin echont’ en heautȏi phainesthai).’

In the Euthydemus, in a response to Against the Sophists, Plato pointed at Isocrates’ inability to give his own speeches. Cleinias says at 289d2-3: ‘I see that there are some composers of speeches (Horȏ tinas logopoious) who do not know how to use the speeches which they make (hoi tois idiois logois, hois autoi poiousin, ouk epistantai chrȇsthai). At 305b5-9 Socrates asks: ‘To which category does the man belong (poterȏn ȇn) who approached you (ho proselthȏn soi) and criticized philosophy (kai memphomenos tȇn philosophian;)? Is he one of those (poteron tȏn) that are formidable at fighting (agȏnisasthai deinȏn) in the lawcourts (en tois dikastȇriois), an orator (rȇtȏr tis), or an instructor of orators (ȇ tȏn tous toioutous eispempontȏn), who makes the speeches (poiȇtȇs tȏn logȏn) with which the orators do their fighting (hois hoi rȇtores agȏnizontai;)?’ Crito answers: ‘He’s certainly no orator at all (Hȇkista nȇ ton Dia rȇtȏr); in fact, I don’t think he’s ever come before the court (oude oimai pȏpot’ auton epi dikastȇrion anabebȇkenai). But he is reputed to understand the business (all’ epaïein auton phasi peri tou pragmatos), by Jove (nȇ ton Dia), and to be formidable (kai deinon einai), and to compose formidable speeches (kai deinous logous suntithenai, 305c1-4).’

There can be little doubt that Alcidamas wrote his response to Isocrates’ Against the Sophists after Plato wrote his response to it in the Euthydemus. While Plato simply points to Isocrates’ inability to give the speeches he wrote, Alcidamas enlarges on it, depicting the very preoccupation with the writing of speeches in as negative light as possible.

In the next two paragraphs Alcidamas further substantiates his attack on Isocrates. He says that the attention given to writing and exercising oneself in practicing it results in having the greatest difficulty in speaking. For when one gets used to working on his speeches bit by bit and bringing his words together with precision and rhythmically, his thoughts progressing in slow motion, when he must speak extempore, being compelled to do things that are contrary to his habitual activity, his mind is in an impasse and greatly disturbed; being unable to deal with it, he is just like those with weak voice (mȇden de diapherein tȏn ischnophȏnȏn); unable to use ready wit, he can’t speak fluently and in a friendly manner. (16)

Alcidamas’ reference to Isocrates’ weak voice can be confirmed by the words of Isocrates himself: ‘For I was not given a strong enough voice’ (oute gar phȏnȇn eschon hikanȇn, To Philip 81)

In paragraph 17 Alcidamas compares the writers of speeches compelled to speak extempore to men who have been in chains for a long time; released from prison, they can’t walk as other people do, but revert to those forms and rhythms of walking, in which they were forced to walk when in chains; the writing imprisons the soul and stands in the way of fluency required in speaking off the cuff.

To learn the written speeches is difficult and to keep them in memory laborious; the lapses of memory at the contests are shameful. To learn and remember little things is more difficult than great things, many things more difficult than few things. In extempore speeches one has to keep in mind just the main thoughts (enthumȇmata); the words clarifying them come up as one speaks. With the written speeches one must remember all the words and syllables, and to learn them with precision.  (18) The main thoughts are few and great in the speeches, nouns and verbs many, of little importance, and little differing from one another; each of the main thoughts is explained once, whereas we must use the same words many times. That’s why it is easy to remember the former, but to memorize and guard in memory the latter is difficult. (19) Furthermore, lapses of memory in extempore speeches escape notice and are not shameful; the speech being easy going and the words not smoothly and precisely cut, if a thought escapes the speaker, it is not difficult for a rhetorician to pass over it to thoughts that come next without exposing himself to shame; and if one later remembers what escaped one’s memory, it is easy to incorporate it and make it clear. (20) But those who recite the written speeches, if they miss just a little thing and make a slight change, they have a great difficulty to recover their thread, they make great pauses, interrupt their speech repeatedly by silence, which makes their difficulties unseemly, laughable, and hopeless. (21)

The extempore orators are better in responding to the desires of their audiences than those who recite written speeches. Those who labour at their written speeches long before the contests sometimes miss the right timing (eniote tȏn kairȏn hamartanousin); they either speak longer than the audience desires to listen, or their speech is too short when the audience wants to hear more. (22) For it is difficult (chalepon gar), and perhaps impossible (isȏs d’ adunaton estin) to apprehend the future by human foresight (anthrȏpinȇn pronian ephikesthai tou mellontos), so as to foresee exactly in what way the attitude of the audience will turn concerning the length of the speeches. In extempore speeches it is in the power of the orator to manage his speech in correspondence with the ability of the audience, and make it shorter or longer to fit the occasion. (23)

When Alcidamas says that ‘it is difficult, and perhaps impossible to apprehend the future by human foresight’, he employs Isocrates’ main argument against the Phaedrus – ‘they pretend to search for truth (hoi prospoiountai men tȇn alȇtheian zȇtein), but straightway at the beginning of their professions (euthus d’en archȇi tȏn epangelmatȏn) are engaged in telling lies (pseudȇ legein epicheirousin)? For I think it is manifest to all (oimai gar hapasin einai phaneron) that foreknowledge of future events (hoti ta mellonta progignȏskein) is not vouchsafed to our human nature’ (ou tȇs hȇmeteras phuseȏs estin, Against the Sophists 1-2) – and turns it against him.

Next, Alcidamas emphasizes the ability of an extempore speaker to snatch thoughts from the opponents’ speech and incorporate them in his own speech; since he clarifies and explains the main thoughts with words that come to him on the spot, the incorporation of the thoughts of an opponent won’t disrupt his speech and make it uneven. (24) But those who contend with written speeches, if they are given a thought they do not have in their written text, they find it difficult to incorporate it harmoniously in their speech. The precision with which they were choosing their words when writing their speech does not allow the inclusion of words that come up on the spot. So they must either refrain from using thoughts that chance offers them on the occasion, or if they do use them, they make their exposition uneven and disrupted. (25) So who would engage in cultivating an art, which stands in the way of using and exploiting the good things that chance may offer? (26)

The next two paragraphs derive the main thoughts (enthumȇmata) from Socrates’ discussion of the contrast between the spoken and the written word in the Phaedrus. Socrates: ‘Writing has this strange feature (Deinon tout’ echei graphȇ), which makes it truly like painting (kai hȏs alȇthȏs homoion zȏgraphiai). For its offspring as well (kai gar ta ekeinȇs ekgona) stand there as if alive (hestȇke men hȏs zȏnta), but if you ask them something (ean d’ anerȇi ti), they maintain a most solemn silence (semnȏs panu sigai). It is the same with written speeches (t’auton de kai hoi logoi). You would think (doxais men an) that they talk as if they were thinking something (hȏs ti phronountas autous legein), but if you ask them about anything they say (ean de ti erȇi tȏn legomenȏn), from a desire to learn (boulomenos mathein), they say one and the same for ever (hen ti sȇmainei monon t’auton aei). (275d4-9) … and do we see another speech (allon horȏmen logon), that is brother to the written speech, but of unquestioned legitimacy (toutou adelphon gnȇsion), how it comes into being (tȏi tropȏi te gignetai), and how much better (kai hosȏi ameinȏn) and more powerful (kai dunatȏteros) it is than the other (toutou phuetai; 276a1-3)? … Phaedrus: ‘You mean speech of a man who knows (Ton tou eidotos logon legeis), speech that is living and has soul (zȏnta kai empsuchon), of which the written speech (hou ho gegrammenos) would rightly be called a kind of phantom (eidȏlon an ti legoito dikaiȏs, 276a8-9).’

