aristotle - rhetoric-86.txt

(382 KB) Pobierz
                                     350 BC

                                    RHETORIC

                                  by Aristotle

                         translated by W. Rhys Roberts

                              Book I

                                 1

  RHETORIC the counterpart of Dialectic. Both alike are concerned with
such things as come, more or less, within the general ken of all men
and belong to no definite science. Accordingly all men make use,
more or less, of both; for to a certain extent all men attempt to
discuss statements and to maintain them, to defend themselves and to
attack others. Ordinary people do this either at random or through
practice and from acquired habit. Both ways being possible, the
subject can plainly be handled systematically, for it is possible to
inquire the reason why some speakers succeed through practice and
others spontaneously; and every one will at once agree that such an
inquiry is the function of an art.

  Now, the framers of the current treatises on rhetoric have
constructed but a small portion of that art. The modes of persuasion
are the only true constituents of the art: everything else is merely
accessory. These writers, however, say nothing about enthymemes, which
are the substance of rhetorical persuasion, but deal mainly with
non-essentials. The arousing of prejudice, pity, anger, and similar
emotions has nothing to do with the essential facts, but is merely a
personal appeal to the man who is judging the case. Consequently if
the rules for trials which are now laid down some states-especially in
well-governed states-were applied everywhere, such people would have
nothing to say. All men, no doubt, think that the laws should
prescribe such rules, but some, as in the court of Areopagus, give
practical effect to their thoughts and forbid talk about
non-essentials. This is sound law and custom. It is not right to
pervert the judge by moving him to anger or envy or pity-one might
as well warp a carpenter's rule before using it. Again, a litigant has
clearly nothing to do but to show that the alleged fact is so or is
not so, that it has or has not happened. As to whether a thing is
important or unimportant, just or unjust, the judge must surely refuse
to take his instructions from the litigants: he must decide for
himself all such points as the law-giver has not already defined for
him.

  Now, it is of great moment that well-drawn laws should themselves
define all the points they possibly can and leave as few as may be
to the decision of the judges; and this for several reasons. First, to
find one man, or a few men, who are sensible persons and capable of
legislating and administering justice is easier than to find a large
number. Next, laws are made after long consideration, whereas
decisions in the courts are given at short notice, which makes it hard
for those who try the case to satisfy the claims of justice and
expediency. The weightiest reason of all is that the decision of the
lawgiver is not particular but prospective and general, whereas
members of the assembly and the jury find it their duty to decide on
definite cases brought before them. They will often have allowed
themselves to be so much influenced by feelings of friendship or
hatred or self-interest that they lose any clear vision of the truth
and have their judgement obscured by considerations of personal
pleasure or pain. In general, then, the judge should, we say, be
allowed to decide as few things as possible. But questions as to
whether something has happened or has not happened, will be or will
not be, is or is not, must of necessity be left to the judge, since
the lawgiver cannot foresee them. If this is so, it is evident that
any one who lays down rules about other matters, such as what must
be the contents of the 'introduction' or the 'narration' or any of the
other divisions of a speech, is theorizing about non-essentials as
if they belonged to the art. The only question with which these
writers here deal is how to put the judge into a given frame of
mind. About the orator's proper modes of persuasion they have
nothing to tell us; nothing, that is, about how to gain skill in
enthymemes.

  Hence it comes that, although the same systematic principles apply
to political as to forensic oratory, and although the former is a
nobler business, and fitter for a citizen, than that which concerns
the relations of private individuals, these authors say nothing
about political oratory, but try, one and all, to write treatises on
the way to plead in court. The reason for this is that in political
oratory there is less inducement to talk about nonessentials.
Political oratory is less given to unscrupulous practices than
forensic, because it treats of wider issues. In a political debate the
man who is forming a judgement is making a decision about his own
vital interests. There is no need, therefore, to prove anything except
that the facts are what the supporter of a measure maintains they are.
In forensic oratory this is not enough; to conciliate the listener
is what pays here. It is other people's affairs that are to be
decided, so that the judges, intent on their own satisfaction and
listening with partiality, surrender themselves to the disputants
instead of judging between them. Hence in many places, as we have said
already, irrelevant speaking is forbidden in the law-courts: in the
public assembly those who have to form a judgement are themselves well
able to guard against that.

  It is clear, then, that rhetorical study, in its strict sense, is
concerned with the modes of persuasion. Persuasion is clearly a sort
of demonstration, since we are most fully persuaded when we consider a
thing to have been demonstrated. The orator's demonstration is an
enthymeme, and this is, in general, the most effective of the modes of
persuasion. The enthymeme is a sort of syllogism, and the
consideration of syllogisms of all kinds, without distinction, is
the business of dialectic, either of dialectic as a whole or of one of
its branches. It follows plainly, therefore, that he who is best
able to see how and from what elements a syllogism is produced will
also be best skilled in the enthymeme, when he has further learnt what
its subject-matter is and in what respects it differs from the
syllogism of strict logic. The true and the approximately true are
apprehended by the same faculty; it may also be noted that men have
a sufficient natural instinct for what is true, and usually do
arrive at the truth. Hence the man who makes a good guess at truth
is likely to make a good guess at probabilities.

  It has now been shown that the ordinary writers on rhetoric treat of
non-essentials; it has also been shown why they have inclined more
towards the forensic branch of oratory.

  Rhetoric is useful (1) because things that are true and things
that are just have a natural tendency to prevail over their opposites,
so that if the decisions of judges are not what they ought to be,
the defeat must be due to the speakers themselves, and they must be
blamed accordingly. Moreover, (2) before some audiences not even the
possession of the exactest knowledge will make it easy for what we say
to produce conviction. For argument based on knowledge implies
instruction, and there are people whom one cannot instruct. Here,
then, we must use, as our modes of persuasion and argument, notions
possessed by everybody, as we observed in the Topics when dealing with
the way to handle a popular audience. Further, (3) we must be able
to employ persuasion, just as strict reasoning can be employed, on
opposite sides of a question, not in order that we may in practice
employ it in both ways (for we must not make people believe what is
wrong), but in order that we may see clearly what the facts are, and
that, if another man argues unfairly, we on our part may be able to
confute him. No other of the arts draws opposite conclusions:
dialectic and rhetoric alone do this. Both these arts draw opposite
conclusions impartially. Nevertheless, the underlying facts do not
lend themselves equally well to the contrary views. No; things that
are true and things that are better are, by their nature,
practically always easier to prove and easier to believe in. Again,
(4) it is absurd to hold that a man ought to be ashamed of being
unable to defend himself with his limbs, but not of being unable to
defend himself with speech and reason, when the use of rational speech
is more distinctive of a human being than the use of his limbs. And if
it be objected that one who uses such power of speech unjustly might
do great harm, that is a charge which may be made in common against
all good things except virtue, and above all against the things that
are most useful, as strength, health, wealth, generalship. A man can
confer the greatest of benefits by a right use of these, and inflict
the greatest of injuries by using them wrongly.

  It is clear, then, that rhetoric is not bound up with a single
definite class of subjects, but is as universal as dialectic; it is
clear, also, that it is useful. It is clear, further, that its
function is not simply to succeed in persuading, but rather to
discover the means of coming as near such success as the circumstances
of each particular case allow. In this it resembles all other arts.
For example, it is not the function of medicine simply to make a man
quite healthy, but to put him as far as may be on the road to
health; it is possible to give excellent treatment even to those who
can never enjoy sound health. Furthermore, it is plain that it is
the function of one and the same art to discern the real and the
apparent means of persuasion, just as it is the function of
dialectic to discern the real and the apparent syllogism. What makes a
man...
Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin