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)