Alcidamas says: ‘And I think (hȇgoumai d’) that it is not even right to call ‘speeches’ the written pieces (oude logous dikaion einai kaleisthai tous gegrammenous), but phantoms (all hȏsper eidȏla), and figurines (kai schȇmata), and imitations of speeches (kai mimȇmata logȏn). And the fairest opinion I would have about them is the same (kai tȇn autȇn kat’ autȏn eikotȏs an doxan echoimi) as about the bronze sculptures (hȇnper kai kata tȏn chalkȏn andriantȏn) and statues of stone (kai lithinȏn agalmatȏn) and painted living beings (kai gegrammenȏn zȏiȏn). For just as these (hȏsper gar tauta) are imitations of true bodies (mimȇmata tȏn alȇthinȏn sȏmatȏn esti), and it is pleasurable to see them (kai terpsin men epi tȇs theȏrias echei), but they are of no use in human life (chrȇsin d’ oudemian tȏi tȏn anthrȏpȏn biȏi paradidȏsi), it is the same with the written speech (ton auton tropon ho gegrammenos logos). (27) Being of one and the same form and arrangement (heni schȇmati kai taxei kechrȇmenos), seen in a book it may astound (ek bibliou men theȏroumenos echei tinas ekplȇxeis), but when opportune moments come (epi de tȏn kairȏn), being immobile (akinȇtos ȏn), it gives no advantage to its owners (oudemian ȏpheleian tois kektȇmenois paradidȏsin). And just as real bodies look much worse than beautiful statues (all’ hȏsper andriantȏn kalȏn alȇthina sȏmata polu cheirous tas theȏrias echonta) but when at work provide us with much greater profits (pollaplasious epi tȏn ergȏn tas ȏphelias paradidȏsin), so the speech spoken at the given moment from the mind itself (houtȏ kai logos ho men ap’ autȇs tȇs dianoias en tȏi parautika legomenos) has soul and is living (empsuchos esti kai zȇi) and follows the matter in hand (kai tois pragmasin hepetai) and resembles the real bodies (kai tois alȇthesin aphȏmoiȏtai sȏmasin), whereas the written one (ho de gegrammenos), in its nature a semblance of speech (eikoni logou tȇn phusin homoian echȏn), is bereft of all well-doing (hapasȇs euergesias amoiros kathestȇken). (28)

Having incorporated thoughts from the closing sections of the Phaedrus into his essay, Alcidamas pre-empts the criticism that he might incur: ‘Perhaps, someone might say (isȏs an oun eipoi tis) that it is absurd to disparage the power of writing (hȏs alogon esti katȇgorein men tȇs graphikȇs dunameȏs) when one appears to be displaying his talent by the means of it (auton de dia tautȇs tas epideixeis poioumenon), and to begin by inciting prejudice against the very occupation (kai prodiaballein tȇn pragmateian tautȇn) through which one is getting ready to become famous among the Greeks (di hȇs eudokimein paraskeuazetai para tois Hellȇsin), and when one devotes his time to philosophy (eti de peri philosophian diatribonta) to commend extempore speeches (tous autoschediastikous logous epainein), to consider chance more propitious than foresight (kai prourgiaiteron hȇgeisthai tȇn tuchȇn tȇs pronoias), and those who speak without plan or purpose to be wiser (kai phronimȏterous tous eikȇi legontas) than those who write with thorough preparation (tȏn meta paraskeuȇs graphontȏn).’ (29)

Isocrates incidentally corroborates the ancient dating of the Phaedrus as Plato’s first dialogue with his euthus d’en archȇi tȏn epangelmatȏn (‘straightway at the beginning of their professions)’, and so does Alcidamas with his prodiaballein (‘to begin by inciting prejudice’). Moreover, Alcidamas incidentally informs us that when he wrote his essay, Plato thanks to his writings had already become famous among the Greeks. And most importantly, while in the Phaedrus only the spoken word was seen as the proper tool of philosophy, Alcidamas suggests that Plato through his writings has made the written word its proper tool.

