THE TRANSITION OF TECHNICAL TERMINOLOGY IN PAGAN AND
CHRISTIAN RHETORIC
A Thesis
Presented to the faculty of the Department of Communication Studies
California State University, Sacramento
Submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of
MASTER OF ARTS
in
Communication Studies
by
Nathan P. D. Thompson
Spring 2014
© 2014
Nathan P. D. Thompson
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ii
THE TRANSITION OF TECHNICAL TERMINOLOGY IN PAGAN AND
CHRISTIAN RHETORIC
A Thesis
by
Nathan P. D. Thompson
Approved by:
, Committee Chair Dr. Mark A. Williams
, Second Reader Dr. Christine Miller
, Third Reader Dr. Nicholas Burnett
Date
iii
Student: Nathan P. D. Thompson
I certify that this student has met the requirements for format contained in the University format manual, and that this thesis is suitable for shelving in the Library and credit is to be awarded for the thesis.
, Graduate Coordinator Dr. Sean D. Zuckerman Date
Department of Communication Studies
iv
Abstract
of
THE TRANSITION OF TECHNICAL TERMINOLOGY IN PAGAN AND
CHRISTIAN RHETORIC
by
Nathan P. D. Thompson
This thesis employs a close textual analysis to trace the rhetorical evolution of obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio from Pagan to Christian stylistic principles. Every occurrence of these technically charged rhetorical terms was examined in books eight and ten of
Quintilian’s de Institutio Oratoria and book four of Augustine’s de Doctrina Christiana.
Through a close reading of these texts, it was discovered that Augustine adapted all three terms as part of the new Christian culture. Furthermore, these adaptations were largely caused by the Christianized redefinition of virtus. As a result of this thesis, we now better understand certain aspects of a critical point in rhetorical history as the art of rhetoric transitioned from Pagan to Christian use.
, Committee Chair Dr. Mark A. Williams
Date v
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To Dr. Mark Williams:
Alii magistrii docent ut ei se loquor audient;
alii magistrii docent ut alteri se loquor audient;
nemo pro pecunia docet.
Alii autem magistrii pro amore sapientiae docent
et hanc sapientiam cum suis discipulis communicare volunt.
Ego fortunatus sum quod tu proximum exemplum es
quod optimum exemplum est.
Ante te ego sententiam scivi "in vino veritas"
sed tu me docuisti "in sapienta vita."
Ego pecuniam tibi reddere non teneo;
ego bona tibi reddere non teneo; ego
paene nihil tibi reddere non teneo
praeter haec verba:
ad suasorem, ad magistrum, ad amicum...
Gratias ago tibi.
vi
Also, my sincerest thanks to Dr. Nicholas Burnett and Dr. Christine Miller for agreeing to read, edit, and challenge this thesis. I have been told it is difficult to find and organize committees but thanks to your remarkable flexibility and patience, I do not know these difficulties first hand. Furthermore, I cannot thank you enough for your valuable insight which pointed me in directions that I would have altogether missed and saved me from producing a lesser project. My only regret is that our time together was so limited and I hope your students know how lucky they are to learn from you! Though my gratitude exceeds my eloquence, I would like you both to know that I truly could not have succeeded without your help. Thank you.
Finally, thank you to my family, friends, and ma belle. Mom and Dad, thank you for your relentless support. Brothers, thank you for your infinite encouragement. Jack, thank you for always being there no matter how hectic life gets. May the JackThan live. Ma Belle, thank you for your love and patience throughout this entire process. Je t’aime.
vii
TABLE OF CONTENTS Page
Acknowledgements ...... vi
List of Tables ...... xi
Chapter
1. Technical Vocabulary ...... 1
I. Technical Vocabulary...... 2
I.a Technical Vocabulary in Modern Scholarship ...... 2
I.b Technical Vocabulary in the Classical World ...... 8
II. The Literary Criticism of Photius ...... 14
III. Saint Augustine and de Doctrina Christiana...... 17
IV. Quintilian ...... 19
IV.a Quintilian and de Institutio Oratoria ...... 19
IV.b Quintilian Representing Pagan Rhetoric ...... 21
V. Methodology ...... 23
2. Obscuritas ...... 26
I. Quintilian on Obscuritas ...... 26
I.a Six Causes of Obscuritas ...... 30
II.b Quintilian on Ambiguitas ...... 36
II. Augustine on Obscuritas...... 41
III. Revisiting Augustine’s “Rejection” of Quintilianic Principles ...... 48
III.a Considering Time ...... 52
viii
III.b. Considering Audience...... 53
III.c Considering Subject Matter...... 54
III.d Quintilian and Augustine in Context ...... 57
IV. Conclusion ...... 61
3. Gravitas ...... 63
I. Gravitas in Roman Antiquity ...... 64
II. Gravitas in Quintilian...... 67
III. Augustine and Gravitas...... 76
IV. Conclusion ...... 88
4. Imitatio ...... 91
I. Quintilian and Imitatio ...... 98
I.a Imitation Insufficient ...... 99
I.b Who Should Be Imitated ...... 103
I.c Limitations of Imitatio ...... 106
I.d Quintilian’s Concluding Remarks on Imitatio...... 107
II. Augustine and Imitatio...... 109
II.a Contextualizing Imitatio in Augustine ...... 110
II.b Who the Christian Orator Should Imitate ...... 115
III. Conclusions...... 121
5. Conclusion ...... 127
I. Research Question One ...... 127
ix
II. Research Question Two ...... 133
III. Limitations and Future Research ...... 141
Work Cited...... 145
x
LIST OF TABLES Tables Page
1. Obscuritas, -atis in books eight and ten of de Institutio Oratoria .………… 26
2. Obscuritas, -atis in book four of de Doctrina Christiana……………………41
3. Gravitas, -atis in book eight and ten, de Instituto Oratioria…………………68
4. Gravitas, -atis in book four of de Doctrina Christiana ……………………...77
5. Imitatio, -onis in books eight and ten of de Institutio Oratoria ……..………93
6. Imitatio, -onis in book four of de Doctrina Christiana……..………………113
xi 1
Chapter One: Technical Vocabulary
During the second C.E. a prominent Greek scholar, Hermogenes of Tarsus, outlined systematic categories of eloquence in his work On Types of Style, which would go on to influence rhetoricians for centuries to come. One example of this influence was on Photius, the ninth century Patriarch of Constantinople in the Byzantine East, who drew from Hermogenes’ work and adapted style to fit the needs of the church. In other words,
Hermogenes had classified types of style to be used in “Pagan” rhetoric and Photius modified the former’s system to function in Christian rhetoric. Recognizing this process,
George L. Kustas illustrated the “Christianization of style” by examining the Greek works of both Hermogenes and Photius. More than finding conceptual parallels within the texts,
Kustas found that the same technical vocabulary was used by both authors but with an interesting difference: the meaning of identical terms had changed. Thus, the way “style” itself was conceived changed as well. The discovery of this phenomenon in Greek texts should arouse the interest of rhetorical scholars because it begs an interesting question: might we find a similar development with rhetorical terminology and concepts to have taken place in Latin rhetoricians of Late Antiquity? Thus, the objective for this thesis is to ask what evidence there is to suggest a “Christianization of style” occurred in the Latin
West.
If we wish to make such an inquiry, however, we will need to accomplish several tasks. It will be necessary to contextualize what we mean by “technical terms” and how they operate in modern scholarship. Then, we will look at how technical terms function in classical texts. This will bring us to a brief discussion on how the Christianization of style 2
took place in the Byzantine Greek texts mentioned above (as demonstrated by Kustas).
After outlining Kustas’ research, it will then be possible to determine whether a similar phenomenon occurred in the Latin portion of the Roman Empire. Thus, we will trace how style was viewed in Pagan rhetoric according to Quintilian, the first century C.E. professor of rhetoric, in his text de Institutio Oratoria. This thesis will use Donald A.
Russell’s text and translation of de Institutio Oratoria, though any translations that differ from Russell are original. Next, we will examine St. Augustine’s framework for how style is to be applied by the Christian orator as found in de Doctrina Christiana. This thesis will use R. P. H. Green’s text and translation of de Doctrina Christiana, though any translations that differ from Green are original. Then, we will focus on the terminology used by both authors regarding “eloquence,” specifically noting any similarities and differences in context. Finally, we will draw meaningful conclusions based on the findings of this study.
I. Technical Vocabulary
I.a Technical Vocabulary in Modern Scholarship
Words are continuously employed in various contexts that will, if only slightly, change their meaning. Comedian Demetri Martin humorously demonstrated this when he stated that “saying ‘I am sorry’ is the exact same as saying ‘I apologize’… Unless you are at a funeral.” Words have the ability to change their meaning with context. Rizzo and
Pérez explain an example of this phenomenon in their treatment of the word “bank,” a term that contains two primary definitions. The authors challenge the reader to “consider
‘bank’ [as either a] sloping raised land, especially along the sides of a river, [or] ‘bank’ 3
[as an] organization for investing, keeping, borrowing, etc. money” (108). The authors are providing an example in which one word may carry two vastly different meanings. If given in context, however, many readers would know which “bank” is being referenced.
A more widely used example of this may be observed in the English word “love” which may be used in many ways to describe a variety of emotions. One may say “I love you” to a spouse romantically, to a friend platonically, or one may even say “I love this” referring to food that particularly pleases the senses. Thus, in the same dinner conversation the word “love” may shift from describing the deepest human emotions to the superficial appreciation of a meal. The context will imply which definition is being employed, but there may still be little clarity in the degree to which this “love” is actually felt. Kilgarrif sums up the vagueness of vocabulary when he states, “There is no decisive way to identifying where one sense of a word ends and the next begins” (43). Due to these unclear boundaries, there is often an urge to develop technical vocabulary with more precise definitions.
In some cases, technical terms have been given concise and fixed definitions to elude confusion. One of the most extreme examples of this was created by the European
Association of Aerospace Manufacturers when they created AECMA Simplified English
(AECMA SE). Since English has become the international language in business (coupled with the fact that English is one of the hardest for foreign speakers to learn), there arose a need for words to carry just one lexical definition. Thus, in AECMA’s training manual
Mike Unwalla suggests that words should only have one use:
In English, one word is often used in different ways. For example, the word oil can be used both as a noun and as a verb. “The oil is 4
contaminated.” “Oil the bearings liberally.” For each word, AECMA SE specifies how you can use the word. For example, you are allowed to use the word oil as a noun, but you are not allowed to use it as a verb (1-2).
The goal for AECMA’s project was to create an English-based language where each word has been stripped down to one meaning. As stated above, however, this is one of the most extreme examples of applied technical vocabulary. More often specialized terms are used for precision in specific fields while continuing to operate in general language. Scholars often refer to this kind of discipline specific vocabulary as “Academic Language”
(Baumann and Graves 5). Ironically, however, “Academic Language” is not something easily defined itself.
In their article, “The Challenge of Academic Language” Snow & Uccelli state that
“there is no simple definition of what academic language is” (112). As a result, many scholars have developed various constructs for how academic language should be broken up. Further, the research of Baumann and Graves clarifies two categories into which researchers typically divide academic vocabulary: domain specific and general (6-7).
General academic vocabulary refers to the “lexical items [that] occur frequently and uniformly across a wide range of academic material” (Coxhead 218). In contrast, domain specific academic vocabulary (DSAV) refers to the specialized terminology or “content specific words used in disciplines like biology, geometry, civics, and geography.”
(Baumann and Graves 6). DSAV includes terms found specifically in some disciplines and not in others such as central tendency, mean, median, mode, range and standard deviation (Marzanno and Pickering 1). To many native English speakers, this would appear as common sense. However, learning DSAV is complicated when working with a 5
foreign language. Because this thesis will be focusing on technical vocabulary in Latin, it is worth noting the process through which DSAV is learned in foreign languages.
Paul Nation found that a large part of comprehending a text requires a grasp on the vocabulary used (6). This finding was later supported empirically by Norbert Schmitt
(354). Csomay and Petrovic elaborate these findings when they suggest that, “a good understanding of a text requires 98% of coverage for reading (i.e. not knowing one in every 50 words in a text), and 95% for listening (i.e. not knowing one in every 20 words in a text). Hence, learning vocabulary is an essential part of learning a foreign language…” (306). One may expand their vocabulary in a foreign language through one of two approaches: explicit and implicit learning. Explicit learning refers to a resource overtly showing a person what a word means. For example, explicit learning takes place when a student formally enrolls in a language course or hires a private tutor to clarify what words mean and how they function in a sentence. In fact, even looking up the lexical definition of a word constitutes explicit learning since the resource of a dictionary acts as a type of teacher. Implicit learning (or incidental learning) is more complex, however, as it is derived by reading or listening to common language use (Nation 232). This type of learning happens on the subconscious level and as a result of context. Implicit learning falls “in line with other immersion models of learning, the more frequent the exposure or the more frequent the encounters are to the words in the context, the greater the chances are for learning to take place” (Csomay & Petrovic 307). Thus, implicit learning is largely contextual. It is important to hold the distinction between explicit and implicit learning in mind as we will later analyze key terms in Latin from both a lexical and a contextual 6
standpoint. For the moment, we will now turn our attention to modern research on technical vocabulary as it is used in two specific fields: law and religion.
Peter Tiersma’s definition of technical vocabulary follows closely with Baumann and Graves’ explanation of DVAS in that technical terms must refer to a term that is unique to a particular profession or discipline. In other words, specialized statistical terms will deal with statistics; specialized mathematical terms will deal with mathematics; specialized religious terms will deal with religion; and, as argued by Tiersma, “the legal profession focuses intensely on the words that constitute law” (1). Legal jargon is an illuminating example of technical vocabulary because it has a habit of taking ordinary words and changing their meaning to derive unique vocabulary. Tiersma demonstrates this with two examples. In law, brief is a term that “in the language of law is a noun referring to a type of legal document, not an adjective” while party refers to “someone who is part of a lawsuit (often a single person or entity)” (111). The legal system appears to have taken words from the general vocabulary and specialized the meaning. Mihaela
Cozma has also recognized this phenomenon and found an interesting problem. When working with legal vocabulary, “the degree of precision presented by a word in this category may vary from one language to another” (2). Consider the example provided by
Cozma:
A good example in this respect is the English opinion, which has very high frequency in common vocabulary, but which, in context of the documents under analysis, is characterized by a restricted and specific meaning. The Romanian translation, on the other hand, i.e. aviz, although used as a common word too, is, however, more frequently associated with the specialized language of the legal-administrative field than its English counterpart (62-63). 7
Cozma encourages legal translators to clarify the ambiguous nature of the textual translations not by looking at a term’s lexical meaning, but rather by observing the word’s contextual use. Thus, scholarship has identified that words must not be translated strictly by their face value but rather in the context they are employed. As a result of this research, scholars have also been able to provide solutions to practical problems in the legal world. Further, modern scholarship has examined technical vocabulary in other fields such as religion.
Specialized vocabulary in religion has prompted fascinating research. Among the most intriguing articles, Erik Zurcher analyzed the legal documentation written after the
Ottoman Empire’s defeat in World War I between 1918-1920. By looking at the contextual use of the vocabulary used in these legal documents, Zurcher argued that the resistance movement by the Ottomans held a political identity that was “defined primarily in religious terms” (90). The most interesting finding, however, is that after the Republic of Turkey was officially established in 1923, the legal writings contained vocabulary that
“changed accordingly, and even where the vocabulary had stayed the same, the meaning changed…” (81). Zurcher was able to trace a cultural movement with clear religious undertones to an established political organization which altered the meaning of the vocabulary to do away with the “Islamic element that was so characteristic of the early phase of the resistance…” (90). Singh & Thuraisingam are two other authors who have been able to use technical vocabulary to trace cultural movements dealing with religion.
What these scholars attempted to find was how language had changed within the church to adapt to a postmodern culture. Singh & Thuraisinam accomplished this by looking at 8
the vocabulary used in various sermons and found that many have expanded religious language to meet the needs of a postmodern audience.
Although sacred words such as ‘Holy Spirit,’ ‘divine decree,’ ‘sin,’ ‘salvations,’ ‘evil,’ ‘heaven,’ ‘servant,’ ‘Kingdom of God,’ ‘all is the creator,’ ‘fire of hell,’ ‘angels,’ ‘enlightenment,’ ‘love your enemies,’ etc. are still used in many of the sermons, words that acknowledge the growing secular perceptions of the intended audience are also abundant (10).
Again, it was only by looking at the specific vocabulary used by religious leaders that the authors were able to speculate how modern religion adapts their messages to a postmodern audience. Clearly, vocabulary studies are a fruitful venture for scholars interested in how specialized words communicate various ideas. It is surprising that more rhetoricians have not given attention to specific types of vocabulary within specific texts, though there are some exceptions as we will see.
Thus far, we have seen a few examples of scholarship that focuses on modern uses of technical vocabulary. Now, we will turn out attention to research that explores
Classical languages, specifically Classical Greek and Latin.
I.b Technical Vocabulary in the Classical World
There is an abundance of scholarship that focuses on technical vocabulary used in the classical world which has allowed scholars not only to read ancient texts, but understand the animus of the author. For example, in his article, “Eidos/idea in Isocrates,”
Robert Sullivan demonstrates two instances where confusion arises from technical vocabulary. First, Sullivan argues that modern scholarship categorizes Isocrates as either a rhetorician or a philosopher in stating that Isocrates is “situated at the boundary between what we conceive as technical rhetoric and professional philosophy” (79). This 9
dichotomous classification arose, argues Sullivan, from Isocrates’ own description of his school being a philosophia. Alexander Nehamas contends that Isocrates used the term philosophia in reference to “the ability to speak well, which in turn reflects and is the product of thinking well and shrewdly about practical affairs” (4). This definition, though, has both rhetorical and philosophical elements to it. Thus, how one reads the term philosophia will determine the way one views Isocrates. A rhetorician may contend that the Isocratean school was teaching “the ability to speak well” about “practical affairs” and, therefore, Isocrates must have been a rhetorician; on the other hand, the philosopher may reasonably argue that Isocrates used speech as a tool for reflection in order to
“[think] well and shrewdly.” The focus on reflection and thought would make Isocrates a philosopher. While Isocrates probably falls somewhere in between, it is clear that how you view him will in part be a result of how you understand the term philosophia.
The second issue forwarded by Sullivan is Isocrates’ use of the Greek term eidos in conjunction with its synonym idea. As Sullivan states, “Though it has long been understood that the word idea is an important term in the Isocratean rhetorical vocabulary, there remains widespread disagreement on its meaning. Systematic studies of the term have yielded greatly varying results” (80). Through a close reading of nineteen uses of the word idea and four uses of the synonym eidos, Sullivan argues that Isocrates always uses these terms in “reference to quantities of speech composition, either to generic indicators or to units of composition” (90). Therefore, Isocrates should be read as the more practical rhetorician. By contextualizing the use of just one technical term, the lens through which we view the author may change drastically. To make matters more complex, technical 10
vocabulary has never been limited to the use of one author in vacuum and often the definitions vary from one writer to the next.
It is not uncommon for two or more ancient scholars to attribute different meanings to the same technical term. In fact this is frequently found when studying vocabulary in the ancient world because the same word would be used centuries apart. For instance,
Manfred Kraus compares the meaning of identical Greek vocabulary as found in
Aristotle’s Rhetoric and in Rhetoric to Alexander. Kraus argues, “We find both authors speaking about ἐ νθυµἡ µατα, παραδἱ γµατα, εἰ χóς, σηµεῖ α, τεχµήρια, γνῶµαι, and
ἔ λεγχοι; hence at a glance it may appear to the perfunctory reader that they also refer to the same types of argument. Yet in reality they use the majority of those terms in clearly differing uses” (264). Kraus maintains that what looks like a similar approach to persuasion in two texts actually turns out to be quite different. These differences were only illuminated through reading how the same words functioned contextually. Had the meaning of the vocabulary been dismissed, readers would still be misunderstanding two vastly different approaches to persuasion as one conflated system. Clearly, context needs to play a vital role when translating not just the words, but the ideas of ancient authors.
Now that we have identified a few studies that have examined how studying technical Greek vocabulary may expand our knowledge of Greek authors, let us turn our attention to research with the Latin language.
Latin suffers from the same ambiguity as Classical Greek in modern translation.
One reason for this may be attributed to the sheer amount of authors who have written in
Latin. Thus, in modern English we are left with the common lexical definitions that do not 11
necessarily look at the time or context in which the word was written. In order to demonstrate how one Latin word may begin with a seemingly simple definition and snowball into a plethora of interpretations, let us examine the complexity in translating the most common word in the Latin language.
According to Essential Latin Vocabulary by Mark Williams, the most commonly used word in Latin is a pronoun: qui, quae, quod (106). John Taylor provides a definition in his book “Latin Beyond the GCSE” as “who, which; which?” (249). This means that in its simplest lexical form, the common pronoun will have three different definitions depending upon its use and context in a sentence. Expanding on this, however, the Oxford
Latin Mini Dictionary defines the term as “who, which, that; which? any” (211). Thus, we have now expanded our three definitions to five. Finally, we may turn to the definition from the Perseus Digital Library, edited by Gregory Crane, an extensive online encyclopedia of Latin vocabulary that gives various meanings depending on the author.
After searching the pronoun qui, we find that it has many more definitions than we have seen in our previous sources. In fact, it has three different uses in a sentence as it may be used interrogatively, as part of a relative clause, or as an indefinite pronoun. Then, under these three categories, there are seven sub-headings that define how and when it may be used. Furthermore, after these seven sub-headings are thirteen various examples of how the meaning of the pronoun may be changed slightly in combination with other Latin terms. Thus, we have come a long way from the simplest lexical definition of “who, which; what?” that was found in Taylor. Nonetheless, it is not uncommon to see qui translated in a restricted form. Further, there are instances where a term may mean 12
something lexically but carries certain social implications that are key in understanding more about the author.
One scholar who has been conducting research in this area is Eleanor Dickey. In her article “How to Say ‘Please’ in Latin,” Dickey examined the different ways classical authors would make polite requests. The results showed that, in the first century C.E., there were many terms equivalent to the modern English word please but they need to be contextually identified. Professor Dickey states:
Quaeso was elegant and belonged to a high register so that many Romans refrained from using it in letters, while rogo was a new term with growing popularity in the lower registers. A writer like Cicero who used a variety of terms in his letters would distinguish between them by the magnitude of the requests to which they were attached: there was a hierarchy in which velim, quaeso, rogo and peto were deployed in ascending order of the magnitude of the request (747-748).
Professor Dickey’s research is invaluable to more thorough understanding of these
Classical texts. By noting the subtle meanings carried by certain terms, one may understand the author more fully. If, on the other hand, one translated “quaeso” and
“rogo” identically—which they are, lexically speaking—one would have no better understanding of a text than could be gained from GoogleTranslate. The point of precise translations is not merely to understand the what of the message, but also to reveal how the message functions.
Another author who recognizes the importance of subtlety in technical terminology is Gerald A. Press. In his article, “Doctrina in Augustine’s De doctrina christiana” Press analyzes Augustine’s use of the term “doctrina” and argues that in classical Latin, the technical term had a variety of different meanings. The most common 13
translation for “De Doctrina Christiana” is “On the Christian Teaching.” However, Press maintains that this one term actually has four meanings, all of which are related to one another. The first meaning comes from the Latin verb doceo, to teach. Branching out from this, the second meaning is focused on the content of what is taught (science, philosophy, rhetoric etc.). The third meaning becomes more specific than the second and refers not only to the content of the arts, but to the arts themselves. Finally, the fourth meaning encompasses all of the previous ones and carries within it the idea of learning, education, or knowledge (101-102). Thus, the term doctrina may be translated as teaching or as learning. In English, these two terms are often identified as opposites (the professor teaches and the student learns); however in Latin, as Press argues, the two are interconnected. In fact, we may see the same in modern Romantic languages such as
French. The verb “apprendre” means both to teach and to learn. This leads to the common mistake made by French speakers learning English as they will often say, “You learned me something” rather than “You taught me something.” Press argues that “doctrina has a range of logically related meanings, of which the most general and inclusive is learning as a cultural ideal, and that Augustine, an accomplished rhetorician, deliberately and artfully uses that variety of meanings in order, at once, to refute the Pagan ideal and construct a
Christian version of it” (99). Thus, we may see a different side of Augustine through the playfulness of writing a book that means both “On the Christian Teaching” and “On the
Christian Education.”
In the previous sections, we have examined three areas of research surrounding technical vocabulary. First, we have looked at research discussing technical vocabulary in 14
modern fields such as law and religion. Second, we have looked at scholarship that has explored technical vocabulary in Classical Greek. Third, we examined research that demonstrates the contextual subtleties in the Latin language. We may now turn to the work of George L. Kustas, who discusses how identical terms were placed in a different context to make a Pagan’s rhetorical style function within the Christian church.
II. The Literary Criticism of Photius
In 1962, George Kustas wrote an article entitled “The Literary Criticism of
Photius” which argues that the stylistic principles of Hermogenes of Tarsus had been used by Photius, the ninth century C.E. archbishop of Constantinople, in his vast work of criticism known as the Bibliotheca. Kustas does not suggest that Photius held an identical stylistic system to Hermogenes, but rather that Photius was able to reshape Hermogenic principles into a tool for critiquing literature from a Christian perspective. Kustas suggests that Photius pulls from Hermogenes in two ways: first, in the “stylistic theory, or the underlying presuppositions conditioning [Photius’] general approach to stylistic questions, and second, the individual tools of stylistic definition inherited from Hellenistic times”
(134). In other words, much like a mechanic pulls parts from a used car to build a new one, Photius takes certain rhetorical tools and ideas from the Hermogenic system and
“injects into the ossified rhetorical tradition a welcome freshness distilled from the new spirit of ninth century Byzantine Christianity” (135). The task then, for Kustas, becomes one of demonstrating what pieces were taken and how they were “injected into” the
Christian religion. 15
Analyzing Photius’ comprehensive work Bibliothecha, Kustas is able to trace
Hermogenic influences through the specific terminology employed by the archbishop as he critiques various literature:
Now, Photius’ terminology of literary criticism, as we have noted, borrows much from Hermogenes. Hence it is significant that the patriarch culls from the Hermogenic list and stresses only those literary qualities which enjoy a common denominator with his conception of Christian ethical conduct and philosophy (144-145).
Photius takes from Hermogenic principles and adjusts them to coincide with Christian ideals. For example, Hermogenes had divided style into seven categories: clarity
(sapheneia), grandeur (megethos), beauty (kallos), rapidity (gorgotes), character (ethos), sincerity (aletheia), and force (deinotes). Further, each category had subdivisions. The total list exemplified clarity, purity, limpidity, nobility and magnitude, dignity, brilliance, beauty, vigor, character, artlessness and pleasantness. The ideal orator, however, would achieve deinotes (forcefulness) only through the proper mixture, or crasis, of all the categories. Kustas demonstrates that Photius “could not accept the absolutistic principle which deinotes implied, but he could and does have in common with Hermogenes the ancient theory that the key to literary success lies in crasis, the harmonious blending of certain clearly defined modes of expression” (145). Through a close reading of Photius’
Bibliotecha, Kustas discovers that the Hermogenic list becomes “1) clarity, 2) elevation,
3) dignity, 4) brilliance, 5) beauty, 6) vigor, 7) character, and 8) pleasantness” (155).
Photius also outlines these specific qualities when he critiques the style of St. Paul. The characteristics of style become concerned only with the character of the speaker and
Photius leaves out Hermogenic categories that are not in line with Christian virtue: 16
Looked at from a negative point of view, the catalogue of Hermogenic terms of literary criticism…is conspicuous by the virtual elimination of those qualities of style which, while they form part of the system of Hermogenes, yet find little or no place in Photius’ pages, probably through being alien to his ethical ideal (153-154).
Some Hermogenic vocabulary was used by Photius, some was eliminated and some words were even added to list. However, by examining the uses of technical terms of stylistic criticism, Kustas was able to show how the ideas of style within the Pagan system were adapted to the Christian ideal.
Kustas’ argument is complex and far ranging, but what is, for this thesis, most important is how the study traces the adaption and incorporation of Pagan concepts into the Christian tradition by looking at technical terminology. By looking at how those terms were adapted—and just as importantly, what terms Photius did not draw from
Hermogenes—Kustas is arguing that Photius was able to reshape the classical conception of style into a Christian vision of rhetorical excellence. As is well known, though,
Christianity had firm roots before Photius was writing during the 9th century C.E. in the
Byzantine East. In fact, we know Christianity became the favored religion in the Roman
West in 313 C.E. under Constantine. Therefore, this thesis raises two important questions about the relationship of rhetoric and Christianity in the Latin speaking Roman World:
RQ 1: What are the differences in the Christian and Pagan use of technical terms regarding style?
RQ 2: How did these particular differences occur?
The logical place to start such an inquiry would be with the prominent scholar and religious leader Augustine. 17
III. Saint Augustine and de Doctrina Christiana
Saint Augustine had a unique role in shaping Western Christianity for two reasons: first because of the education he received before his dramatic conversion to Christianity; and second because of Rome’s condition after his dramatic conversion to Christianity. In the following section, I will briefly describe both reasons to clarify why Augustine is the obvious starting point for this thesis.
Born in 354 C.E., Augustine excelled in his studies at a young age and, eventually, went on to pursue his education in Carthage (Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric 170). He was a skilled public speaker and while his father could not afford the best Roman education, it is clear from his career that Augustine did the best he could with the education he received.
After completing his training, Augustine became a teacher of Rhetoric in Thagaste, then
Carthage, Rome, and finally in Milan (Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric 171-172). Edward
Corbett tells us, “Anyone who has read The Confessions knows that during the period of his ‘flaming youth’ Augustine was a student of, and later a teacher of, the ‘Pagan’ rhetoric that derived largely from the second Sophistic of Rome” (604). However, after many years spent living the life of the Pagan, Augustine had a dramatic conversion to
Christianity described in the Confessions (Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric 172). He rededicated his life to the Church and became an influential preacher as well as a prolific writer. As a result, Augustine proves to be a rather unique individual for both rhetoric and religion. Along with Augustine’s religious virtues influencing how he lived, his secular education shaped how he preached. 18
Augustine lived and wrote in a time when Christianity was gaining more authority in a politically unstable Rome. In less than one hundred years, Christianity went from ruthless persecution, to being legalized and, finally, to being the official religion of the state. Augustine was born in the middle of this transition and played on both sides of the religious tug of war. Having just established its credibility, the church leaders were debating whether or not to use Pagan rhetoric in Christian teaching (Murphy, Saint
Augustine and the Debate 406). Augustine, on the other hand, viewed rhetoric not as a
Pagan practice, but as a neutral tool that could be mastered for the benefit of Christian preachers in converting others (Green xix). Augustine’s view that “Pagan rhetoric” should be incorporated into Christian preaching has made him a frequent target of research. Not only did he have the mental training and capacities for such a task, the time period in which he was writing forced him to aggressively defend both classical rhetoric and
Christianity. Further, it is out of the tension between Christians who wanted to shun the
Pagan arts entirely and those who wished to “gather roses among the thorns of Paganism” that de Doctrina Christiana was born.
De Doctrina Christiana is one of the places where Augustine’s life as a Pagan and his life as a religious leader dramatically intersect. The text is both completely rhetorical and fully spiritual because it is essentially his attempt to teach church leaders how to teach
Christianity. Separated into four books, de Doctrina Christiana was also written at two different points in time. The first three books were written in the last few years of the fourth century C.E., shortly after Christianity was made the official religion in Rome. The fourth book, which will be the focus of this thesis, was added nearly thirty years later in 19
426 C.E. and is concerned with the eloquence of the Christian speaker. Style, for
Augustine, may be broken into three parts: subdued style, middle style and grand style.
Each of these categories will be discussed further in this thesis.
IV. Quintilian
IV.a Quintilian and de Institutio Oratoria
As is widely known, Marcus Fabius Quintilianus was one of the most accomplished professors of Rhetoric in first century Rome (Kennedy, The Art of Rhetoric
487). Born between A.D. 30 and 40, Quintilian spent his life steeped in academics moving back and forth between his birthplace, Spain, and Rome. Quintilian was taken to Rome by his father for a richer education in rhetoric which is where he was influenced by several prominent teachers including the high ranking consul Domitus Afer (Kennedy, The Art of
Rhetoric 487). Upon completing his education, he returned to Spain and spent eight years practicing law and teaching rhetoric before returning back to Rome where he continued both careers, though enjoying prominent success with the latter (Murphy, Synoptic
History 154).
Unlike his predecessor Cicero (whom Quintilian held in the highest regard as an orator), Quintilian’s accomplishments are not marked by his law practice. In fact, there are only two recorded accounts of Quintilian in the Roman courts. The first was the defense of Naevius Arpinianus in a case that questioned whether or not Naevius threw his wife out of a window. The second was in defense of Queen Berenice in which the Queen
“sat as judge of her own case” (Murphy, Synoptic History 154). Rather, Quintilian 20
received an esteemed reputation (not to mention the resulting honors and wealth) from his career as a professor in Rhetoric.
After retiring from formal teaching around 92 C.E. (Murphy, Synoptic History
155), Quintilian spent the few remaining years of his life writing. It was during this period that he wrote his major work Institutio Oratoria which has one goal: to discuss the education and training of the perfect orator. Quintilian describes his objectives in the
Preface:
Oratorem autem instituimus illum perfectum, qui esse nisi vir bonus non potest, ideoque non dicendi modo eximiam in eo facultatem sed omnis animi virtutes exigimus (1.9).
My aim, then, is the education of the perfect orator. The first essential for such a person is that he should be a good man, and consequently we demand of him not merely the possession of the exceptional gifts of speech, but of all the excellences of character as well.
The distinguishing factor of this work, then, is the high moral standard that Quintilian attributes to his ideal orator or the vir bonus dicendi peritus [the good man speaking well].
He dedicates twelve books in a four-part treatise to the task. The first book discusses the education of the perfect orator before attending school and the second instructs the education of the orator in the earliest years of formal education. The next five books are concerned with the rhetorical canon of invention (which also encompasses arrangement for Quintilian) and the following four books are dedicated to elocution which includes memory and delivery. Finally, the concluding book explicates the ideal orator as a whole
(1.21-22). For the purpose of this thesis, only those chapters assigned to Elocution will be 21
analyzed for the terminology surrounding style. Before moving forward, however, we should take a brief moment to address one potentially puzzling aspect of this thesis.
IV.b Quintilian Representing Pagan Rhetoric
Some might wonder why Cicero was not chosen as the standard of Pagan rhetoric. The basis for such an inquiry is well founded because Cicero’s influence over both Quintilian and Augustine is widely accepted. Quintilian constantly quotes Cicero in de Institutio Oratoria as an exemplary model of rhetoric and Augustine has been said to simply “christianize” Ciceronian rhetoric. However, I chose to use Quintilian as the example of Pagan rhetoric for two reasons: both Quintilian and Augustine were
Imperialists and they both share a strong standard of morality in the education of their readers.
During Cicero’s lifetime, Rome was transitioning from a position of remarkable strength to one of vulnerable instability following Caesar’s death. Thus, Cicero was living, writing, and speaking in a time period when the Republic was crumbling and, after
Caesar’s death in 30 B.C., Rome came under the power of a single emperor, Augustus
(Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric 100). Nonetheless, though, we must remember that Cicero was still a part of the Republic, no matter what its condition. This had completely changed by Quintilian’s time. Rome was going through a period of constant political change and rhetoric was becoming primarily used for epideictic purposes under Imperialism. While
Quintilian was eager to preserve the rhetorical eloquence that was associated with Cicero, he gives no indication of harboring a secret desire to return to republican rule. He is an
Imperial man, not a republican. Furthermore, de Institutio Oratoria serves as a more 22
complete critique of Classical Rhetoric than what we find in any of Cicero’s texts— including de Oratore—but is close enough to Cicero chronologically that it uses much of
Cicero’s technical terminology. Additionally, Quintilian has a stronger moral emphasis in de Institutio than we read in Cicero and, therefore, naturally aligns more closely with
Augustine.
Quintilian’s call for the vir bonus dicendi peritus [the good man speaking well] is certainly not an original concept and is clearly drawn from Cato the Elder, though
Quintilian certainly pushes the idea further than any rhetorician before him. Cicero’s de
Oratore also insists that the ideal orator have a moral component, but we can see through the author’s own life that his moral compass was not always facing North. Cicero had a habit of changing political affiliations in accordance with the political currents of the day and was even known to waiver his loyalty in legal issues. Even Quintilian, with reference to Cicero’s Pro Cluentio, addresses the fact that Cicero felt he had fooled the judges while knowing the truth (2.17.21). While discussing what motivated or justified Cicero’s action does not fall into the scope of this thesis, we need to acknowledge that neither his actions nor his writings push the idea of morality in rhetoric to the same extent as we observe in
Quintilian. This is important because we are comparing Pagan rhetoric with Christian rhetoric as found in Augustine who had obvious moral standards for his ideal orator.
When this morality is combined with the professions of each rhetorician—that of a practical lawyer versus an educator—we find that Quintilian and Augustine share a similar perspective. 23
In conclusion, Quintilian was chosen over Cicero to represent the standard of
Pagan rhetoric because his culture demanded a more comprehensive critique of classical rhetoric than we may find in any one of Cicero’s text and because both Quintilian and
Augustine have a stronger moral concern in the education of their readers than Cicero demonstrates. In the end, it came down to a matter of judgment and I confidently stand by de Institutio Oratoria when exploring the rhetorical canon of eloquence.
V. Methodology
This thesis will utilize a close reading of de Institutio Oratoria by Quintilian and the de Doctrina Christiana by Augustine. Carl Burgchart best summarizes the function of a close reading when he states that it “studies the relationship between the inner workings of public discourse and its historical context in order to discover what makes a particular text function persuasively” (199). In other words, this methodology requires an in-depth reading that moves beyond just the “text” and into the sub/con-text. Burgchart continues saying that a “close textual analysis aims to reveal and explicate the precise, often hidden, mechanisms that give a particular text artistic unity and rhetorical effect” (199). Further,
Stephen Howard Browne suggests that close reading “attends in detail to the interplay of ideas, images, and arguments as they unfold within the spatial and temporal economy of the text” (63). The last part of that statement is particularly important as it suggests that a close reading allows us to make arguments about what the text means, without discussing the extent to which the critique (dis)agrees with the content itself. This method has been used for a wide variety of purposes from Amy Slagell’s “Anatomy of a Masterpiece: A close textual analysis of Abraham Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address” to Catriona 24
Kelly’s book A History of Russian Women’s Writing 1820-1992. A more relevant example may be observed in Stephen Usher’s “Sententiae in Cicero’s Orator 137-9 and
Demsothenes’ de Corona.” Usher isolated thirty-four examples from Cicero’s de Oratore and, through a close reading of the text, was able to argue that Demosthenes’ de Corona was an influential factor on Cicero’s work. Therefore, a close reading will be the most beneficial method for this thesis as the goal is to study the rhetorical effect of identical terms in different contexts.
This method will be applied by reading both texts (de Institutio and de Doctrina) in their native Latin and reviewing reliable translations, glossaries, and commentaries.
Once this has been achieved, the technical vocabulary concerned with style will be noted and compiled in a specialized index.
Since Latin is an inflected language, it is necessary that each individual term in the index be stripped of any suffixes (leaving only the root of the term) and any conceptual words that include the root be added to the list. For example, in de Institutio Oratoria
Quintilian uses the term facundia [eloquence, fluency, command of a language]. From this term, we are able to take a portion of the root [facund] to a standard lexicon and find both the noun facundia (eloquence) and the adjective facundus (speaking easily, fluent, eloquent). Thus, from the original noun, we are able to draw out different uses of the same root word with similar meanings.
Consider how this same process occurs in English with the noun peril. Simply by adding a prefix or suffix, one is able to alter the meaning of the term and how it functions in the sentence. For instance, peril could become perilous and thus form the adjective 25
version of the term. On the other hand, with a prefix, peril could easily become the verb imperil, meaning to put an object in danger. Latin is able to accomplish the same task with a higher degree of facundia (eloquence). For this reason, it would be unwise to index terminology strictly based upon the way a term is used as found in the text. If, for example, Quintilian were to use the noun facundia (for stylistic purposes or otherwise) and Augustine chose to use the word in the form of an adjective, one could not find any contextual similarities—or dissimilarities—between the terms if only the nouns were examined. Hence the necessity to isolate a term, strip it to its root and then add corresponding vocabulary words to the index entry is of the highest importance to this study. Once a full range of terms are identified, close reading of the contextual use of each will be made. 26
Chapter Two: Obscuritas
The objective of this chapter is to explicate obscuritas (obscurity) as it is found in
Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria and Augutine’s de Doctrina Christiana and revisit recent scholarship that suggests wider differences between the two rhetoricians than their texts warrant. We will accomplish this in three steps: Quintilian’s views on obscuritas will be considered, then Augustine’s, and finally, we will look at the classical idea of obscuritas in modern scholarship.
I. Quintilian on Obscuritas
Table 1 is la ist containing every occurrence of obscuritas in books eight and ten of de Doctrina Christiania. This includes the noun (obscuritas), the adjective (obscurus), and the verb (obscurare):
Table 1 Obscuritas, -atis in books eight and ten of de Institutio Oratoria
i) 8.4 sunt autem neque obscura neque ad percipiendum difficilia…
They are, however, neither obscure nor difficult to grasp…
ii) 8.2.12 At obscuritas fit verbis iam ab usu remotis
But obscurity results from words no longer in common use…
iii) 8.2.14 Plus tamen est obscuritatis in contextu et continuatione sermonis, et plures modi.
But there is more obscurity, and more different kinds of it, in the structure and development of the sentence.
iv) 8.2.18 …qui discipulos obscurare quae dicerent iuberet…
…who ordered his students to obscure what they were saying… 27
v) 8.23 …ut obscuritatem apud se ipse discutiat et tenebris orationis inférât quoddam intellegentiae suae lumen…
…so that he dispel obscurities by himself and bring some light from his own understanding to bear on the dark places of the speech… vi) 8.2.24 "quae causa utique nostra, iudices, culpa dicta obscurius:”
“Members of the jury, this case has been presented to you in an unclear fashion through my own fault:” vii) 8.3.50 …quamquam id obscurae potius quam inornatae orationis est vitium.
…althought this is the fault of obscurity rather than a lack of Ornament. viii) 8.3.57 …corrupta oratio in verbis maxime inpropriis, redundantibus, compressione obscura…
…decadent style is shown particularly in improper or redundant words, obscurity of sentence structure… ix) 8.3.73 Quo in genere id est praecipue custodiendum, ne id quod similitudinis gratia adscivimus aut obscurum sit aut ignotum:
In this sort of thing, the main thing to guard against is any obscure or unknown feature in the subject chosen for the simile: x) 8.3.80.a …saepe inproviso nulla ex certa ratione obscura aliqua ex causa concitantur:
…but often also break out with no clear reason from some unknown cause…” xi) 8.3.80b …saepe ita obscura est ut sine causa excitata videatur.
…but often again they are so obscure that they seem to have blown up without a cause. xii) 8.3.82 Hoc male imitantes sequitur obscuritas. 28
Unsuccessful attempts to imitate this end in obscurity.
xiii) 8.4.28 Quod si ad intellectum referas, minutio est, si ad obscuritatem, incrementum.
If we think of the sense, this is an Attenuation, if of Rullus’ obscurity, it is an Amplification.
xiv) 8.6.14 …ita frequens et obscurat et taedio complet…
…frequent to us it leads to obscurity and tedium…
xv) 8.6.52 Sed allegoria quae est obscurior "aenigma" dicitur.
But when an Allegory is too obscure, however, we call it an Enigma.
xvi) 8.6.58 sunt etiam qui haec non species allegoriae sed ipsa tropos dicant, acri quidem ratione, quod illa obscurior sit…
There are also some who regard these not as species of Allegory but as Tropes in their own right; this is a shrewd view, because Allegory is more obscure…
xvii) 8.6.74 Piget referre plurima hinc orta vitia, cum praesertim minime sint ignota et obscura.
I feel it distasteful to report the many faults arising from this Trope, especially as they are by no means unfamiliar or obscure.
xviii) 10.2.17 …[qui] praecisis conclusionibus obscuri Sallustium atque Thucydiden superant…
…writers whose amputated sentences make them obscure are going one better than Sallust or Thucydiden…
Some form of the technical term obscuritas is used a total of eighteen times. The noun (obscuritas) accounts for five occurrences, or twenty-eight percent. The adjective
(obscurus) accounts for eleven occurrences, or sixty-one percent. The verb (obscurare) 29
occurs twice, or eleven percent of the time. Furthermore, a majority of eleven out of the eighteen occurrences of obscuritas (sixty-one percent) occur in 8.2 and 8.3. This should not be surprising, however, because these chapters are dedicated to obscuritas and
“ornament” respectively. As we describe obscuritas for Quintilian, however, we will focus on an explication of 8.2 which, as stated above, is dedicated to and thoroughly outlines obscuritas. First, however, we will briefly discuss the special emphasis which
Quintilian gives to perspicuitas (clarity).
In book eight of Institutio Oratoria, Quintilian provides a detailed account for the stylistic devices that compose eloquence, including sections on Ornament (8.3),
Amplification and Attenuation (8.4), and Sententiae (8.5). Furthermore, in each of these chapters Quintilian lists several sub-categories of each topic, systematically mapping the technical rules for elocution. However, of all the stylistic devices that he refers to, none are given quite as much emphasis as perspicuitas (lucidity):
Nobis prima sit virtus perspcuitas, propria verba, rectus ordo, non in longum dilata conclusio, nihil neque desit neque superfluat: ita sermo et doctis probabilis et planus imperitis erit (8.2.22).
Let us then take, as the primary virtue, Lucidity, “proper” words, straightforward order, no long-delayed conclusion, nothing missing and nothing too much.
Regardless of what rhetorical strategy is used, Quintilian’s primary objective is that the audience will fully comprehend the message that the orator is attempting to convey. While
Quintilian’s goal is certainly reasonable, his standards for accomplishing the task are not to be taken lightly: 30
Quare non ut intellegere posit sed ne omnino posit non intellegere curandum (8.2.24).
The thing to aim at is not that the audience should be able to understand but that they should not be able misunderstand.
Note, here, Quintilian’s high standards for clarity: it is not enough for an orator to be clear, but he must make his argument so razor-sharp that even an inattentive audience has no choice but to understand. Since we are to take perspicuitas as the primary virtue for
Quintilian’s ideal orator, it is necessary to outline his structure for how to reach such painstaking clarity.
Quintilian dedicates a large portion of 8.2 describing perspicuitas but, unfortunately, it is limited to addressing the various meanings of the term proprietas
[propriety] (8. 2.1-11). The nuanced meanings of proprietas are all shades of the same colourful conclusion: use the appropriate terminology based on the context in which you are writing or speaking. Despite being the most important aspect of perspicuitas (8.2.1), even a reader skilled in proprietas is unequipped to achieve the primary stylistic virtue.
To remedy this, Quintilian informs the reader what leads to obscuritas: outdated words; regional terms; poor syntax; long parentheses; succumbing to amiguitas; and pointless rambling. I will now provide a brief summary of all six parts so that we may more fully understand what obscuritas means for Quintilian as a whole.
I.a Six Causes of Obscuritas
First, Quintilian argues that the orator should avoid using words that are no longer recognizable to a modern audience. He berates a speaker who seeks specific words or phrases from past texts in an attempt to sound more intelligent to his audience: 31
ut si commentarios quis pontificum et vetustissima foedera et exoletos scrutatus auctores id ipsum petat ex iis quae inde contraxerit, quod non intelleguntur (8.2.12).
Suppose, for example, a man were to hunt through the records of the pontifices, ancient treaties, and obsolete authors, deliberately looking for unintelligibility in the extracts he makes from them. Some seek a reputation for erudition from this; they want to be thought to be the only people who know certain things.
In other words, Quintilian does not see the point in bolstering vocabulary with words that are no longer in use. It would be, for instance, like hearing the local weatherman suggest that this winter will be “frigiforic.” While some may be impressed by the use of such an outdated term, Quintilian would prefer the weatherman simply say, “It is going to be a cold winter.” Although the phrase is less “impressive” the meaning is more accessible to a larger audience.
Second, Quintilian tells his readers to avoid using words that have regional signification. After providing a few examples of words that have taken on geographically specific meanings, Quintilian argues that one must define these terms and use them only out of necessity:
Fallunt etiam verba vel regionibus quibusdam magis familiaria vel atrium propria, ut ‘atabulus’ ventus et navis ‘stlataria’ et ‘inmalocosanum.’ Quae vel vitanda apud iudicem ignarum significationum earum vel interpretanda sunt, sicut in iis quae homonyma vocantur, ut “Taurus” animal sit an mons an signum in caelo an nomen hominis an radix arboris nisi distinctum non intellegetur (8.2.13).
Words more familiar in certain districts or peculiar to certain professions are also misleading, such as atabulus (a wind), 32
stlataria (a type of ship) and inmalocosanum.1 These expressions are either to be avoided with a judge who does not know these meanings, or else explained, like what are called “homonyms”: for instance, whether Taurus is an animal (“bull”) or a mountain or a constellation or a man’s name or the root of a tree will not be understood unless it is made clear.
Notice that Quintilian does not altogether forbid the use of words with two or more meanings. Rather, he wants the orator to be aware of the contextual—in this instance, regional—nuances of a term so that meaning may be clarified for the audience before it becomes problematic. A modern example of this phenomenon can be observed in the
French term bienvenue. In French from France, bienvenue would be understood as
“welcome”—as in, welcoming customers into your store or friends into your home.
Bienvenue in French from North America, on the other hand, may be used as “you’re welcome” in response to someone who has said “thank you.” For any person living in the region, context will obviously play a role in determining the meaning of the term, but
French speaker from France may be caught off guard in Québec City when hearing bienvenue after saying merci. The equivalent in English would be hearing a person from
England saying that you have gone “barmy;” if you have learned English in North
America, you would probably be unaware that you are being called “crazy” or “mad.”
Third, Quintilian warns his orator to keep a watchful eye on how a sentence is structured and developed. A sentence, argues Quintilian, should be as concise as possible with proper word order:
1 The definition of this word is unknown. See footnote 26 in Russel, pg. 332. 33
Quare nec sit tam longus ut eum prosequi non posit intentio, nec traiectione ultra modum hyperbato finis eius differatur (8.2.14).
The sentence therefore should not be too long to be followed with attention, and the end of it should not be postponed too far by hyperbation.
Hyperbato refers to the rhetorical tool “hyperbation” in which the writer changes the typically accepted word order in an attempt to decorate the expression. Hyperbation can often be found in poetry, as in as in Edgar Allen Poe’s Tell Tale Heart: “Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man” (3). We must hold in mind that Latin is a declined language, which means that there are no strict rules for word order as found in the English language. A word takes on the role of Subject, Verb, Object, etc. depending on the word’s ending, not on the word’s placement in the sentence. Thus, Quintilian is reacting to Latin’s vulnerability of taking long sentences and jumbling the word order in a way that causes pointless confusion:
ut si quis dicat visum a se hominen librum scribentem. Nam etiam si librum ab homine scribi patet, male tamen composuerit, feceritque ambiguum quantum in ipso fuit (8.2.16).
So if you were to say, for example, “I saw a man a book writing,” although it is obvious that the man is writing the book, it will be a bad piece of composition, and you will have made it as ambiguous as you could.
It is for this reason that Quintilian wants his orator to keep sentences short, sweet, and structured in a straightforward manner, especially in practical legal matters.
Fourth, Quintilian suggests that adding a parenthetical statement into a sentence before an idea has been fully developed has the potential to hinder understanding. While it is never claimed that an author should avoid using parentheses altogether, Quintilian 34
wants the insertion to be as short as possible so as not to interrupt the listener’s train of thought. Virgil is provided as an example of this error despite Quintilian’s open esteem for the poet:
Nam Vergilius illo loco quo pullum equinum describit, cum dixisset “nec vanos horret strepitus,” compluribus insertis alia figura quinto demum veru redit: tum, si qua sonum procul arma dederunt stare loco nescit (8.2.15).
When Vergil, in the passage in which he describes a colt, has said, “Nor dreads he empty noises,” he goes on to insert several details, in a different Figure, and does not come back till four lines later, with: “Then, if the sound of arms is heard afar, stand still he cannot.”
The goal is to clarify or emphasise a point, not to add new ideas to a thought already in progress. The risk run is that by the time the reader reaches the conclusion of a statement, it is possible that they will have forgotten the foundational words that preceded it.
Another form of obscurity that is addressed warns the orator against two things.
First, sentences should not be overwhelmed with unnecessary jargon. Quintilian suggests that these types of sentences stem from an unusual attraction to long, overdrawn statements quod dicere nolunt ipsa [because they do not wish to say the thing itself;
8.2.17]. In his humorous anecdote, Quintilian relates a story about how this vice is often praised (Table 1.iv):
In hoc malum a quibusdam detiam laboratur: neque id novum vitium est, cum iam apud Titum Livium iveniam fuiise praeceptorem aliquem qui discipulos obscurare quae dicerent iuberet, Graeco verbo utens skotison. Unde illa scilicet egregia laudatio: ‘tanto melior: ne ego quidem intellexi (8.2.18). 35
Some even make an effort to acquire this vice; nor is it a new failing, for I find already in Livy that there was once a teacher who told his pupils to obscure what they were saying: he used the Greek word skotison, “Darken it!” Hence the famous compliment, “Excellent! I couldn’t understand it myself.”
The story is humorous only because it so accurately depicts the attitude of some writers in all fields. After all, how often has modern scholarship seen or even encouraged papers, articles, and books to use terms that often force the reader to struggle for comprehension?
The opposite shortcoming, however, is no better. Some authors will remove necessary words in their attempt to be as brief as possible:
Alii brevitatem aemulati necessaria quoque orationi subtrahunt verba, et, velut satis sit scire ipsos quid dicere velint, quantum ad alios pertineat nihil putant: at ego vitiosum sermonem dixerim quem auditor suo ingenio intellegit (8.2.19).
Others, in their zeal for brevity, cut out even essential words from their discourse: as though it was enough that they should themselves know what they mean, they regard other people’s concern in the matter as of no importance.
Note, again, the extreme standards Quintilian has set for the orator. Quintilian views it as a fault if any reasonable listener struggles to understand the meaning of a message. One would almost call this “spoon-feeding” an audience and, in fact, the textual evidence prioritizing clarity suggests that Quintilian would have no problem with that image. The objective is to find the perfect combination of conciseness and lucidity; neither should forsake the other.
In the sixth and final category of obscuritas, Quintilian gives the reader a trickier task: Vitanda in primis ambiguitas [the first thing needing to be avoided is ambiguity; 36
8.2.16]. The problem, of course, is that ambiguitas is theoretically very similar to obscuritas. In fact, the English equivalences “ambiguous” and “obscure” are typically used synonymously despite their distinct meanings. However, the two terms are conceptualized as distinctly separate for Quintilian because one is merely a part of the larger whole. Since Quintilian discusses ambiguitas in book seven, we may turn there for more details of his classification.
I.b Quintilian on Ambiguitas
Although Quintilian states that there are innumerable types of ambiguitates, he calls attention to four examples in particular: single words, broken words, compound words, and groups of words due to cases, arrangement, and subject confusion. These four are different in structure but each share a common shortcoming which, as we shall see, categorizes them as ambiguitas and makes them only a subtype of the larger vice obscuritas. First, Quintilian calls attention to how single words can cause confusion because one word may carry more than one meaning:
Singula adferunt errorem cum pluribus rebus aut hominibus eadem appellatio est (homonumia dicitur), ut ‘gallus’ avem an gentem an nomen an fortunam corporis significet incertum est, et ‘Aiax’ Telamonius an Oilei filius. Verba quoque quadeam diversos intellectus habent, ut ‘cerno’ (7.9.2).
Single words give rise to error, when the same name applies to a number of things or persons (this is called Homonymy): thus it is unclear whether gallus signifies a bird or a nation or a proper name or a certain physical misfortune, and Ajax may mean the son of Telamon or the son of Oileus. Some verbs likewise have different meantings, like cerno. 37
This instance of ambiguitas boils down to Homonyms, or one word that carries two meanings. Take, for instance, the English word “bat.” This term signifies two objects: one in reference to the recreational instrument used in baseball and the other to the nocturnal mammal. Now, consider the sentence “The ball hit the bat.” While it would be much more likely that “bat” refers to the definition aligned with baseball, it is not entirely clear that the ball did not strike the nocturnal mammal. While this is an insignificant example,
Quintilian mentions how arguments often arise as a result of homonyms in legal documents, such as wills, where the stakes are much higher (7.9.2). Context certainly plays a role in determining the meaning of a Homonym, but there can still be a large degree of interpretation required.
Quintilian categorizes second type of ambiguitas as “broken or joined words.”
What is important to know here is that ambiguitas may stem from words that are broken or put together:
Alterum est in quo alia integro verbo signification est, alia diviso (7.9.4).
Another type of ambiguity is where the words have one meaning as a whole and another when broken up.
Again, the nature of Latin makes the language more vulnerable to this type of error than we often observe English. Quintilian, for example, briefly points to the term auletris:
Cum quaeritur utrum aula quae ter ceciderit an tibicina si ceciderit debeat publicari (7.9.4).
When the question is whether what is to be confiscated is a hall which has fallen down three times (tris), or a flute girl (auletris) who has fallen down. 38
However, it should be noted that this type of ambiguitas seems a bit pedantic to Quintilian as he himself refers to it as ineptae sane cavillationis [this is all foolish quibbling; 7.9.4].
In other words, the reader is left with the sense that Quintilian thinks this form of ambiguitas as being important enough to make the reader aware of but not worth discussing in much depth.
Subsequently, Quintilian calls more attention to the third type of ambiguitas, compound words, which are very similar in nature to words that are broken or joined together, but Quintilian takes the former much more seriously because of the way Latin was written in Quintilian’s time. Ancient Latin script did not include punctuation or space breaks between words, which would make defining a compound word entirely up to context. If English had this type of continuous script, a good example could be seen in the word, “INFORM.” In isolation, the reader would be unaware whether or not the word was
“inform” or should be broken down to “in form.” This adds weight to the example provided by Quintilian in describing a man who demanded being buried in an
“incultoloco” upon death. The word inculto may be read as either “in culto” meaning “in a cultivated place” or it could read “inculto” meaning an “uncultivated place” (7.9.5-6).
Quintilian categorizes this as an instance of ambiguitas because the readers are left with two options that are open to interpretation.
Finally, Quintilian argues that grouped words can lead to ambiguitas for three reason including cases, arrangement of words, and subject confusion, because all three can lead to meanings that may be interpreted in two ways. One example is in 7.9.6 where
Quintilian says, aio te, Aeacida, Romanos vincere posse [I say that you, O child of 39
Aeacus, the Romans can defeat]. Rusell states that “it leaves unclear whether te or romanos is the subject of vincere posse” (de Institutio Oratoria vol. 4; 282; fn. 7). In
English, this would be the difference between saying, “The Romans can defeat you” and
“you can defeat the Romans.” Obviously, there are major ramifications for this type of ambiguitas. Finally, Quintilian notes that sometimes a sentence’s subject can be difficult to determine: heres meus uxori meae dare damnas esto argenti quod elegerit pondo centum [My heir shall be bound to give my wife a hundred pounds of silver as they choose”; 7.9.9]. In this example, it is clear that the wife will receive silver from the heir, but the reader is not sure who is to choose the silver. “They” may be interpreted as either the heir or as the wife.
In sum, we have seen that there are four types of ambiguitas: single words, broken words, compound words, and groups of words that are ambiguous due to cases, arrangement, and subject confusion. Further, in each instance the reader may see a common thread: the audience is forced to choose one of two possible interpretations. As will be shown in the next paragraph, it is this thin but crucial line makes ambiguitas under the larger category, obscuritas.
Ambiguitas and obscuritas are often treated synonymously but are, in fact, distinctly different. Ambiguitas refers to a situation in which the audience may interpret a word or phrase in one of two ways. In other words, the reader or the listener is unsure if they should understand Option A or Option B, but those will be the only two options that the reader may choose. Obscuritas, on the other hand, refers to a lack of clarity and may have any number of sources. Note the examples that have been given for obscuritas: 40
using outdated terms, using regional jargon, employing poor syntax in a sentence, or adding parentheses that interrupt a sentence’s reasoning. Rather than forcing the reader to decide between two possible options for interpretation—as is the case in ambiguitas— these errors hide the meaning of the message due to an equivocal word or phrase. Thus, ambiguitas will always be obscure, but obscuritas may not always be ambiguous. For this reason, Quintilian prioritizes obscuritas over ambiguitas but feels the latter worth mentioning as a sub-category of the former. This distinction is quite different in
Augustine as we will see.
In conclusion, while we are not told directly how to reach clarity with a checklist of “to-do’s,” we are informed how to avoid obscuritas with a list of “do-not’s.” First, do not use outdated terms; second, do not use terms with region specific meaning (unless, of course, you clarify the meaning); third, do not make the sentence structure more convoluted than it needs to be; fourth, do not insert long parentheses that distract from the initial thought; fifth, do not add unnecessary words or subtract crucial terms in the name of brevity; and sixth, do not succumb to using ambiguous terms. We have also established not only a clear conception of how obscuritas functions rhetorically for Quintilian, but we have also seen the amount of emphasis the rhetorician places on perspicuitas. Quintilian’s extensive treatment of the topic should be a sign of the importance of clarity over ornament.
Now, we will turn our attention to Augustine who broadens obscuritas in one specific area of rhetoric but, whether purposefully or otherwise, sticks close to
Quintilian’s conservatism in dealing with obscuritas in Christian rhetoric. 41
II. Augustine on Obscuritas
As we have seen above, Quintilian believes perspicuitas to be the primary virtue for his ideal orator and, therefore, holds obscurity to be the primary vice. By the time we reach Augustine, however, we see obscuritas may actually be used as a stylistic virtue, but only in a very limited context. Table 2 is a compilation of the occurrences of obscuritas in all forms in book four of de Doctrina Christiana including the noun
(obscuritas) and the adjective (obscurus). Using Table 2, we will outline the benefits and limitations of obscuritas as viewed by Augustine and then clarify to whom Augustine entrusts the use of obscuritas.
Table 2 Obscuritas, -atis in book four of de Doctrina Christiana
i) 4.27 Ipsa quoque obscuritas divinorum salubriumque dictorum tali eloquentiae miscenda fuerat …
The fusion of obscurity with such eloquence in the salutary words of God was necessary…
ii) 4.48 …ut ad spiritalem sensum scrutandum magis admoneretur lectoris intentio, unde etiam obscuriora nonnulla…
…so that the reader's attention might be alerted to the search for spiritual meaning (which is why some of their sayings—the more figurative ones—are rather obscure )…
iii) 4.61 …ut ad pietatem convertantur sive ut a mysteriis secludantur, animos impiorum utili ac salubri obscuritate dixerunt. …They spoke with a useful and healthy obscurity so that the minds of the impious may be turned to piety or so that they would not be secluded form the holy mysteries… 42
iv) 4.65.a …ut verbum quod nisi obscurum sit vel ambiguum latinum esse non potest…
…to ensure that a word which cannot be good Latin unless it is obscure or ambiguous…
v) 4.65.b …vulgi autem more sic dicitur ut ambiguitas obscuritasque vitetur…
…but which is used in colloquial speech in a way that avoids obscurity and ambiguity…
Obscuritas occurs a total of five times in book four of de Doctrina Christiania.
The noun (obscuritas) accounts for three of the five occurrences, or sixty percent. The adjective (obscurum) occurs twice, or forty percent of the time. There are no occurrences of the verb form (obscurare). However, there are times when Augustine references ideas around obscuritas which do not use the technical term itself. This section will, then, prioritize an understanding of obscuritas in Augustine which include examples outside of
Table 2.
In antiquity, most rhetoricians typically regarded obscuritas as one of the major rhetorical downfalls, though there are a few exceptions that will be discussed in the next section. Thus, Augustine is both bold and fairly novel in his critique of the Scriptures when he states:
Nam ubi eos intellego, non solum nihil eis sapientius verum etiam nihil eloquentius mihi videri potest. Et audio dicere omnes qui recte intellegunt quod illi loquuntur simul intellegere non eos aliter loqui debuisse (4.25).
For when I understand these authors, not only can I conceive of nothing wiser; I can conceive of nothing more eloquent. Indeed, I 43
venture to say that all who correctly understand what these writers are saying realize at the same time that it would not have been right for them to express it in any other way.
In this passage, Augustine insists that the Scriptures are not only the most wise texts— which one would expect from the mouth of a Saint—but also the most eloquent—which one would not expect from the mouth of an informed rhetorician. As pointed out by
Murphy, the unlearned style of the Scriptures would have been no secret to the rhetoricians of Augustine’s time (Saint Augustine and the Debate 403). Even Saint Basil is less open to calling the Scriptures eloquent when he says “although [the Christian author’s] style is unlearned, their content is true and they are the thoughts to which we give utterance” (qtd. in Fox 89). Furthermore, Saint Jerome fears that his reading of the classical texts would tempt his attention away from the Scriptures by their formal beauty and, ultimately, will cost him his soul. So deep was this fear, in fact, that in recounting a terrible nightmare Jerome is confronted by God who says, “thou art not a Christian, but a
Ciceronian” (qtd. in Ellspermann 161). Augustine, however, makes a different claim while realizing the need to address the issue of the Scripture’s unorthodox eloquence, particularly with regard to obscuritas:
Dicendum ergo mihi aliquid esse video et de eloquentia prophetarum, ubi per tropologiam multa obteguntur (4.48).
So I realize that I must say something also about the eloquence of the prophets, in which much is concealed because of their figurative language.
Thus, the reader is left deciphering a coin with two drastically different sides: on the one hand, Augustine argues that the Scriptures are the most eloquent texts in existence. On the other hand, Augustine readily admits that these texts are sometimes obscure, which 44
challenges the traditional view held by the teachers of rhetoric. The question, of course, becomes how such a position may be defended. Augustine does this in two ways: first, by arguing that the reader, rather than the author, is at fault for not understanding the
Scripture’s eloquence; second, the prophet’s use of obscuritas is a purposeful rhetorical tool in order to bring the reader to a deeper level of understanding than clarity could have accomplished. Both lines of thought will now be briefly elaborated.
To the first point, Augustine argues that a misunderstanding of eloquence is not the same as a lack of eloquence:
ubi vero non eos intellego, minus quidem mihi apparet eorum eloquentia sed eam non dubito esse talem quails est ubi intellego (4.27).
When I fail to understand them, their eloquence is less clear to me, but I have no doubt that it is of the same standard as that which appears clearly when I do understand them.
The traditional view that the stylistic virtues of a text should be critiqued based on the text itself is completely flipped on its head. Using himself as an example, Augustine humbly admits that while the eloquence in the Scriptures is sometimes hidden, it is he who lacks understanding and not the authors who lack proper style. Clearly, this is in direct opposition to Quintilian who ardently believes that the goal of the orator is non ut
[iudicum] intellegere posit sed ne omnino posit non intellgere currandum [not that he should be able to understand but that he should not be able to misunderstand; 8.2.24]. This is the first aspect of Augustine’s broadened view of obscuritas and will be treated with more depth in the following section. 45
The second defense of obscuritas, however, addresses the prophet’s motivation for purposefully making the Scriptures difficult to immediately understand (Table 2.i):
Ipsa quoque obscuritas divinorum salubriumque dictorum talk eloquentia miscenda fuerat, in qua proficere noster intellectus non solum invention verum etiam exercitatione deberet (4.27).
The fusion of obscurity with such eloquence in the salutary words of God was necessary in order that our minds could develop not just by making discoveries but also by undergoing exertion.
Augustine is arguing that, in the Scriptures, obscuritas is the necessary rhetorical tool for achieving the prophet’s objectives. Unlike the Pagan teachers of rhetoric, who were only concerned with dilemmas of the earthly world, the Scriptures face the challenge of making reader’s understand eternal meaning. The content is inherently opaque to creatures living in time and space. This is why Augustine states:
Sapienter autem dicit homo tanto magis vel minus quanto in scripturis sanctis magis minusve profecit, non dico in eis multum legendis memoriaeque mandandis sed bene intellegendis et diligenter earum sensibus indagandis (4.19).
The wisdom of what a person says is in direct proportion to his progress in learning the holy scriptures—and I am not speaking of intensive reading or memorization, but real understanding and careful investigation of their meaning.
The Scriptures contain ideas that are so far removed from everyday life, that merely reading them is not always sufficient for comprehension. Instead, one must absorb and understand the eternal wisdom of the text. This argument is supported by Augustine’s use of the term “indagandis” which stems from the verb “indago” meaning “to search into, investigate, explore; hunt for, strive to obtain.” Augustine recognizes the needs of metaphors, parables, and allegories to push the reader’s mind beyond the lexical confines 46
of the Scriptures into the text’s eternal message. Andrew King sums up Augustine’s argument best when he states, “through the resolution of obscurity, the learner becomes deeply involved with and personally committed to the divine meanings as they are encountered” (112). In other words, obscuritas allows the reader of the Scriptures not just to read the text, but also to grapple with it and the struggle helps them to internalize it.
However, Augustine—with all his wisdom and foresight—is quick to warn aspiring preachers from incorporating obscuritas into their own sermons and turns back to the traditional view. In fact, in his own words, Augustine is as clear as possible:
Non ergo expositors eorum ita loqui debent tamquam se ipso exponendos simili aucoritate proponant, sed in omnibus sermonibus suis primitus ac maxime ut intellegantur elaborent, ea quantum possunt perspicuitate dicendi, ut aut multum tardus sit qui non intellegit, autin rerum quas explicare atque ostendere volumus difficultate ac subtilitate, non in nostra locutione sit causa qua minus tardiusve quod dicimus posit intellegi (4.62).
Their [scripture’s] expositors should not speak in such a way that they set themselves up as similar authorities, themselves in need of exposition, but should endeavor first and foremost in all their sermons to make themselves understood and to ensure, by means of the greatest possible clarity, that only the very slow fail to understand, and that the reason why anything that we say is not easily or quickly understood lies in the difficulty and complexity of the matters that we wish to explain and clarify, and not in our mode of expression.
The use of the term auctoritate in the phrase se ipso exponendos simili aucoritate proponant [propelling themselves as similar to the authority, themselves in need of expososition] cannot be overlooked. While the lexical definition is “a producing, 47
production, invention, cause,” Green translates this contextually as “authority”2 (223).
The importance of auctoritate is to demonstrate that even though Augustine has previously argued for obscuritas as a positive rhetorical tool in the Scriptures, he is setting strict guidelines for who is allowed to be obscure. More specifically, Augustine is clearly stating that the Christian authors of the Holy Scriptures are allowed to employ obscuritas in order to nourish the soul of the reader, but modern preachers are not allowed under any circumstances to use obscuritas and should acknowledge that they do not have the authority to do so. In short, obscuritas is a divine right. We can see how vehemently
Augustine feels about this in the way he emphasizes perspicuitas. It is the responsibility of preachers to speak as clearly quantum possunt [as much as they are able to]. Thus, we are able to outline the Augustinian rules for obscuritas: Scriptures are rightfully obscure whereas the expositors of the Scriptures must always adhere to clarity. This thesis is not, however, the first to reach this conclusion.
In a recent publication, “The Stylistic Virtues of Clarity and Obscurity in
Augustine of Hippo’s De Doctrina Christiana,” Martin Camper traces the use of clarity and obscuritas through Aristotle, Cicero, Quintilian, and Augustine. Camper’s objective is to argue that Augustinian rhetoric differs from the traditional view in that, for Augustine,
“clarity and obscurity and their relative balance function as rhetorical resources” for
2 There are three definitions that “auctoritas” could arguably take in context: originator, authority, or example. As stated, Green translates the term as “authority” and his definition will be used; while “example” seems too lofty for the discussion, one could reasonably argue that Augustine used “auctoritate” in the singular form to mean “originator” in reference to God as Augustine assumes the Scriptures to be divinely inspired, rather than the handiwork of man. 48
interpreting the Scriptures, and in this situation, “both obscurity and clarity work together to achieve the goals of divine eloquence.” Furthermore, the “dualism” (nominatur by
Camper) of obscuritas in the Scriptures and the urging of clarity by preachers is elaborated and compared with the teachers of rhetoric. Finally, Camper challenges previous researchers to revisit their conception of Augustine’s framework for obscuritas.
III. Revisiting Augustine’s “Rejection” of Quintilianic Principles
Camper overreaches in his view that Augustine is diverging not only from
Aristotelean and Cieronean rhetoric, but Quintilianic theory as well. In this section, then, the argument will be made that Camper was correct in saying Augustine moves beyond
Cicero and Aristotle in terms of obscuritas, but does not do so with Quintilian to the extent portrayed, if at all. In his well-researched article, Camper views traditional—or
Pagan—rhetoric from a necessarily broad lens because it encompasses three major authors who have written centuries apart—Aristotle, Cicero, and Quintilian. Since this thesis is only focused on a close reading of a few select books written by the latter, I have the advantage of more narrowly defining the rhetorical practice of Quintilian and distinguishing him from the other two rhetoricians. With this in mind, I would like to revisit Camper’s claim regarding the differences between Quintilianic and Augustinian rhetoric:
Besides directly opposing Cicero, Augustine’s advice also opposes Quintilian’s position that “we must not accept as a rule of language any bad habits which have become ingrained in people. I shall therefore define Usage in speech as the consensus of the educated, just as the Usage of life is the consensus of the good” (Camper, 2013). 49
This statement is then compared with Augustine’s advice to modern preachers (Table 2.iv, v):
Cuius evidentiae diligens appetitus aliquando neglegit verba cultiora nec curat quid bene sonet sed quid bene indicet atque intimet quod ostendere intendit…Quamvisinbonis doctoribus tanta docendi cura sit, vel esse debeat, ut verbum quod nisi obscurum sit vel ambiguum latinum esse non potest, vulgi autem more sic dicitur ut ambiguitas obscuritasque vitetur, non sic dicatur ut a doctis sed potius ut ab indoctisdicisolet (4.64-65).
The careful pursuit of this clarity (evidentiae) sometimes leads one to neglect elegant vocabulary and consider not what sounds good but what is good for putting over and making clear what one has to say…But good teachers take, or should take, the greatest care to ensure that a word which cannot be good Latin unless it is obscure (obscurum) or ambiguous, but which is used in colloquial speech in a way that avoids obscurity (obscuritas) and ambiguity, is not used as it is used by educated people but rather as the uneducated tend to use it.
The underlying assumption of the comparison is reasonable: Quintilian is concerned with dignified speech whereas Augustine is not. More specifically, Augustine is only concerned that the preacher is understood, regardless of the language’s status. However, this is an oversimplification of Quintilian and is not, in this context, a fair reading of de
Institutio Oratoria. I wish to provide evidence to suggest that, while Quintilian is concerned with the use of proper Latin, he also provides several places to suggest that he too prioritizes perspicuitas over proper speech. Having established this, I believe it will illuminate the similarities between Augustinian and Quintilianic treatment of obscuritas and offer a reading of both through a new, more focused, lens.
On a first reading, Quintilian’s de Institutio Oratoria can be viewed as a set of
“rules” that need to be followed by students of rhetoric and, indeed, this is a major part of his work. However, to suggest that Quintilian would stick to these rules while 50
disregarding context is an overstatement. As has been shown, Quintilian has a passion for protecting the sophistication of the Latin language. This is a major theme throughout the work and several examples may be seen from his fear of infants learning vulgar language at a young age (1.1.1-24) to making filthy habits of language a permanent way of speaking through poor examples (1.2.8). Furthermore, Quintilian tells his orator not only that lucidity has a place for “proper” words (8.3.16) but that there is simply no place for coarse or vulgar words in educated speech (8.3.17). In fact, there are numerous examples in book VIII alone, which—on the surface—justify Camper’s argument. However, for every quote that portrays Quintilian as a stickler for grammatical rules and vocabulary, there is a passage that encourages balance, moderation, and, above all else, prioritizes clarity over sophistication.
In those sections where Quintilian urges his orator to use proper, rather than vulgar, language, he is usually quick to warn against the opposite danger: attempting to sound too refined and making a speech obscure:
…propiis dignitatem dat antiquitas. Namque et sacntiorem et magis admirabilem faciunt orationem, quibus non quilibet fuerit usurus…Sed utendum modo nec ex ultimis tenebris reptenda. Satis est vetus ‘quaeso’: quid necesse est ‘quaiso’ dicere? ‘Oppido’ quamquam usi sunt paulum tempore nostro superiors, vereor ut iam nos ferat quisquam: certe ‘antegerio’, cuius eadem significatio est, nemo nisi ambitiosus utetur (8.3.25-26).
In proper words, age confers dignity, because words which not everyone would have used give style a more venerable and distinguished air…But moderation is needed: we must not look for words in the darkest recesses of the past. Quaseo is archaic enough: why must we say quaiso? No one would tolerate our using oppido, though our predecessors used it not so long ago; certainly antegerio, which has the same meaning, could only be used by someone who wanted to show off. 51
Thus, we see Quintilian concerned not merely with strict rules of vocabulary, but in striking the balance between educated and pompous. He would not advise his orator to use language that makes him sound educated, rather, he wants the audience to understand the message. This type of moderation can be frequently observed in Quintilian and the author himself most concisely sums his advice when he later states obstat enim quidquid non adiuvat [Whatever is no help is a hindrance; 8.6.61]. Finally, one more example should suffice to this end:
Praeterea ne decet quidem, ubi, axima rerum momenta versantur, de verbis esse sollicitum. Neque hoc eo pertinet, ut in his nullus sit ornatus, sed uti pressior et servior et minus confessus, praecipue materiae accommodatus (8.3.13)
Moreover, when important matters are at stake, it is actually improper to be fussy about words. This does not mean that there should be no Ornament in these cases, but that it should be more restrained and austere, less obvious, and above all appropriate to the subject.
No other passage could serve as a better illustration of Quintilian’s desire for balance. Do not be “fussy” about word choice, but do not get lazy either. Furthermore, “above all” choose the words that will be most fitting to the subject at hand. That last statement brings us into an interesting territory where we start to discover Quintilian recognizing grammatical rules but prioritizing context. In fact, when read more closely, we find that
Quintilian address three situations, which will change the definition of “proper” words and their relation to perspicuitas: time, audience, and subject matter. 52
III.a Considering Time
It needs to be stated that Quintilian has a broad conception of language that is not limited to his own era. In other words, he is fully aware that languages evolve not just from one to another—as from Latin to the Romantic languages—but within themselves as well. Thus, it is not surprising to see that Quintilian advises his orator to consider the time in which he is speaking. He most blatantly addresses this issue in book ten:
Ideoque plerique, cum verba quaedam ex orationibus excerpserunt aut aliquos compositionis certos pedes, mire a se quae legerunt effingi arbitrantur, cum et verba intercidant invalescantque temporibus, ut quorum certissima sit regula in consuetudine, eaque non sua natura sint bona aut mala (nam per se soni tantum sunt), sed prout opportune proprieque at secus conlocata sunt (10.2.13).
Thus many people think that, if they have picked out some words from speeches or some particular rhythmical feet, they have succeeded wonderfully in reproducing what they have read. Yet words lose or gain currency with the times, because the surest rule for them is usage, and they are not good or bad by nature (for in themselves they are merely sounds) but only in the virtue of their aptitude or propriety (or the reverse) in their context.
Quintilian could not have stated his point more clearly: the propriety of words changes with time and “the surest rule for them” is “usage.” This is not the only place, however, where this idea is found in de Institutio. Consider earlier in book eight where Quintilian acknowledges that coining words is well within the rights of the modern orator (8.3.34).
Two chapters later, Quintilian points out how the word sententiae has changed from the use of the ancients—then meaning what they felt in their animus [heart, mind, soul]—to the use in Quintilian’s generation—meaning what is perceived through the sensus [touch, sight, smell, etc.; 8.5.2]. The difference, therefore, between the ancients’ usage and 53
Quintilian’s usage of the term would be the difference of “feeling with the heart” and
“perceiving with the mind,” respectively. Lastly, we may observe Quintilian expressing delight that the changes of language actually cause more pleasure for the audience
(8.6.51).
These comments are often overlooked by scholars who paint Quintilian as a rigid teacher hovering over a student’s desk, ruler in hand, counting the syllables in a sentence.
Rather, we can see that he is reasonably open to what the context demands, which will be important in considering Augustinian rhetoric. Before that, however, we will see two other situations where Quintilian will prioritize clarity over technical rules, beginning with audience.
III.b Considering Audience
Quintilian wants the speaker to hold the audience in mind before composing a speech. We have already seen a glimpse of this view in book eight where Quintilian argues that moderation will lead to clarity, even for an inattentive audience. In fact,
Quintilian overtly states (Table 1.v):
quod et ipsum in consilio est habendum, non semper tam esse acrem iudicis intentionem ut obscuritatem apud se ipse discutiat et tenebris orationis inferat quoddamintellegentiae suae lumen (8.2.23).
Inattentiveness is something that [the orator] must take into account: the judge’s concentration is not always so keen that he can dispel obscurities by himself and bring some light from his own understanding to bear on the dark places of the speech.
While this passage reflects Quintilian’s idea of composing a speech while holding the audience in mind, it sheds only a dim light on the overall topic. It is in book ten where 54
Quintilian gets to the heart of the issue. In describing the merits which reading History books may offer to the style of the orator, Quintilian describes how we must choose our words carefully while keeping the audience in mind:
Itaque, ut dixi, neque illa Sallustiana brevitas, qua nihil apud aures vacuas atque eruditas potest esse perfectius, apud occupatum variis cogitationibus iudicem et saepius ineruditum captanda nobis est, neque illa Livi lacteal ubertas satis docebit eum qui non speciem expositionis sed fidem quaerit (10.1.32-33).
So, as I said (4.2.25), we should make no effort to recapture the famous conciseness of Sallust, when we are addressing a busy, distracted, and often unlearned judge, though nothing could be more perfect for the leisured and scholarly reader. Nor, on the other hand, will Livy’s creamy richness give clear enough information for a judge who looks not for elegance of exposition, but for credibility.
We need to note how Quintilian’s depiction of utilizing Sallust’s concise style and Livy’s
“creamy richness” is wholly dependent upon the judge listening. The grammar and word use of Sallust will be too difficult for the “unlearned” judge and is not appropriate, but
Livy’s eloquence will not be clear enough to a more straightforward judge. Again, this demonstrates that while Quintilian has high standards of speaking and writing, he is not unreasonably steeped in rules. On the contrary, Quintilian recognizes that style— including the use of “proper” words—needs to be altered depending upon what the rhetorical situation demands from the rhetor.
III.c Considering Subject Matter
Along with time and audience, Quintilian also sees the need to adapt language according to the subject matter. The reader can most easily observe this in book ten of de
Institutio where Quintilian suggests a comprehensive reading list by subject matter 55
(10.1.20-131). However, in all of these subjects Quintilian remarks upon which virtues should be employed by his orator and which should be left alone. For instance, we find him state about poetry:
namquam ab his in rebus spiritus et in verbis sublimitas et in adfectibus motus omnis et in personis décor petitur, praecipueque velut attrita cotidiano actu forensic ingenia optime rerum talium iucunditate reparantur (10.1.27).
From the poets we can get inspiration in thought, sublimity in language, every kind of emotional effect, and appropriateness in character drawing; above all, minds jaded by the daily wear and tear of the course are excellently refreshed by the delightfulness of such things.
However, in the same paragraph, Quintilian is quick to follow with: Meminerimus tamen non per omnia poetas esse oratori sequendos [but let us remember that the orator should not follow the poet in everything; 10.1.28] and continues to list which virtues of poetry would be vices in oratory with special emphasis on the overuse of figures in the latter
(10.1.27). The same approach is taken with the treatment of history. Quintilian recognizes that history has many benefits to offer (mainly its “sweet” eloquence) but is not designed for the “practical effect” at which the orator should aim (10.1.31). Next comes the discussion on philosophy in which Quintilian, who feels that Philosophy is too abstract, states altercationibus atque interrogationibus oratorem futurum optime [Socratici] praeparant [[Philosophers] provide the future orator with an excellent preparation from cross-examination and debate; 10.1.35] but again quickly clarifies his intentions:
Sed his quoque adhibendum est simile iudicium, ut etiam cum in rebus versemur isdem, non tamen eandem esse condicionem sciamus litium ac disputationum, fori et auditorii, praeceptorum et periculorum (10.1.36). 56
But here too we need similar critical judgment, so as to understand that, even when we are concerned with the same matters, the conditions are not the same in legal cases as in philosophical debate, in the courts as in the lecture room, in theoretical training as in real jeopardy.
We see that Quintilian is masterfully able not only to recite the rules of rhetoric (both elementary and advanced), but to also recognize the need for flexibility in drafting speeches as required by the subject. His goal is not necessarily focused on the preservation of sophisticated Latin speech, but to develop a clear message that will most effectively address an educated audience in the law courts, but he clearly understands that different rules may come into play in other fields of rhetoric. Thus, when Quintilian tells the orator to ask himself quid res poscat, quid personam deceat, quod sit tempus, qui iudicis animus [What the circumstances demand, what is appropriate to the person speaking, the time, and the judge’s attitude; 10.3.15] we can see that he has been consistently suggesting these themes all along. Although this explication has been extensive, it was necessary to depict the contextual aspect of Quintilian which is often overlooked. Recall Camper’s statement that:
Besides directly opposing Cicero, Augustine’s advice also opposes Quintilian’s position that “we must not accept as a rule of language any bad habits which have become ingrained in people. I shall therefore define Usage in speech as the consensus of the educated, just as the Usage of life is the consensus of the good.”
Again, the advice to which Camper is referring is found in book four of de Doctrina
Christiana and is telling the preacher to prioritize clarity over eloquence:
Cuius evidentiae diligens appetitus aliquando neglegit verba cultiora nec curat quid bene sonnet sed quid bene indicet atque intimet quod ostendere intendit (4.64). 57
The careful pursuit of this clarity sometimes leads one to neglect elegant vocabulary and consider not what sounds good but what is good for putting over and making clear what one has to say.
In isolation, these two quotes are certainly contradictory, but they become less contradictory when we compare the orators’ rhetorical situations.
III.d Quintilian and Augustine in Context
As shown above, Quintilian was writing to prepare an orator to address educated
Roman citizens in a courtroom for practical legal issues. Augustine, on the other hand, is broadening his audience to those who are not formally educated. As Kennedy says, “the
Christian teacher or preacher should be able to instruct and move the illiterate and unlearned as well as the sophisticated and erudite” (Classical Rhetoric, 180). Therefore, when Augustine is preparing the readers of de Doctrina, he considers his circumstances
(teaching an uneducated audience), the speaker, the time period, and the judge’s attitude which has now become anyone “with ears to hear,” (Matthew 11:15) regardless of social status. Once we view Augustine’s rhetorical situation in this light, it is clear why he put so much emphasis on clarity. Even if an unlearned preacher were able to use sophisticated vocabulary correctly, there is strong reason to believe that the unlearned audience will not be able to decipher the message. It needs to be noted, however, that Augustine never recommends the preacher lower his standard of Latin language for the sake of his audience but merely recognizes the need to stress clarity in order to convey extremely complex ideas to an uneducated audience. The reader is left with the impression that
Augustine does not desire sermons to sound bad, but would prefer a simple term to confusion. We have seen a very similar standard of clarity in Quintilian, who makes it 58
clear that perspicuitas is both priority to and a requirement for eloquence. In other words,
Quintilian understands that a speech may be clear and lacking in eloquence but nothing can ever be eloquent and obscure, which is why he says:
Nobis prima sit virtus perspicuitas, propria verbis, rectus ordo, non in longum dilata conlusio, nihil neque desit neque superfluat: ita sermo et doctis probabilis et planus imperitis erit. Haec eloquendi observatio (8.2.22).
Let us then take, as the primary virtue, Lucidity, “proper” words, straightforward order, no long-delayed conclusion, nothing missing and nothing too much. This will lead to language acceptable to the learned and plain to the unlearned. I am talking of course about Elocution.
Lucidity is held as the highest virtue for both Quintilian and Augustine. There can be no doubt that Quintilian lays more stress on the use of “proper words” than Augustine would, but they are merely calling attention to what their rhetorical situation demands. Of course
Quintilian wants the orator to speak in an educated style, given his educated audience, and of course Augustine does not want his preacher to speak over the heads of his uneducated congregation. However, they find common ground in agreeing that no language which obscures meaning should be used. For these reasons, I think it fair to revisit the claim that
Augustine “rejects” Quintilian in prioritizing perspicuitas over the use of educated language. On the contrary, both rhetoricians seem to agree that the most important aspect of a speech is to be understood. “In what way, then,” you may ask, “is Augustine more similar to Quintilian than to Aristotle or Cicero with regard to perspicuitas?” This question may be answered by returning to Augustine’s application of obscuritas to the
Scriptures. 59
The greatest, and most long overdue, finding from Camper’s article is Augustine’s recognition of obscuritas as a necessary stylistic tool within the Scriptures. In fact,
Camper provides excellent reason to challenge previous research that may have oversimplified how obscuritas functions for Augustine. For instance, Camper points to
Steven Oberhelman who says, “In the de Doctrina Christiana, Augustine states that the model of Christian homiletic style should be the Scriptures" (117). However, it has been clear that the obscure passages from the Scriptures are not Augustine’s examples for the preacher in finding eloquence. Furthermore, Johanna Hartelius claims that Augustine discusses how the Scriptures use different types of style—grand, mixed, and subdued— and “encourages the teachers to model theirs accordingly” (68). The most interesting point of dispute is where Camper quotes the authority Alexander Kennedy in arguing, “As to the virtues of style as seen in the Scriptures or practiced by a Christian, clarity is the only real consideration" (178). However, as Camper has shown, Augustine plainly has one set of stylistic rules for the Scriptures which may involve obscuritas, and another set for the preacher which necessitates clarity. The place where Camper overreachers, I believe, is in suggesting Augustine’s views on obscuritas diverge from Quintilian.
In Camper’s article, we see both Aristotle and Cicero treat obscurity more liberally than Quintilian has been shown to do. Camper addresses the fact that Aristotle would condone using obscure language if it was necessary to win the favor of the audience.
Furthermore, Camper asserts “Cicero also seems to exhibit a notion, however underdeveloped, that stylistic clarity and obscurity can be used strategically.” Cicero’s de
Oratore is quoted by Camper: 60
An introduction is an address which directly and in plain language makes the auditor well-disposed, receptive, and attentive. Insinuation is an address which by dissimulation and indirection obtrusively steals into the mind of the auditor (1.15.20).
Quintilian, on the other hand, recognizes that there are different sets of rules depending upon the genre, but never explicitly clarifies these rules (a point which is recognized by
Camper). Thus, while we cannot say Quintilian would agree with Augustine’s allowance for obscuritas as a rhetorical tool in the Scriptures, we cannot say Quintilian would disagree with the idea either. What we may conclude, however, is that both Quintilian and
Augustine appear to treat obscurity much more conservatively than Aristotle or Cicero.
While Aristotle would allow for “unfamiliar language” to win the good graces of the audience, neither Quintilian nor Augustine give evidence that they would allow for the same “unfamiliar language” to reach the same goal. Augustine, perhaps, would allow for unfamiliar language if it somehow made a message more clear but, then again, so would
Quintilian. Furthermore, we may conclude that Cicero used obscuritas as a helpful tool to distract an audience from facts that may not be convenient to a legal case. This seems a bit too deceptive for Quintilian to endorse and in the one instance where Augustine allows obscuritas, it is not to hide but to illuminate a deeper and eternal meaning—a rhetorical situation that Quintilian never had to grapple with himself. Therefore, it is easy to see that
Quintilian and Augustine’s conservative treatment of obscuritas is not only similar for the practical speaker—Quintilian’s orator and Augustine’s preacher—and in the one instance where they do seem to part ways, we cannot actually measure by how far. This is due to the fact that Quintilian is writing as a citizen of a human society whereas Augustine is 61
writing as a citizen of the Kingdom of God. Thus, to say one would have disagreed with the other does neither justice.
IV. Conclusion
In this chapter we have seen several things: first, obscuritas was analyzed as it is found in Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria. Then, obscuritas was analyzed as it is found in
Augutine’s de Doctrina Christiana. Finally, we revisited Camper’s recent publication which suggests wider differences between the two rhetoricians than their texts warrant. A close reading of obscuritas in de Institutio Oratoria showed that Quintilian holds perspicuitas as the primary stylistic virtue of his ideal orator and that reaching perspicuitas is not accomplished by performing certain actions, but rather by avoiding certain vices that compose obscuritas. We have seen that Augustine regards obscuritas as a stylistic tool that is permitted by the authors of the Scriptures. However, we also clarified the restraints given to obscuritas for the modern preacher, according to
Augustine. Finally, the last section of this chapter analyzed a segment of Camper’s article which suggests that Augustine rejects Quintilian’s rhetorical standards of language by prioritizing perspicuitas. This thesis, however, argues that both rhetoricians urge their speaker, first and foremost, to avoid obscuritas. Furthermore, it was shown that while
Augustine does broaden the horizon for obscuritas in the Scriptures, we have no way of knowing what Quintilian would have said about this rhetorical context. Regardless, it is clear that both Quintilian and Augustine are more conservative than Aristotle or Cicero in their treatment of obscuritas. Aristotle may allow obscurity to win favour from the audience and Cicero hints that it may be used to distract from inconvenient facts. 62
Augustine, however, never wishes to use obscuritas for such a lofty goal as winning over an audience and certainly does not seek to hide anything from his audience. Augustine, though, sees obscuritas as a rhetorical tool in dealing with the eternal messages of the
Scriptures and sincerely believes that the obscurity will ultimately lead to a deeper clarity for the zealous reader. Thus, we find that while Quintilianic theory may not have had an overt influence of Augustine, the two treat obscuritas more similarly than what research currently suggests.
In this chapter, we have observed a few similarities between Quintilian and
Augustine. In the next chapter, however, we will turn our attention to their differences.
More specifically, we will see what constituted gravitas in Pagan rhetoric and compare this term with how it functions in Christian rhetoric just three centuries later. 63
Chapter Three: Gravitas
This chapter is dedicated to the exploration of how the technical term gravitas functions in Pagan and Christian rhetoric. First, we will attempt to define what gravitas meant in Roman antiquity in order to contextualize how it may be interpreted for
Quintilian. Once we have understood the various connotations associated with gravitas in
Roman Antiquity, we will be prepared to analyze how the term functions in book eight and ten of the de Institutio Oratoria. It will be plainly seen that Quintilian uses gravitas strictly as a stylistic tool in these two books and, in fact, this holds true for the overall part of his entire work. Furthermore, we will discover that gravitas operates as a type of serious tone that respects the weight or importance of the issue in discussion. In order to accomplish this task we will contrast the term with other technical terms provided by
Quintilian. Finally, we shall view a few examples of gravitas not in comparison with other technical terms, but as it functions independently in books eight and ten of de
Institutio. Once this definition has been provided, we will press forward to book four of de Doctrina Christiana in order to analyze how Augustine uses gravitas. As he is less inclined than Quintilian to explicate rhetorical rules, Augustine is less prone to explicate technical vocabulary. Therefore, we will go through various examples of the technical term in order to clarify what Augustine means by gravitas. It will be argued that, for
Augustine, gravitas is not a tone which corresponds to the rhetorical situation, but rather describes a particular mindset that is capable of discerning substance in argument. In the last section of this chapter, we will take Quintilian’s and Augustine’s definition of the 64
technical term gravitas and compare them. This will provide valuable insight into how the term operates with regard to eloquence in Pagan and Christian rhetoric, respectively.
The term gravitas is frequently used in modern scholarship (in the original Latin) to convey ideas about dignity, importance, authority, or any number of the other connotations associated with the word. Thus, it is important that we continuously challenge our understanding of words not by asking, “What do these terms mean to us?” but by asking, “What did these terms mean to them?” Therefore, we will now turn our attention to understanding what gravitas meant in the Roman world.
I. Gravitas in Roman Antiquity
As mentioned, there has been a large amount of modern scholarship incorporating the technical term gravitas, however there has been little research into the word itself.
Furthermore, very few authors using gravitas bother to clarify how the term would have been defined by a Roman mind. For example, in his article “Cicero and the Spectacle of
Power,” Andrew Bell admires Cicero’s “majestically wheedling play with legalistic vocabulary” which denotes “constitutional gravitas” (8). In another instance, Christopher
Stray discusses the origins of the “Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies,” and states that the initial “meeting was chaired by Frederic Kenyon, Director of the British
Museum, whose official position provided both gravitas and neutrality” (1). Consider, lastly, John Ramsey who summarizes a passage from Tacitus and states that “[Tacitus] credits the emperor Tiberius with restoring gravitas to the courts when he came to power”
(36). The author’s do not define the term gravitas largely because the Latin term has become assimilated into the English language, much like other Latin terms such as bovine 65
or ambidextrous. In all of the examples provided above, gravitas takes the usual definition of “weighty” or “important.” The problem, however, is that the assumed English definition of gravitas tends to gloss over a technical term in Latin with complexities worth investigating.
Fortunately, one author touches on the nuanced connotations gravitas tends to carry. In treating the character of the patronus, essentially a defender in the law courts,
Jeremy Tanner provides a concise definition of gravitas:
The patronus in whom one could have such confidence was characterized by gravitas, a weightiness which was once exterior and physical as well as intellectual and moral, manifested in reduced emotional expression and constancy (Constantia) in all circumstances in one’s dealings with clients, gravity of style (graviter dicere, sentential gravitis), and certain moral rigour or servitas, both in one’s personal conduct and in one’s dealings with clients (33).
Tanner has provided an in-depth definition of gravitas that encompasses more than just the idea of “credibility” or “importance.” Rather, we find that gravitas has been used to reference qualities that are physical, moral, intellectual, and stylistic. In fact, we observe all of these definitions associated with gravitas in classical texts. Take, for example, book four of the Bellum Gallico, where Caesar discusses the difficulty the Suevi had in expelling the
German tribe from their lands:
Hos cum Suevi multis saepe bellis experi propter amplitudem gravitatem civitis finibus expellere non potuissent… (4.3.4).
The Suevi, though trying often with many wars, were not able to expel [the Germanic tribe] due to the size and substance of the state. 66
In this context, we find gravitas acting as a description of the physical power or density of the German army. However, this is not an isolated definition of gravitas operating in such a way. Consider also Cicero’s use of the term to denote a physical quality in Tusculanae
Disputationes. Cicero asks why medicine for the body is more highly pursued than medicine for the mind:
an quod corporis gravitatem et dolorem animo iudicamus, animi morbum corpore non sentimus? (3.1.2).
or is it because we judge the diseased condition and pain of the body with the mind, but do not sense the sickness of the mind through the body?
Here, we find gravitatem to stand for a negatively physical attribute, but physical nonetheless. Another way gravitas is typically used, and arguably a more common way, is to stand for a moral quality or virtue of the speaker.
We may see several examples in classical texts which confirm that gravitas was a very important quality to Roman aristocracy and was a highly sought after quality constituting a virtue of man. Andrew Wallace-Hadrill points out that Pliny includes gravitas among his list of twenty perfect virtues, outlined in the Panegyric (312). We may also turn to Cicero’s Epistolarum ad Quintem Fratem where he writes:
de virtute et gravitate Caesaris, quam in summo dolore adhibuisset, magnam ex epistula tua accepi voluptatem (3.8.3).
About the virtue and dignity of Caesar, which he had turned to in the greatest sorrow, I received with great pleasure.
In this context, it is clear that Cicero is praising the admirable qualities of Caesar and that gravitas is one of these praiseworthy attributes. J.J. Eyre even states that gravitas was one 67
of the goals in the Roman educational system which was “not so much for intellectual achievement as for a clearly envisaged type of character, summed up in the word gravitas”
(47). Micheal Appuzo defines gravitas as a “sense of importance of the task, responsibility and earnestness” (219), a quality that he argues was essential for a leadership position in
Roman Antiquity. Finally, in their book, “A Companion to Roman Rhetoric,” William
Dominik and Jon Hall succinctly define gravitas as “dignified authority” (27) when referring to human virtue. For now, this general idea of gravitas is all that is necessary to move forward. We simply need to understand that when the Roman mind thought about a person having gravitas, that person would be associated with dignity and authority. In other words, possessing gravitas inherently came with a bit of caché. With regard to rhetoric, however, we frequently observe Quintilian using the technical term gravitas not to suggest a virtue of the speaker, but rather a stylistic tool used by the speaker. In the following section, we will turn our attention to these specifically rhetorical ideas of gravitas.
II. Gravitas in Quintilian
In this section, we will clarify how gravitas functions as a stylistic description for
Quintilian. Table 3 is a compilation of each occurrence of the noun gravitas, the corresponding adjective graves, -e, and the rare adverbial form graviter as found in books eight and ten of de Institutio Oratoria, along with their English translation. With this table, we will observe that Quintilian uses gravitas mostly to refer to appropriate seriousness in tone. More specifically, we will use the information from Table 3 to build a general idea of the rhetorical content of the technical term gravitas by examining instances in which the 68
author juxtaposes gravitas with two other terms—urbanitas and iucundus. Then, we will look at various instances of gravitas to see how the term consistently means a particular type of stylistic seriousness that denotes “weight” or “severity.”
Table 3 Gravitas, -atis in book eight and ten, de Institutio Oratoria
i) 8.3.8 …ubi plena messis aut graves fructu vites erunt.
…where there is a full havest or vines weighed down with fruit.
ii) 8.3.25 … quae etiam in picturis est gravissima…
…which also in pictures is more impressive…
iii) 8.3.40 Nam primum est ut liqueat augere quid velimus an minuere, concitate dicere an moderate… graviter an urbane:
For first it should be clear whether we wish to augment or diminish, to speak excitedly or moderately…seriously or light heartedly.
iv) 8.3.43 Itaque vult esse auctoritatem in verbis, sententias vel graves vel aptas opinionibus hominum ac moribus.
And so [Cicero] calls for authority in the words, and substantive or correct sentiments with regard to the opinions and character of people.
v) 8.4.19 … quo graviora videantur quae secutura sunt…
…so that which follows may appear even more serious…
vi) 8.5.35 … quia de ornatu orationis gravior videbatur locus et maiori operi reservandus.
…because Ornament seemed more serious so its place (for discussion) needs to be reserved for the major part of the work. 69
vii) 10.1.46 Idem laetus ac pressus, iucundus et gravis, tum copia tum brevitate mirabilis, nec poetica modo sed oratoria virtute eminentissimus.
Both joyful and concise, light hearted and serious, marvelous at one time in his fullness and in his brevity, the most eminent not only in poetry but also in the virtues of oratory. viii) 10.1.53 Contra in Antimacho vis et gravitas et minime vulgare eloquendi genus habet laudem.
On the other hand, the force, the substance and the brevity of Antimacho for which he has praise. ix) 10.1.66 Tragoedias primus in lucem Aeschylus protulit, sublimis et gravis et grandilocus saepe usque ad vitium, sed rudis in plerisque et incompositus:
First, the Tragedies, Aeschuylus brought forth into light, with sublimity and seriousness and grandiloquent often all the way up to a fault, but with rudeness and in many ways disordered. x) 10.1.68 quod ipsum reprehendunt quibus gravitas et coturnus et sonus Sophocli videtur esse sublimior
Because they find fault with him, those to whom it seems the seriousness, tragic grandeur and sound of Sophocles to be more sublime. xi) 10.1.97 Tragoediae scriptores veterum Accius atque Pacuvius clarissimi gravitate sententiarum, verborum pondere, auctoritate personarum.
The writers of Tragedy, Accius and Pacuvius are the most distinguished of the ancients in terms of seriousness of thought, weight of words, and authority of character. xii) 10.1.115 sed est et sancta et gravis oratio et castigata et frequenter vehemens quoque.
But it is pure, serious and chaste, and frequently passionate too. 70
xiii) 10.1.116 …qui, si ceteris virtutibus colorem et gravitatem orationis adiecisset, ponendus inter praecipuos foret.
…which if he had added color and seriousness of speech to the other excellences of oratory, he would be needing to be placed among those set above.
xiv) 10.2.23 …in asperis gravibusque causis ponderi rerum parum respondeant
…they respond insufficiently to the weight of the matter in terms of asperity and seriousness of the Cause.
As we see in Table 3, Quintilian uses the technical term gravitas a total of fourteen times in books eight and ten: six times in book eight; eight times in book ten. Most commonly, gravitas is used in the adjective form gravis in describing a noun, the adjective appearing nine times out of the total fourteen. As a noun, gravitas appears four times out of the fourteen total occurrences and, finally, we have one instance of the adverbial form graviter out of the fourteen total occurrences. Therefore, we see the adjective gravis accounts for sixty-four percent of the total occurrences, the noun gravitas accounts for twenty-nine percent of the total occurrences, and the adverb graviter accounts for seven percent of the total occurrences. In each case, too, gravitas functions as a virtuous quality of the orator’s thoughts or style, conveying a “serious” tone.
These uses suggest a rhetorical view of gravitas that can be best understood by examining the way Quintilian sets gravitas against two corresponding opposites— urbanitas and iucundus. By analyzing how gravitas functions in relation to these antonyms, we may start to clarify what role gravitas has in the rhetorical canon of style. 71
The first example may be found in 8.3 (Table 3.iii) in which Quintilian divides eloquence into two parts: a mental outline of what needs to be said and the physical arrangement of words to accomplish that task. With regard to the former, Quintilian states:
Nam primum est ut liqueat augere quid velimus an minuere, concitate dicere an moderate, laete an severe, abundanter an presse, aspere an leniter, magnifice an subtiliter, graviter an urbane (8.3.40).
First it should be clear whether we wish to augment or diminish, to speak with vigor or with restraint, with delight or with severity, abundantly or concisely, sharply or softly, grandly or subtly, seriously or with wit.
Quintilian claims that the orator must understand what style is appropriate to use before drafting a speech. Thus, we are given examples of different styles: augere and minuere, concitate and moderate…etc. At the very end, however, Quintilian gives us graviter an urbane. We may conclude, then, that for Quintilian, gravitas stands in direct opposition to the technical term urbane. Urbanitas, according to Perseus Digital Online Dictionary, has a few meanings but, in general, refers to “wit, humor, or pleasantry” (Crane).
Furthermore, Edwin Ramage has identified how urbanitas functions specifically in de
Institutio Oratoria and that Quintilian “does associate it with humor and speech” (406).
Quintilian uses urbanitas to refer to a type of light-hearted “wit” and “humor” and it serves as the opposite of gravitas. Therefore, we may reasonably deduce that gravitas refers to a type of “seriousness” or, perhaps, “solemnity” for Quintilian, which is consistent with the term’s definition in Roman Antiquity. This is further confirmed two books later in de Institutio, where Quintilian sets gravitas as opposite to another technical term, iucundus (Table 3:vii). 72
In 10.1, Quintilian praises the eloquence of Homer by listing all the qualities of style which the epic poet possesses, including those that are thought to be opposites:
Idem laetus ac pressus, iucundus et gravis, tum copia tum brevitate mirabilis, nec poetica modo sed oratoria virtute eminentissimus (10.1.46).
[Homer] is at the same time luxurious and concise, delightful and serious, marvelous with abundance and with brevity, the most eminating virtue not only in poetry but in oratory.
What is interesting for our purposes is the positioning of gravis as an opposite to iucundus, a term which tends to mean “pleasant, agreeable, or delightful” (Crane) or, as Russel translates, “charm” (4: 277). Thus, we may see that iucundus is similar in nature with urbanitas, which we have already described as being “witty” and “humorous.” Both terms tend to deal with a style that is “pleasant” or “light-hearted.” Thus, iucundus and urbanitas both reference a type of “light-hearted delight” while gravitas references a more serious, solemn tone. A good way to think about these terms as “opposites” is to think about the differences between the film genres Comedy and Drama. One is light-hearted and fun, the content of which usually requires little thought. Dramas, however, tend to be more serious in nature, slower paced, and usually require some type of emotional involvement.
At this point, we have a general conception of what Quintilian means by gravitas, but we will now turn our attention to a few examples from Table 3 in order to more clearly define the technical term. We will begin with the adjective form gravis and then look to the noun gravitas. After viewing these examples, it will be clear that while gravitas generally conveys a type of seriousness or solemnity, it denotes a more specific type of
“seriousness.” 73
Every example of the adjective gravis in Table 3 is used to describe the serious nature of some noun. We will begin with Table 3:v in which Quintilian discusses strategies for amplifying the force of an argument:
Cum res atrocissimas quasque in summam ipsi extulimus invidiam elevamus consulto, quo graviora videantur quae secutura sunt… (8.4.19).
Or consider cases when we deliberately minimize some very outrageous event which we have ourselves exposed to the greatest odium, in order to make what is to follow seem even more serious.
Quintilian uses gravioria, the comparative of the adjective gravis, in order to show that we may amplify an argument’s seriousness or weight by casually addressing an antecedent. For example, suppose a man was charged with physically abusing animals.
The prosecutor could begin by saying, “Not only did the defendant regularly withhold food from his pets (the antecedent) but then he had the audacity to beat them for crying out from hunger!” Both animal mistreatment and animal abuse are terrible crimes, but the latter will appear an even more serious offense than if it was stated in isolation.
This idea may also be seen in Table 3:iv where Quintilian warns about the dangers of imitating only one author. Quintilian’s is concerned that the orator will develop a limited style and not be able to adapt to the demands of the rhetorical situation:
Si tenuitas aut iucunditas, in asperis gravibusque causis ponderi rerum parum responeant [if it is a delicate or an agreeable manner that attracts [an orator], he fails to respond to the asperous and serious cause; 10.2.23]. Just like in the previous example, we note that gravis is an adjective describing the seriousness of the cause leading up to the 74
case. In other instances, Quintilian uses the technical term gravis to describe a tone of speech or quality of thought in an orator.
In Table 3.iv, Quintilian is suggesting that eloquence should contain a certain amount aesthetic beauty but only in moderation. Pointing to Cicero as the model for this type of eloquence, Quintilian states:
Igitur ante omnia ne speremus ornatam orationem fore quae probabilis non erit. Probabile autem Cicero id genus dicit quod non nimis est comptum: non quia comi expolirique non debeat (name et haec ornatus pars est), sed quia vitium est ubique quod nimium est. Itaque vult esse auctoritatem in verbis, sententias vel graves vel aptas opinionibus homiminum ac moribus
First of all, then, let us not expect any style to possess Ornament which is not itself acceptable. An acceptable style, according to Cicero, is one which is not too well dressed. It is not that style should not be spruced up and polished (that too is a part of Ornament), but excess is everywhere a vice. And so [Cicero] calls for authority in the words, and serious or correct sentiments with regard to the opinions and character of people; 8.3.42-43].
Quintilian is plainly demonstrating (through the words of Cicero) that eloquence should be “spruced up and polished” (comi exolirique) but should also have serious or correct sentiments (sententias vel graves vel aptas). Style should be the balance between ornament and seriousness, the latter being portrayed through the term gravis. The type of
“seriousness” to which we are referring, however, should not be misconstrued in this context as merely “light hearted” or “jovial.” Instead, this particular seriousness implies the weight or magnitude of the issue being discussed. It would be like the difference between saying, “You are in a serious mood today” and “The victim suffered serious injuries.” When we suggest that gravis means “seriousness,” we cannot lose the idea of 75
weight or importance that comes along with it. The same idea is portrayed when
Quintilian is describing the serious tone of speech. Consider Table 3.xii in which
Quintilian describes the style of Calvus stating that est et sancta et gravis oratio et castigata et frequenter vehemens quoque [The style is both solemn and serious and chaste and often also energetic; 10.1.115]. Here, again, we find that “serious” makes a smoother translation but only if thought of in the same way we would say that something is a “serious threat” to mean that the threat is important enough to consider. In fact, in every instance of Table 3 where the adjective gravis is used, we may always observe this idea of something being this particular type of seriousness. When we turn our attention to the noun gravitas, then, it should be no surprise that the technical term functions largely in the same way.
Gravitas occurs in books eight and ten a total of four times. In each instance, the technical term functions as a noun to denote the idea of “serious.” For example, in Table
3.viii Quintilian is discussing the stylistic merits of Antimachus and says that in
Antimacho vis et gravitas et minime vulgare eloquendi genus habet laudem [in
Antimachus it is the force, weight, and distinguished language which earn praise;
10.1.53]. This example brings us very close to the conception of gravitas as being a virtuous quality in the Roman leader and, in fact, this should not surprise us. It is slightly different, however, because Quintilian is not saying gravitas is a personality trait which
Antimachus possesses, but rather a trait of his style. The words of Antimachus carry
“weight,” meaning they are very important. It is in the truth of these words that the style 76
becomes not only beautiful, but powerful. This same definition is easily observed in
Table 3.x, xi, and xii.
In conclusion, we have constructed the general definition of gravitas as representing a type of “seriousness” by seeing the term set opposite to urbanitas and iucundus. Then, to deepen our understanding of gravitas, we looked at the examples of gravis (the adjective form) and found that the type of “seriousness” to which we are referring denotes the idea of “weighty” or “important.” Next, we viewed one example of the noun gravitas and found that, unsurprisingly, it functions in the same way as the adjective. This was largely expected because of the classical definition of gravitas meaning “important” or “distinguished.” The difference, however, is that Quintilian does not use gravitas in describing a virtuous quality the orator possesses to improve his ethos, but rather uses gravitas as a virtue of style. This having been established, we may now analyze how the same technical term functions for Augustine in book four of de Doctrina
Christiana.
III. Augustine and Gravitas
In this section, we will attempt to clarify how gravitas functions as a stylistic tool for Augustine. To assist the reader, Table 4 is a compilation of each occurrence of the noun gravitas, the corresponding adjective graves, and the rare adverbial form graviter found in book four de Doctrina Christiana, along with the English translations. With this table, I will argue that Augustine uses gravitas not as a stylistic tool, but rather as a way to refer to a “serious frame of mind” for an individual or group who is correctly able to discern substance from appearance. Due to the fact that Augustine is less concerned with 77
explicating rhetorical rules, he typically does not employ technical vocabulary with the same amount of precision as we find in Quintilian; therefore, in order to better understand what Augustine means by the “serious minded” individual or group, we will do a close reading of the most important examples in Table 4 below.
Table 4 Gravitas, -atis in book four of de Doctrina Christiana
i) 4.7 Non enim…nos ea tanti pendimus ut eis discendis iam maturas vel etiam graves hominum aetates velimus impendi.
…for certainly we do not consider it enough that we would wish for the already mature and serious (advanced) years of man to be devoted to learning it… ii) 4.44 Nonne facilius graves homines me nimium quam quisquam studiosorum sibi sufficientem putaret?
Surely serious men would more easily think I am going too far than anyone of the studied men think me satisfying them? iii) 4.47 …qui sermonem praesentis contemptibilem putari volebant, graves et fortes esse confessi sunt.
…who were wishing him to be thought as a contemptible speaker in person, confessed him to be serious (strong) and powerful. iv) 4.84 a In populo autem gravi…
In a serious crowd (congregation)… v) 4.84 b …“in populo gravi laudabo te”…
…“I shall praise you in a serious congregation”… vi) 4.84 c …quali nec magna atque stabilia decenter et graviter ornarentur.
…by which sort could not even ornament great and fixed things in a decent or serious way. 78
vii) 4.84 d …et ad eloquentiam graviorem modestioremque restrinxerit…
…and restricted it to a serious and modest eloquence… viii) 4.85 ...sed profusione nimia gravitati displicent.
…but with too much looseness displeases the serious (mind)… ix) 4.114 …sed gravior interpres etiam ordinem maluit tenere verborum.
…but the more serious interpreter also wishes to hold the order of the words... x) 4.116 Sed cavendum est ne divinis gravibusque sententiis, dum additur numerus, pondus detrahatur.
But caution needs to be taken lest weight is taken from divine and serious sentiments, while rhythm is added. xi) 4.129 … “corde humilis, verbis gravis, animi prudens, loquendi parcior,…”
…“humble in heart, serious with words, prudent of mind, more brief in speaking”… xii) 4.131 …“gravis prioris artificis iniuria et iusta indignatio videretur…”
…“this would appear a more serious injustice to the painter and with just indignation”…
The first thing that strikes the reader immediately is that Augustine has all but done away with using the noun gravitas and uses the adjective form gravis ten times out of the twelve occurrences; the noun gravitati is used once; and the adverb graviter is used once as well. Furthermore, the one instance of the noun form is used to represent a group of people (which will be observed later) and functions much like an adjective. This suggests that whatever we find gravis to mean for Augustine, it will likely be used as a 79
description, rather than an idea in itself. For example, if we were asked to think of the color “blue” we would get a different image in our head than if we were asked to think of a “blue car.” The idea of “blue” stays constant in both scenarios, but when “blue” functions as an adjective our focus shifts to the noun (the car). There is some evidence, then, that Augustine views the idea of gravitas less as an objectified concept and more as a description of something else. The question that remains is “What noun is being modified?” Observing Table 4, we instantly find that gravis more frequently describes a whom rather than a what. After establishing, who is modified, we will be able to examine how these people(s) are modified. When we have understood the big picture of gravis with the who and the how, we will be able to look at the more rare instances of when the technical term is associated with inanimate objects to deepen our understanding of
Augustine’s gravis.
In book four, Augustine frequently uses gravis to describe a particular group of people, or an individual person. Since Augustine is most explicit with what he means by gravis when referring to a group of people, we should obviously begin our examination of the term in that context. Then, we will be able to examine whether there is any difference for gravis when associated with the individual. In 4.84 (Table 4:iv, v, and vi),
Augustine attributes gravi to the listeners, rather than the orator, and describes what characteristics this populo gravi will have:
In populo autem gravi, de quo dictum est deo, in populo gravi laudabo te, nec illa suavitas delectabilis est qua non quidem iniqua dicuntur sed exigua fragilia bona spumeo verborum ambitu ornantur, quali nec magna atque stabilia decenter et graviter ornarentur (4.84). 80
However, a serious congregation, about whom it was said to God, ‘I shall praise you in a serious congregation,” is not even delighted by an attractive style that is devoted not to presenting iniquity but to enhancing petty and perishable goods with frothy words, spoken in a round about way, the sort of style that could not speak about great and lasting things in a proper and serious way.
The reader has been given definitive information about how Augustine uses the technical term gravis. The first point of interest is that the concept of gravis—whatever it may mean for Augustine—has been expanded not only from the individual to the group, but from an orator to his audience. Augustine has taken the gravis homo and opened the door for the populo gravi. Furthermore, Augustine defines the common characteristic people posses that will make them part of the populo gravi: those who are able to distinguish depth of content from the tempting sweetness of a shallow delivery; in other words, those who may discern the difference between substance and appearance. Augustine is plainly stating that the populo gravi will not be attracted to an empty style that is not able to describe eternal goods properly (decenter) and seriously (graviter). For Augustine, then, the populo gravi is an accumulation of individuals who each possess correct or serious judgment of depth. What is fascinating, however, is that this has become the only qualification for gravis. This point becomes clear if we turn our attention to Table 4:ii.
Augustine had just finished praising the stylistic merits of the apostle Paul and realizes that the discussion has probably gone on long enough. Thus, he cuts the conversation short stating:
Longum est cetera persequi vel in aliis sanctarum scripturarum locis ista monstrare. Quid si etiam figures locutionis quae illa 81
arte traduntur in his saltem quae de apostoli eloquio commemoravi ostendere voluissem? Nonne facilius graves homines me nimium quam quisquam studiorsorum sibi sufficientem putaret? (4.44).
It would be long to follow the rest (of the examples) or to show this in other places of the sacred Scriptures. What if I wished to show the figures of speech which are handed down by that art (the rhetorical textbooks) which are anyhow in these, which remind us about Paul’s elouquence? Surely it would be easier for serious- minded men to think I went too far than for any of the learned men to think it sufficient for them.
In this passage, Augustine completely turns the traditional view of gravis on its head.
Augustine has created a new divide between “serious-minded men” (graves hominess) and “learned men” (quisquam studiorsorum). As we saw above in 4.84, Augustine attributes gravis to describe a person who may properly discern and appreciate the substance of a message over empty eloquence. Additionally, Augustine states here that there are no educational limitations to acquiring this ability. In fact, Augustine goes so far as to suggest that there are many educated men who are not a part of the gravis homines.
The underlying message of this passage suggests that Christians, regardless of education and, consequently social status, understand something that the elite simply do not. In other words, Augustine is stating that the poverty stricken farmers, fishermen, even beggars, are more capable of possessing that aristocratic virtue than the scholars, the wealthy, or the aristocrats themselves.
Since gravis modifies the populo gravi—and the gravis homines—in such a way that it refers to a group of individuals with a common characteristic, it should be no 82
surprise that gravis functions the same way when Augustine uses it to describe a specific individual.
In book 4.114 (Table 4:iv), Augustine discusses a problem faced by all translators: whether or not to sacrifice the integrity of the text in order to make the translation seemingly more eloquent. We see this in English on a regular basis. In fact, we find many versions of the Bible written in various ways, each promising to be more beneficial to the reader in terms of comprehension, precision, or some other chosen standard. Augustine recognized this difficulty for translating the Bible into Latin. More specifically, Augustine calls attention to the last verse in Romans 13:12-14, which was translated into Latin as:
Sed induite dominum Iesum Christum, et carnis providentiam ne feceritis in concupiscentiis (Roman 13: 14).
But assume the Lord Jesus Christ, and be cautious of the flesh lest you act in desire.
Augustine, being rhetorically trained, immediately recognizes that the Latin wording is not as eloquent as it could be. To better understand the criticism, it is important to remember that the syllable count and rhythm was more crucial for Latin prose than we are accustomed to in English. Thus, Latin was spoken not only in words, but in an expected rhythm containing the appropriate amount of “feet,” or syllables. For a native
Latin speaker, specifically Augustine’s educated critics, it would have been obvious how these rhythms were ineloquent. For this reason, Augustine readily admits that the translator could have made the passage more aesthetically beautiful:
Quod si quisquam ita diceret, ‘et carnis providentiam ne in concupiscentiis feceritis’, sine dubio aures clausae numerosiore 83
mulceret; sed gravior interpres etiam ordinem maluit tenere verborum (4.114).
But if anyone had said, ‘and be cautious of the flesh lest in desire you act’, it would have appeased the ears by the more rhythmic conclusion; but the more serious minded translator preferred to keep the order of the words
The subtlety of syntax change is beyond the scope of this discussion. Rather, we must recognize Augustine’s overall message: the gravior interpres preferred to keep the original word order rather than sacrifice the integrity of the message. The gravior interpres is the translator who is able to discern depth of content over beauty of sound, substance over appearance. So far, however, we have only covered one aspect of gravis: how it is used to describe the mindset of a group of people who understand the depth of the Scriptures.
Now, we must turn our attention to gravis as it is used to refer to the words or sentiments of the Scriptures themselves.