Finding it absurd to consider chance more propitious than foresight (prourgiaiteron hȇgeisthai tȇn tuchȇn tȇs pronoias) when one devotes his time to philosophy, Alcidamas presumably points to Socrates’ referring to his two speeches on love as a paradigm with the help of which he will elucidate the right way of constructing a speech: ‘By some chance (kata tuchȇn ge tina, the untranslatable ge emphasizes the chance), so it seems (hȏs eoiken), the two speeches that were spoken (errȇthȇtȇn tȏ logȏ) have in them an example (echonte ti to paradeima …, Phaedrus 262c10-d1).’

With the closing words in paragraph 29 Alcidamas points his finger at Plato’s Apology where Socrates proclaims: ‘From me you shall hear (humeis de mou akousesthe) … the words and arguments which occur to me at the moment (eikȇi legomena tois epituchousin onomasin, 17b8-c2).’ By the same token, Alcidamas’ reader would have been reminded of Isocrates’ identifying himself with Socrates from the Apology in his attack on contemporary philosophers. Isocrates: ‘they attempt to persuade young men (peirȏntai peithein tous neȏterous) that (hȏs) if they only study under them (ȇn autois plȇsiazȏsin) they will know what to do in life (ha te prakteon estin eisontai) and through this knowledge (kai dia tautȇs tȇs epistȇmȇs) will become happy and prosperous (eudaimones genȇsontai). More than that, although they set themselves up as masters and dispensers of goods so precious (kai tȇlikoutȏn agathȏn hautous didaskalous kai kurious katastȇsantes), they are not ashamed (ouk aischunontai) of asking for them a price of three or four minae (treis ȇ tettaras mnas huper toutȏn aitountes) … although they set so insignificant a price on the whole stock of virtue and happiness (sumpasan de tȇn aretȇn kai tȇn eudaimonian houtȏs oligou timȏntes), they pretend to wisdom (hȏs noun echontes) and assume the right to instruct the rest of the world (didaskaloi tȏn allȏn axiousi gignesthai).’ (Against the Sophists 3-4, translation G. Norlin) In his defence speech, pleading his ignorance, Socrates referred to a discussion he had with Callias: ‘“Is there anyone who understands human and political virtue (Tis tȇs aretȇs, tȇs anthrȏpinȇs kai politikȇs epistȇmȏn estin;)?” – Callias: “There is (Panu ge), Evenus the Parian (Euȇnos Parios), and his charge is five minae (pente mnȏn).” Happy is Evenus, I said to myself (kai ton euȇnon emakarisa), if he really has this wisdom (ei hȏs alȇthȏs echoi tautȇn tȇn technȇn), and teaches at such a moderate charge (kai houtȏs emmelȏs didaskei). Had I the same, I should have been very proud and conceited (egȏ men kai autos ekallunomȇn te kai hȇbrunomȇn an ei ȇpistamȇn tauta); but the truth is that I have no knowledge of the kind (all’ ou gar epistamai).’ (Pl. Ap. 20b4-c3, tr. B. Jowett)