As we have seen, Augustine tends to use gravis in two ways: one for the listener, and one for the content of the Christian teachings. While the former has been discussed, we may see two examples of the latter in book four. First, we may observe this different usage of gravis from Table 4.iii. Here, Augustine references 2 Corinthians 10.10 to argue that even though the apostle Paul’s enemies wanted him to be a poor orator in person, they had no choice but to take his message seriously (Table 4:iii):
Certe si quid eius proferimus ad exemplum eloquentiae, ex illis epistolis utique proferimus quas etiam ipsi obtrectatores eius, qui sermonem prasentis contempibilem putari volebant, graves et fortes esse confessi sunt (4.47). 84
Certainly if we produce anything of [Paul’s] as an example of eloquence from those letters which even those detractors themselves, who were wishing him to be thought contemptible as a speaker in person, confessed them to be serious and powerful.
This shows us a different side of gravis than we had seen before. More specifically, the technical term no longer refers to a type of correct judgment. Instead, it appears to mean a type of substance found in the apostle’s eloquence; a type of depth that demanded attention and, ultimately, respect for the apostle. One point needs to be emphasized before pressing forward: According to the Latin, it is not Paul who is considered graves, but rather his message, which Augustine argues is the exemplum eloquentiae. We know this because graves is the plural form of the adjective which does not correspond with Paul, but rather with the contents ex illis epistolis [from those letters]. This is an important distinction to make because it is not the depth of the speaker, but rather the depth of the content that is described as gravis. We find the same definition from Table 4.x, when Augustine again describes the problem with translating the Bible from Greek to Latin. However, in this instance, the focused has shifted from the translator (graviorem interpres) to the content being translated:
Sed cavendum est ne divinis gravibusque sententiis, dum additur numerus, pondus detrahatur (4.116).
But caution needs to be taken lest weight is taken away from divine and substantive meaning, while rhythm is added.
Note that before, gravis had been used to describe the translator who would be able to convey the meaning of the Holy Scriptures, without knowledge of rhetorical rules of style.
Now, however, we have the same technical term referring to the divine sententiis, to the 85
substance of the message. We do not need to search far to understand what this “substance” is for Augustine: salvation through the Christian experience. In essence, we may conclude that Augustine has kept the classical notion of gravitas as a term referring to a substantive individual or group, but has broadened the definition of the technical term— by now including the mental ability to correctly discern truth—and has redefined what may be considered substantive—speaking about the divinely inspired messages of the Holy Spirit.
Before concluding this section, however, we will first look at a few examples from Table 4 in which gravis is neither attributed to individuals, groups, or the content of the Holy
Scriptures to see if we may learn anything more about the technical term.
There are a few instances in book four of de Doctrina which appear, at first glance, to treat gravis in a different way than has been explained above. For instance, Table 4.i provides an example of Augustine telling men not to waste their time to study the rules of eloquence in their old age:
Non enim, etiamsi possint haec a tardioribus tandem aliquando perdisci, nos ea tanti pendimus ut eis discendis iam maturas vel etiam graves hominum aetates velimus impendi (4.7).
For certainly, even if these rules were able to be learned by the intellectually slow, we do not consider it important enough that we would wish for the already mature and substantive years of man to be devoted to learning them.
At first glance, gravis here is used to describe a specific period of human life rather than correct judgment of depth of content. In fact, Greene translates graves here as
“advanced”, which even more narrowly gives the impression of graves relating to the biological age. When read in context, Augustine had just said that these rules which 86
constitute eloquence should be read independently of de Doctrina at a suitable time in life
(4.6) and continues to say that these same tedious rules should be read when one is young enough to have the leisure to do so (4.8). The assumption is that, after a certain age, one has more pressing responsibilities in their interior formation and in their dedication to the church than to worry about the proper usage of figures and tropes. Therefore, we may reasonably conclude that Augustine views those “advanced years” to be more important, more serious, more substantive than in the time of idle youth. When read through this lens, gravis still retains the same central idea of substance focused on the church—for again, Augustine would assume the graves hominum aetates to be devoted to a study of the Christian teachings—keeping the definition of the term generally consistent with its regular usage.
The last example that we will examine is from Table 4.vii. Augustine explains the overly lofty style of Cyprian, bishop of Carthage in the third century C.E., by stating that shallow eloquence was allowed (or intentional) to serve as an example to future generations that he was later saved from such empty rhetoric:
Est tale aliquid in epistola beatissimi Cypriani, quod ideo puto vel accidisse vel consulto factum esse ut sciretur a posteris quam linguam doctrinae Christianae sanitas ab ista redundantia revocaverit et ad eloquentiam graviorem modestioremque restrinxerit… (4.84).
It is something like in the letter of the most blessed Cyprian, wit was allowed to happen, or done deliberately, so that future generations would know that his style was rescued from this exuberance by the soundess of the Christian doctrine and was restrained to a more serious and modest eloquence… 87
At first glance, this is reminiscent of the classical conception of gravitas as it is directly viewed as a stylistic tool: graviorem eloquentiam (a more serious eloquence). We must not confuse to whom—or rather, to what—Augustine is attributing this eloquence. For while Augustine suggests that Cyprian eventually restrains his loftier style, it is only through the example of true eloquence, as found in the Holy Scriptures, that Cyprian is able to do so. This is completely consistent with the other instances of gravis that have been found in book four, and affirms the fact that it functions as a technical term referring to the truth—or substance—of the Christian teachings or to the individual/group who possesses the mental capacity to recognize such substance as truth.
In conclusion, this section has provided an in-depth understanding of how the technical term gravis functions in book four of de Doctrina Christiana by examining several examples of the term as seen in Table 4. First, we analyzed the two instances in which Augustine attributes gravis to a group of individuals (populo gravi and graves homines). Here, we understood that Augustine broadened the conception of gravis not only in terms of sheer numbers (no longer just referring to the individual) but also by redefining who would be allowed to possess the quality—Christians, regardless of wealth or social status. Second, we observed how gravis is applied to individuals (gravis homo) to represent a person who is able to correctly judge a message’s substance as it aligns with the Christian teachings. Third, we saw that Augustine not only attributes gravis to those with good judgment, but also in reference to the substance of the truth as found in the divinely inspired Christian writings. While we found a dichotomy for gravis in reference to actual truth and those who can discern truth, we nonetheless observed that 88
the core notion of gravis is always centered around Christian teachings. Finally, to confirm this finding, we looked at two examples which, on the surface, appeared to challenge the definition we had established and clarified their consistency.
Now that we have firmly established how the technical term gravis operates for
Augustine, we are prepared to compare this idea of Christian gravitas with the Pagan concept of gravitas from earlier in the chapter to illuminate any processes of evolution the term may have undergone in its conversion.
IV. Conclusion
This chapter explored how the technical term gravitas functions differently in chapters eight and ten of Quintilian’s de Institutio and in book four of Augustine’s de
Doctrina. We began by seeking out the classical definition of gravitas and found that it is frequently used to denote a virtuous quality of a Roman leader meaning “dignity” or
“importance.” To the Romans, then, gravitas was a highly sought after characteristic.
Then, we identified occurrences of gravitas in all forms (noun, adjective, and adverb) in book eight and ten of de Institutio. We established that Quintilian uses gravitas to refer to something “serious,” conveying the idea of “substance.” This was similar to the classical notion of gravitas but functioned slightly differently. Rather than being a quality of the orator, Quintilian uses the technical term gravitas in books eight and ten as a virtue of eloquence. The adjective was used most frequently (eleven times) and translates into the idea of “substantive.” The noun, unsurprisingly, denotes the idea of “substance.”
Next, we turned to Augustine and found that in book four of de Doctrina, gravis
(the adjective) was almost exclusively used and, therefore, functioned as a description of 89
other nouns. When we explored what these nouns were, we found the adjective was used in two ways. Gravis may refer to a person or a group of people who could properly discern the “substance” in the Christian teachings, or gravis refered to the Christian orator who prioritizes “substance” over aesthetic beauty. Therefore, we have indeed seen the meaning of gravitas evolve from its classical root and function differently in
Christian rhetoric, with special regard to eloquence.
The most intriguing finding of this study is certainly the way in which Augustine redefines gravitas. Quintilian tends to use the technical term as expected: to denote a sense of stylistic seriousness. While this use of gravitas is slightly different than what we typically observe in the classical world (being attributed to an object, not a person), the meanings are close enough to make them two sides of the same coin. Augustine, however, uses the term gravitas in a completely new way. Gravis is no longer an object, but is used as an adjective to describe a particular characteristic. While this characteristic inherently retains the idea of “substance” the focus has shifted from the concept itself to the people who are able to appropriately discern what is substantive. Consequently, gravitas is no longer used exclusively for the speaker. In Quintilian, wherever gravitas was related to an individual, it was in relation to the orator. Augustine, however, by redefines gravitas to refer to judgment of texts, the audience may be allowed to be considered graves (populo gravi). In fact, even when gravis is related to the Christian orator in Augustine, it is attributed to the speaker who correctly emphasizes the wisdom of the message over aesthetic appeals. Furthermore, because this judgment only requires an audience to know the substance of Christian teachings, there are no educational or 90
economical limitations to becoming gravis. Quintilian could not have imagined a poor fisherman as having gravitas because it was a virtue of eloquence, learned by the citizen- orators. It was special quality because it was a rare quality. Augustine, on the other hand, would have no problem referring to a homeless man as gravis, assuming the homeless man was schooled in the Christian teachings. Augustine takes away the classical
“dignity” that comes along with gravitas and allows all of God’s followers to be considered graves.
In the following chapter, we will be turning our attention to a crucial component of classical and Christian rhetoric: imitatio. 91
Chapter Four: Imitatio
To begin this chapter, we will give a brief outline of imitatio in the classical world beginning with Plato. The concept of imitation for Plato was not rhetorical but, rather, was philosophical since everything is an imitation of ultimate reality, or truth. As C.S. Lewis states, “In Platonism, as everyone knows, the whole perceptible universe in space and time is an imitation, and product, of something different: the imperceptible, timeless, archetypal forms” (Studies in Words 38). Consequently, then, Plato argues in the Republic that since the goal of art (such as painting, poetry, theater) is a reproduction, or imitation, of real forms, art itself is naturally emptier than what it is attempting to replicate (X. 602). Plato’s student, Aristotle, comes to a similar conclusion about imitation but, as Dale Sullivan says,
“does not come to the same negative conclusions” (7). As may be observed in Aristotle’s
Poetics, the author does not view art as the imitation of universal truth, but rather as the reproduction of particular forms (ch. 2). Sullivan summarizes the Aristotelian goal for art when he states that “the artist’s greatest need is to be in contact with reality and to abstract from it a form that can be joined with a new medium in the art” (8). Eventually, however, imitation evolved from reproducing forms to imitating other artists (who were themselves reproducing forms) and, eventually, became used in Antiquity as a pedagogical tool.
Imitatio became more than just a reproduction of nature, but as a training exercise for Roman youth that would serve more than just one function. Teachers would read to students certain texts that could serve not only as a model of good rhetorical work, but also which would instill moral values (Clark 146). While some individual rhetoricians used imitation to achieve oratorical excellence more than others, there can be no doubt that 92
imitation became a widely taught and practice rhetorical tool (Sullivan 11). Among those who advocated imitation in Antiquity, Quintilian was one of the strongest, if not the most detailed in his treatise de Institutio Oratoria. Quintilian provides the reader with a straightforward, systematic method for how to properly imitate the style of past generations without producing artificial work. Therefore, this section will examine how the technical term imitatio functions in books eight and ten of de Institutio. We will accomplish this task in three steps. We will demonstrate the five drawbacks to imitatio if it is the only tool for becoming eloquent. We will also discuss the two questions which
Quintilian promises will guide the student to properly imitate worthy models: who should be followed and why; and what are we personally capable of reproducing. Finally, we will briefly touch upon the three last general guidelines which Quintilian gives the student for imitatio.
Now we may turn our attention to Table 5, a compiled list of every occurrence of imitatio (the noun “imitation”); imitator (the noun “imitator”); imitor (the verb “to imitate); imitandus (the gerundive “needing to be imitated”); imitatus (participle “imitating”); and imitabilis (adjective “imitatable”): 93
Table 5 Imitatio, -onis in books eight and ten of de Institutio Oratoria
i) 8.16 Hoc exercitatio petit, hoc imitatio, hic omnis aetas consumitur:
It seeks this with practice and with imitation, with this an entire lifetime is consumed.
ii) 8.3.20 Imitatus est itaque utrumque Horatius: “nascetur ridiculus mus.”
And so Horace is imitating both types: “A funny mouse will be born.”
iii) 8.3.43 ...atque imitatione rerum non abhorrentia.
…and not shrinking back from the imitation of the matter.
iv) 8.6.72 Quod imitatus Cicero illa compsuit in Verrem:
Cicero, imitating this, wrote in the Verrines:
v) 10.1.3 …atque hinc initium eius artis fuisse manifestum est, proximam deinde imitationem, novissimam scribendi quoque diligentiam.
…and beginning here his art to have been manifest, followed then by imitation, and lastly also with diligence of writing.
vi) 10.1.19 …ita lectio non cruda sed multa iteratione mollita et velut confecta memoriae imitationique tradatur.
…and so, let reading be handed over to the memory and to imitation, not in a crude way but those which are softened and refined by much repetition.
vii) 10.1.25 …ut deteriora imitentur (id enim est facilius)…
…so that they imitate the worse parts (which is easier)…
viii) 10.1.61 …propter quae Horatius eum merito nemini credit imitabilem. 94
…for that reason Horatius belives nothing with merit to be imitatable. ix) 10.1.74 …imitator Thucydidi et ut multo infirmior…
…an imitator of Thucydides and was much more feeble… x) 10.1.90 Lucanus ardens et concitatus et sententiis clarissimus et, ut dicam quod sentio, magis oratoribus quam poetis imitandus.
Lucan is ardent, passionate and the most distinguished in sentential and, if I may say what I feel, is needing to be imitated by orators more than by poets. xi) 10.1.108 …cum se totum ad imitationem Graecorum contulisset…
…since he had directed his whole self to the imitation of the Greeks… xii) 10.1.115 Imitator autem est Atticorum…
However, he is an imitator of the Attics… xiii) 10.1.116 Multa si cum iudicio legatur dabit imitatione digna Cassius Severus…
Cassius Severus will provide many worthy things for imitating if he would be read with judgment… xiv) 10.1.122 …et eos iuvenum ad optima tendentium imitatur ac sequitur industria.
…and those qualities of the young striving to the best imitate and follow their diligence. xv) 10.1.126 Amabant autem eum magis quam imitabantur, tantumque ab illo defluebant quantum ille ab antiquis descenderat.
The young loved him more than they imitated him, and fell as far below him as he had fallen below the ancients. xvi) 10.2.1 Neque enim dubitari potest quin artis pars magna contineatur imitatione. 95
And it is also not able to be doubted that a large part of this art is composed of imitation. xvii) 10.2.3 Similem raro natura praestat, frequenter imitatio.
Nature rarely sets us up as similar to them, though imitation frequently does.
xviii) 10.2.4 Ante omnia igitur imitatio per se ipsa non sufficit…
First off, though, all imitation is not sufficient by itself. xix) 10.2.7 Turpe etiam illud est, contentum esse id consequi quod imiteris.
It is also shameful to be content to have modeled that which you have imitated. xx) 10.2.8 …nihil autem crescit sola imitatione.
…nothing, however, grows by imitation alone. xxi) 10.2.11a Adde quod quidquid alteri simile est necesse est minus sit eo quod imitatur…
That which is similar to something else is necessarily to be less than that which it imitates… xxii) 10.2.11b contra omnis imitatio facta est et ad alienum propositum commodatur.
All imitation is done against this and is fit to another design. xxiii) 10.2.12 Adde quod ea quae in oratore maxima sunt imitabilia non sunt.
Again, those qualities which are the greatest in the orator are not able to be imitated… xxiv) 10.2.14 Primum, quos imitemur…
First, whom we imitate? xxv) 10.2.15 …atque utinam tam bona imitantes dicerent melius quam mala 96
peius dicunt.
…and if only those good imitators would speak better than the bad imitators speak worse. xxvi) 10.2.16 …et cum iis felicissime cessit imitatio…
…and when imitation equals fruitful things… xxvii) 10.2.18 Ergo primum est ut quod imitaturus est quisque intellegat, et quare bonum sit sciat.
Therefore, it is first that it should be understood those which would be imitated and then it should be known why it is good… xxviii) 10.2.19 Nam quaedam sunt imitabilia quibus aut infirmitas naturae non sufficiat aut diversitas repugnet:
For there are imitatable things with which either the weakness of his nature makes him not sufficient or which his difference may repel. xxix) 10.2.21 …in illis operibus oratores aut declamatores imitandos putemus.
we think oratores or declamers ought to be imitated in these works… xxx) 10.2.22 id imitemur quod commune est.
He should imitate that which is common. xxxi) 10.2.24- Sed non qui maxime imitandus et solus imitandus est. 25 But he who is most imitated should not be the only imitated. xxxii) 10.2.27a Imitatio autem (nam saepius idem dicam) non sit tantum in verbis.
Imitation however, (for I will often say this same thing) should not be merely in words. 97
xxxiii) 10.2.27b Haec si perviderimus, tum vere imitabimur.
These, if we we understand, then we will truly imitate.
xxxiv) 10.4.8 …quod imitari non possumus.
…which we will not be able to imitate.
xxxv) 10.4.19 …quod apud maiores fieri solebat, deligat quem sequatur, quem imitetur:
…which is often done among the ancients, should choose him to follow, and to imitate him.
Some form of the technical term imitatio presents itself a total of thirty-five times in book eight and ten: four time in book eight, and thirty-one times in book ten. In book eight, imitatio is used twice as a verb (Table 5.i;iii), and twice as a participle describing Horatius
(Table 5.ii) and Cicero (Table 5.iv). In book ten, we have many more occurrences of imitatio, eleven of which are in 10.2, eighteen in 10.2, and two in 10.4. There are no occurrences of imitatio in 10.3, 10.5, 10.6 or 10.7. Imitatio appearing so frequently in 10.1 and 10.2 should not be surprising, however, because the entirety of 10.2 is dedicated to teaching the student how to properly imitate eloquent speakers and 10.1 is providing the necessary information for Quintilian to accomplish that task. We will, then, be analyzing imitatio mostly from 10.1 and 10.1 as these two chapters are where the term is explicated most thoroughly. In 10.1, imitatio functions as a noun six times (four times as imitatio; twice as imitator); as a verb four times (three times as imitor); once as the gerundive imitandus); and as an adjective once (as imitabilis). In 10.2, imitatio functions as a noun seven times (seven as imitatio; zero as imitor); as a verb seven times (five times as imitor; 98
twice as the gerundive imitandus); as an adjective twice (both as imitibilis); and twice as a participle. Therefore, we have seen the technical term function in a variety of ways grammatically, though always as a technical term referring to the rhetorical concept of stylistic imitation (imitatio), a person engaged in imitation (imitator), an adjective describing whether or not something is imitatable (imitabilis), or the action of imitation
(imitor, imitantes, imitandus). The term is never used for any purpose other than to convey the idea of rhetorical replication and, thus, always serves as a technical term indicating a process necessary to achieve true eloquence.
I. Quintilian and Imitatio
In 10.2, after giving a comprehensive reading list of the more virtuous Greek and
Latin authors in 10.1, Quintilian suggests that imitatio is undoubtedly a necessity to the art of rhetoric. In Table 5.xvi, he notes:
Ex his ceterisque lectione dignis auctoribus et verborum sumenda copia est et varietas figurarum et componendi ratio, tum ad exemplum virtutum omnium mens derigenda. Neque enim dubitari potest quin artis pars magna contineatur imitatione (10.2.1).
From these and other authors being worthy authorities for reading, it is necessary to pick out an abundance of words and a variety of figures and the reasoning for arrangement, so our mind soften to the example of all their virtue. And it cannot be doubted that a large part of this art is held together with imitation.
In addition, Quintilian argues that imitation is the natural process of education with any skill. For instance, children learning to write will copy various shapes to learn letters and farmers imitate the ways of their ancestors, choosing the methods that have proven to be the best (10.2.2). However, Quintilian very quickly tells the reader that the process of 99
imitation must be handled with precise judgment and gives five reasons for why the orator must not stop with mere imitation: it is lazy, shameful, pointless, necessarily more artificial and, it is impossible.
I.a Imitation Insufficient
First, Quintilian says that imitation is not sufficient for reaching perfect eloquence on its own. In fact, says Quintilian, merely imitating predecessors is the mark of a lazy orator:
Ante omnia igitur imitatio per se ipsa non suffiit, vel quia pigri est ingenii contentum esse iis quae sint ab aliis inventa (10.2.4).