Having given his voice to the radical disparagement of writing, and then distanced himself from it, Alcidamas says: Firstly, I said these words because I do not completely disapprove of writing, but consider it inferior to speaking extempore and think that one ought to bestow the greatest care on acquiring the ability to speak; secondly, I take recourse to writing not because it is my greatest pride, but in order to show those, who affect a great and solemn air on account of this capacity, that with little effort we (hoti mikra ponȇsantes – Alcidmas slips from first person singular to first person plural) can overshadow their written speeches and put them down. (30) Moreover, I engage in writing for the sake of exhibitions addressed to the crowds of people. For those who frequent our performances we urge to take our measure from our extempore speaking, when on any given theme we are capable to speak timely and artfully. But to those who come to hear me infrequently, and to those who never heard us before, we offer to perform some of our written speeches. For since they habitually listen to written speeches, they might have a lesser opinion of us than we deserve on account of our extempore speaking. (31) Apart from this, the written speeches most clearly indicate the marks of the progress of one’s mind. It is difficult to judge whether we give better extempore speeches than before, for it is difficult to remember the speeches that were said earlier, but by looking at the written speeches it is easy to observe the advances of one’s soul as in a mirror. And besides, we undertake to write so as to leave memorials of ourselves and to indulge our love of honour. (32) But when we esteem more the power of speeches given extempore than that of writing, we do not recommend speaking without plan or purpose (oud’ hȏs eikȇi legein parakeleuometha). We think that the orators ought to prepare the main thoughts and the arrangement of extempore speeches with foresight (tois men enthumȇmasi kai taxei meta pronoias hȇgoumetha chrȇsthai tous rȇtoras) and to leave the clarification by words to extempore speaking (peri de tȇn tȏn onomatȏn dȇlȏsin autoschediazein). The advantages conferred by the precision of the written speeches do not match the advantages that the timeliness of extempore clarifications accords. (33)

The last paragraph is a peroration presented as a question. Alcidamas asks: Who desires (hostis oun epithumei) to become a formidable orator (rȇtȏr genesthai deinos), but not a sufficient creator of speeches (alla mȇ poiȇtȇs logȏn hikanos), and wants more to use well the opportunities that arise (kai bouletai mallon tois kairois chrȇsthai kalȏs) than to speak words with precision (ȇ tois onomasi legein akribȏs), and is more eager to have the goodwill of the audience as his ally (kai tȇn eunoian tȏn akroȏmenȏn epikouron echein spoudazei mallon) than to have their envy as his adversary (ȇ ton phthonon antagȏnistȇn), and who wants to get a flexible mind, a resourceful memory, and forgetfulness that avoids detection (eti de kai tȇn gnȏmȇn euluton kai tȇn mnȇmȇn euporon kai tȇn lȇthȇn adȇlon kathestanai bouletai), and is eager to possess the power of speech that meets the exigencies of life (kai tȇi chreiai tou biou summetron tȇn dunamin tȏn logȏn kektȇsthai prothumos estin), wouldn’t he, reasonably, always and on every opportunity exercise himself in cultivating extempore speaking (ouk eikotȏs an tou men autoschediazein aei te kai dia pantos energon tȇn meletȇn poioito), and taking recourse to writing by way of pastime and as a by-work (tou de graphein en paidiai kai parergȏi epimelpomenos) – wouldn’t men of reason judge him to be reasonable (eu phronein kritheiȇ para tois eu phronousin;)?

Alcidamas began his essay by echoing Socrates’ censure of writers who ascribe permanence (bebaiotȇta) to their writings. He ended it by recalling a passage in which Socrates elucidates the contrast between the written and the spoken words by comparing them to seeds: ‘If a sensible farmer had some seeds to look after and wanted them to bear fruit, would he with serious intent plant them during the summer in a garden of Adonis [‘A pot or window-box for forcing plants at the festival of Adonis’, remarks Hackforth], and enjoy watching it producing fine fruit within eight days? If he did it at all, wouldn’t it be in holiday spirit, jus by way of pastime (paidias te kai heortȇs charin)? For serious purposes wouldn’t he behave like a scientific farmer, sow his seeds in suitable soil, and be well content if they came to maturity within eight months? … And are we to maintain that he who has knowledge of what is just, honourable and good has less sense than the farmer in dealing with his seeds? … Then it won’t be with serious intent that he writes them in water [‘A proverbial phrase for useless labour’ notes Hackforth] or that black fluid called ink … He will sow his seeds in literary gardens, I take it, and write when he does write by way of pastime (alla tous men en grammasi kȇpous, hȏs eoike, paidias charin sperei te kai grapsei).’ (276b1-d2 translation R. Hackforth)