Before all else, then, imitation is not sufficient by itself because it is of a lazy quality to be content with those things which have been found by others.
Quintilian provides examples for why merely imitating another orator is a pigri ingenii
[lazy quality]. Drawing attention back to their ancient predecessors, Quintilian questions what would have happened if earlier generations had been content to simply imitate ideas without adding any original input (10.2.5). In modern terms, think of the advice we give to many first year English students: learn to imitate your favorite authors, but do not simply copy them. The underlying concern for Quintilian is that rhetoric is an art in all forms— speaking and writing—and should progress over time. However, if we are happy only to use the ideas that have already been found, the progression ceases. For this reason,
Quintilian says that mere imitation is not only lazy, but shameful too (Table 5.xviii):
Turpe etiam illud est, contentum esse id consequi quod imiteris. Nam rursus quid erat futurum si nemo plus efficisset eo quem sequebatur? (10.2.7) 100
Also, it is shameful to be content to simply model that which you imitate. For, again, what would have been if no one had accomplished more than that which he followed?
The idea conveyed here is similar to the first (that imitation can be lazy), but much more aggressive and much more Roman. Notice the difference in tone as Quintilian switches from pigri [lazy] to turpe [shameful, foul, filthy]. Even in the English translation we get a clear idea of how strongly Quintilian feels about this: stopping with imitation is disgraceful. The reason Quintilian feels so strongly about this can be traced to his cultural attitude which is best represented by the cursus honorum (the course of honors). As
Adcock says, “The idea that magistrates should rise to power in a due order of responsibility was embodied in the cursus honorum” (272). The main principle of the cursus honorum was that a Roman citizen must go through certain military and political offices before being promoted to the next and men would take honor in achieving these honors at the youngest age possible. In modern terms, it is like revering John F. Kennedy for becoming president at age forty-three. According to the Roman attitude, though, it would be all the more impressive to see a President sworn into office at age thirty-five— the lowest legal age. We must hold in mind that Romans were competitively ambitious and citizens would be honored based on achievements, not effort. While the overall aim of de
Institutio is to educate the perfect orator, one vital prerequisite is that this speaker will also be the ideal citizen. For the Roman citizen, then, mere imitation of other people’s efforts would not be anything to beat their chests about. So when Quintilian asks whether or not this generation should nostra…tempora damnamus (“damn our own time”) as being the first that cannot produce any original works (10.2.8), it is not merely an exaggerated 101
sentiment, but a passionate response to a cultural shortcoming. Quintilian recognizes that this perfect citizen-orator has never existed (10.2.9) and never will if future generations merely copy the past. Quintilian states:
Nam qui hoc agit, ut prior sit, forsitan, etiam si non transierit , aequabit. Eum vero nemo potest aequare cuius vestigiis sibi utique insistendum putat: necesse est enim semper sit posterior qui sequitur (10.2.10).
For he who tries to finish, so that he would be first, perhaps if he does not pass (the other), will be equal with him. However, no one will be able to equal another whose feet he thinks he must tread behind: Necessarily, he will always be behind the person he follows.
Thus, it is the responsibility of Quintilian’s orator primarily to surpass his predecessors though, if this is not possible, the orator should at least match their achievements.
However, imitatio alone will not allow the orator to accomplish either of these tasks.
Furthermore, Quintilian argues that mimicking another’s work is actually pointless because it is easier to improve upon an idea than to simply repeat it:
Adde quod plerumque facilius est plus facere quam idem (10.2.10).
Also, it is, for the most part, easier to add to and idea than to do the same.
Quintilian points out that not even Nature herself reproduces anything perfectly. Thus, why should we? (10.2.10). This brings us to the fourth piece of advice from Quintilian on imitation: reproductions are artificial.
Quintilian argues that a copy of something is always less perfect than the original, echoing the Platonists. Giving various examples, such as the shadow of the body being 102
less than the body or the painting of a face being less than the face (10.2.11), Quintilian argues that this is what mere imitation leads to (Table 5.xxii):
Namque iis quae in exemplum adsumimus subest natura et vera vis, contra omnis imitatio ficta est et ad alienum propositum commodatur (10.2.11-12).
For those which we adopt as examples have a nature and a real force of their own, but imitation is a deception against all these and is adjusted to someone else’s purpose.
Quintilian tells us that while we have examples to follow, each of our models had a unique ability of their own which we should not pretend or even attempt to replicate.
Finally, Quintilian offers his last words of caution about imitation: that the best qualities in the models we are following are impossible to imitate, so attempting to do so would be foolish. Quintilian criticizes those who take a few lines from their favorite authors and feel as if they have matched their predecessor’s eloquence (10.2.13). Rather, Quintilian argues that the best features of our examples are things which are not capable of imitating
Table 5.xxiii):
Adde quod ea quae in oratore maxima sunt imitabilia non sunt, ingenium, inventio, vis, facilitas et quidquid arte non traditur (10.2.12-13).
Again, because those things which are the greatest skills in an orator are not able to be imitated, such as his innate talent, invention, force, fluency of expression and anything else not handed over by the art (rhetorical textbooks).
Quintilian argues here that we will never be able to truly imitate every aspect of another orator. Thus, we have at this point been provided with five reasons for why imitatio will not lead to true eloquence on its own: we have seen that imitation can be lazy, shameful, 103
pointless, artificial, and impossible if not handled correctly. The question remains, then, how does one appropriately imitate the eloquence of our ancestors? Quintilian tells the reader that we must ask ourselves two questions: first whom we should imitate and second, what qualities should we imitate in them (10.2.14-15).
I.b Who Should Be Imitated
Determining whom Quintilian wants his student to imitate is not as obvious as we might have hoped. As we may observe om10.1, there is a long list of orators whom we should read and there is no single orator who stands as the ultimate authority, since each orator in the past has some stylistic virtue. For this reason, it is important for the student to have a broad reading list combined with proper training in rhetorical tools. We can infer this from Quintilian’s own words (Table 5.xxvii):
Ergo primum est ut quod imitaturus est quique intellegat, et quare bonum sit sciat (10.2.18).
Therefore, the first step (for imitation) is that he should understand what he will imitate and he should know why it is considered good.
In order to know what should be imitated, then, it will be important to the student to have been exposed to the wide variety of authors which were discussed in 10.1. These authors come from all genres—comedy, tragedy, poetry, history, and philosophy—and each have unique stylistic virtues, though, some more than others.
In selecting what to imitate, however, it will be necessary for the student to have correct judgment in determining why certain qualities for these authors are excellent. The concern, for Quintilian, is that the student will imitate the faults of famous authors and 104
think they have achieved eloquence. Quintilian warns the reader against becoming like those who claim their plain style makes them “Attic”, that their concise style makes them like Sallust, or that by concluding a sentence in a specific way they are speaking like
Cicero (10.2.17-18). But Quintilian argues:
Nam in magnis quoque auctoribus incidunt aliqua vitiosa et a doctis et inter ipsos etiam mutuo reprehensa: atque utinam tan bona imitantes dicerent melius quam mala peius dicunt (10.2.15).
Even great authorities have some blemishes, which are criticized both by the learned and by the authors themselves in their mutual recriminations. If only the imitators of good qualities improved on them as much as imitators of bad qualities exaggerated these.
As stated above, Quintilian wrote de Institutio because he believed the perfect orator had not yet existed. Consequently, Quintilian’s concern is that amateur orators will mimic their favorite authorities without first being aware of their model’s vices. In order to appropriately judge the “blemishes” of an ancient writer, it is clear that the student will need to have a deep understanding of rhetorical forms. It is not simply knowing what is good about a text, but rather why and when a technique is appropriate. The student must acquire a mature taste for rhetorical models before knowing who may be imitated. To develop this sound judgment will first require the student to be immersed in a wide variety of readings and to be instructed as to the virtues of a good text.
Quintilian appears to believe that immersing oneself in good texts will lead to a process of assimilation. After enough reading, the student will simply know what author to mimic in accordance with the rhetorical situation, much like how a diverse tool belt works for a mechanic. Elaine Fantham defines “assimilation” as “the hidden element 105
which memorization and analysis of classical models would contribute to the student, in different degrees” (110). Furthermore, Fantham believes that assimilation will be produced through the process of digesting, rather than surface reading, a text (110).
Fantham’s conclusion is drawn from 10.1 where Quintilian discusses the merits of rereading texts:
Repetamus autem et tractemus et, ut cibos mansos ac prope liquefactos demittimus quo facilius digerantur, ita lectio non cruda sed multa iteratione mollita et velut confecta memoriae imitationique tradatur (10.1.19).
Let us go over the text again and work on it. We chew our food and almost liquefy it before we swallow, so as to digest it more easily; similarly, let our reading be made available for memory and imitation, not in an undigested form, but, as it were, softened and reduced to pap by frequent repetition.
An even more convincing argument for the unconscious imitation of eloquence comes from book two of de Institutio Oratoria:
...semperque habebunt intra se quod imitentur, et iam non sentientes formam orationis illam quam mente penitus acceperint expriment (2.7.3).
…and they will always carry their models with them and unconsciously reproduce the style of the speech which has been impressed upon the memory.
Though Quintilian is discussing the education of the younger child in this instance, he is plainly aware of the process of assimilation to which Fantham is referring. By reading a wide variety of texts from authors who are deemed credible, presumably by the instructor, the student may identify the virtues of these authorities and mimic their rhetorical forms. Eventually, this process of replication will become natural. This is not 106
the last consideration, though, as Quintilian tells the reader that we must then learn to recognize our own abilities.
I.c Limitations of Imitatio
The second question Quintilian forwards is what qualities should we imitate from our authorities. At first glance, this sounds similar to what was just stated: if we know the rhetorical rules and may critique the ancients appropriately, we will know which virtues to imitate and what faults to leave behind. However, Quintilian is more concerned here with the natural ability of the one attempting to imitate others (Table 5.xxviii):
Nam quadam sunt imitabilia quibus aut infirmitas naturae non sufficiat aut diversitas repugnet (10.2.19).
For there are certain imitatable qualities which would not be appropriate either due to a weakness of natural abilities or would repel a different temperament.
This directly relates back to Quintilian’s last word of caution against direct imitation seen above: it is impossible due to the different natural abilities and diverse temperaments of individual orators. Some speakers are naturally more powerful, some naturally more smooth. Quintilian does not want his student to imitate a predecessor in a way that is unnatural. After all, there is nothing worse, according to Quintilian, than seeing a someone with a naturally delicate personality attempt to be harsh, or vice versa (10.2.20).
As Quintilian says, nihil est enim tam indecens quam cum mollia dure fiunt [there is nothing so indecent as a strong man attempting to be dainty!; 10.2.19]. Instead, we must be able to correctly judge who we should imitate—through a wide reading list and a deep understanding of rhetorical forms—and we should know what we are capable of imitating—through identifying our individual strengths and weaknesses as orators. 107
I.d Quintilian’s Concluding Remarks on Imitatio
Finally, Quintilian concludes the chapter with a three more pieces of advice on imitation: vary the authors, do not limit imitation to words, and add original qualities to each imitation. Quintilian states that one should not imitate just one author (10.2.23). The disadvantages of doing so are obvious: there is no perfect orator and, thus, there is no universal example of a perfect style. If we only imitate an author who is light hearted, we will be ill equipped to produce a speech that deals with heavier issues. Quintilian even goes so far as to say that neither Demosthenes nor Cicero, despite their approach to perfection, should be imitated in isolation (10.24-25). The goal is to build a stock of examples which we may pull from as the rhetorical situation demands. Second, Quintilian tells us that imitation should not be limited to words (Table 5.xxxii):
Imitatio autem (nam saepius idem dicam) non sit tantum in verbis. Illuc intendenda mens, quantum fuerit illis viris decoris in rebus atque personis, quod consilium, quae dispositio, quam omnia, etiam quae delectationi videantur data, ad victoriam spectent (10.2.27).
Imitation—I shall often make this point—should not be restricted to words. What we must fix our minds on is the propriety with which the great men handle circumstances and persons, their strategy, their arrangement, the way in which everything (even what seems to be a concession to entertainment value) is aimed at victory.
Imitation is not merely pulling clever quotes, phrases, or vocabulary out from the authorities. Instead, proper imitation will look at the many virtues of the orator which exceed the text itself and match the rhetorical situation. In fact, Quintilian says that this is the only way we can truly imitate (10.2.27). Third, and most importantly, Quintilian 108
states that we must add our own qualities to the speeches which we produce. The emphasis on this point should indicate how strongly Quintilian feels about the matter:
Qui vero etiam propria his bona adiecerit, ut suppleat quae deerant, circumcidat si quid redundabit, is erit quem quaerimus perfectus orator (10.2.28).
It is indeed he who would add his own special good qualities to these things, so that he would supply that which is lacking, or cut anything which is redundant, who will be the perfect orator we are seeking.
Indeed, we must again remember that Quintilian is not seeking to instruct the skilled but rather the perfect orator. This ideal speaker will be the one who knows who to properly imitate, what to properly imitate, and what personal qualities he may add in order to increase the eloquence of his presentation.
In conclusion, we have accomplished several tasks through this outline of
Quintilian’s advice for imitation. First, we observed five ways in which Quintilian believes imitation to be lacking on its own: it is lazy, shameful, pointless, artificial, and it is impossible. More importantly, these words of wisdom indicated that Quintilian views rhetoric as an ever-evolving art that should grow with each new generation of orators.
Second, we discussed two questions which Quintilian promises will guide the student when learning how to properly imitate: who should be imitated and why, and what are we capable of imitating? Here, we saw that the student requires a wide variety of reading material as well as a firm foundation in rhetorical forms. In this way, the student will not only be able to know what ancient orators are available for imitation, but will know how to correctly judge the virtues of these speakers. Furthermore, the student will be able to 109
identify his own strengths and weaknesses as a speaker in order to know which of these virtues he is capable of imitating. The perfect citizen-orator will recognize the virtues in the models he is imitating but also recognize his own natural limits and what the rhetorical situation demands. Finally, we discussed three last pieces of advice which Quintilian gives the student for imitation: we must always imitate more than one author, we must imitate more than just the words of these authors, and we must add our own qualities to the virtues of these authors. Therefore, in this section we have learned that imitation is a process of recognizing which virtues of the ancient orators will be most fitting for the rhetorical situation. Having a large stock of authors to imitate will allow the orator to adapt his style as required and in a depth that exceeds the mere text. Also, consistent with what Quintilian had mentioned earlier in 10.2, each orator has the responsibility of adding personal excellences to the ones being imitated. It is in this way, and only in this way, that the art of rhetoric may progress and eloquence may be acheived. Now that we have a clear understanding of the guidelines for Quintilian’s imitatio, we will turn our attention to how this technical term operates in book four of de Doctrina Christiana.
II. Augustine and Imitatio
This section will be dedicated to explicating Augustine’s view of imitatio in
Christian rhetoric as presented in book four of de Doctrina Christiana. First, we will provide the necessary areas of background information. Second, we will analyze the technical uses of imitatio. These uses have been compiled in Table 5 and include the original Latin, as well as the English translations. In the end, we will have an in-depth knowledge of the definition and role of imitatio in Christian rhetoric. 110
II.a Contextualizing Imitatio in Augustine
Three of Augustine’s ideas help to contextualize his view of imitatio: the necessity of eloquence in Christian oratory, the importance of rhetorical rules, and the process of immersion. We must begin by understanding what makes eloquence important for Christianity. Throughout book four, we see Augustine praise two qualities in the
Christian preacher: wisdom and eloquence. While wisdom is consistently held as the primary virtue for Augustinian rhetoric, the reader should not underestimate the importance given to eloquence. For instance, Augustine says that wisdom and clarity are needed when there are logical arguments and facts which must be clarified. Then,
Quintilian goes on to state:
Si vero qui audiunt movendi sunt potius quam docendi, ut in eo quod iam sciunt agendo non torpeant et rebus assensum quas versa esse fatentur accommodent, maioribus dicendi viribus opus est. Ibi obsecrationes et increpationes, concitationes et coercitationes et quaecumque alia valent ad commovendos animos sunt necessaria (4.15).
If indeed those who are listening need to be moved rather than taught so that they may know how to act, the speaker should not be stiff and should bring a person to those things which they profess to be true, then the work needs greater force of speaking. In which case entreaties and rebukes, exciting speeches and admonitions, and all other things which serve to move the spirit are necessary.
We can tell from the advice that follows that this is exactly what Augustine means by eloquence: the ability to move a crowd by rousing emotions. Augustine recognizes that while wisdom is the primary tool for the Christian orator, it will not be as effective as the speaker who is both wise and eloquent (4.16-18). Therefore, Augustine argues that the 111
preacher who can share the Christian teaching while at the same time delighting the audience will certainly be the better preacher.
Augustine’s stance on learning the technical rules of eloquence is also crucial to understanding how imitatio functions for him. Immediately in book four, Augustine makes it clear that he does not value rhetorical rules or, at the very least, he certainly does not think them necessary for becoming eloquent. Augustine begins by telling the reader which rules constitute eloquentia nominatur (“what we call eloquence”) should be taken up as an independent study, apart from de Doctrina (4.6). His argument is made clear: these rules are not able to be mastered by everyone and, even if they can be, they should not distract people old enough to focus on a life dedicated to God. In fact, Augustine argues, these should only be studied by young men who have the appropriate amount of leisurely time to do so (4.7-8). Augustine says about these rhetorical rules:
Non enim, etiamsi possint haec a tardibus tandem aliquando perdisci, nos ea tanti pendimus ut eis discendis iam matures vel etiam graves hominum aetates velimus impendi (4.7).
Certainly, even if these rules were ever able to be learned by the (mentally) slow, we do not consider them important enough that we would wish for those already in their mature and substantive years of age to be devoted to learning them.
Augustine is clearly not concerned with learning the technical rules taught in the rhetorical handbooks at the time. The question, then, is how one may hope to become eloquent, which leads us to the topic of immersion.
Augustine argues that if one is constantly reading eloquent materials, one will naturally become more eloquent than any scholar who had taken the time to memorize 112
technical rules (4.8). To be clear, however, this does not include eloquence as found in
Pagan resources:
Nec desunt ecclesiasticae literrae, etiam praeter canonem in auctoritas arce salubriter collocatum, quas legendo homo capax, etsi id non agat sed tantummodo rebus quae ibi dicuntur intentus sit, etiam eloquio quo dicuntur… (4.9)
Neither are the ecclesiastical letters, even beyond the canon, lacking [eloquence], but establish themselves as a health giving high authority, which the capable man, just by paying attention, even without trying, is bathed in eloquence through reading that which is discussed with eloquence…
Therefore, the student of the eloquent Christian texts may become eloquent even if he is not attempting to be. It is a form of natural eloquence or, perhaps more appropriately named, eloquence through immersion. However, in order to get the full effect of this immersion process, one must additionally make writing, dictating, and speaking the messages of the Bible and the Church Fathers a regular practice. In other words, one must imitate:
Etiam eloquio quo dicuntur, dum in his versatur, imbuitur, accedente vel maxime exercitatione sive scribendi sive dictandi, postremo etiam dicendi, quae secundum pietatis ac fidei regulam sentit (4.9).
Also he is soaked in eloquence by reading that which is discussed with eloquence, while he is turned in these things, approaching them especially with great practice in either writing or in dictating, and, eventually, in speaking, which he feel feels to be following rules of piety and faith.
Obviously, the important thing for the Christian learner is to master piety and faith, and to surround oneself with examples of those who speak eloquently about these matters. Thus, 113
we have seen that imitatio is more practical than learning the rhetorical rules, especially in an advanced age, and it is rooted in the immersion of Christian teaching. Furthermore, we have noted that imitatio is the overall process of becoming eloquent in Augustinian rhetoric. Now that these ideas have been established, we may observe Table 6:
Table 6 Imitatio, -onis in book four of de Doctrina Christiana
i) 4.12 …et, quantum assequi conceditur, imitando?
…and, as much as it would be conceded to the followed, by imitation?
ii) 4.22 …ad legendos vel audiendos et exercitatione imitandos eloquentes eum mitto libentius quam…
…I happily refer him to reading or hearing eloquent speakers and by practice imitating them…
iii) 4.61 …nequaquam putare debemus imitandos nobis eos esse in his,…
…and we should not at all thinking them to be imitated by us in these ways…
iv) 4.129 …tamquam sub exempli forma, quod moribus imitentur…
…so that by the form of example, that which is imitated by habits…
v) 4.141 Sed numquid omnes qui delectantur imitantur, sicut in grandi genere omnes...
But do we say that all who are delighted are imitated, just as in the grand style everyone. 114
Imitatio is used five times in book four of de Doctrina and each time it is used as a verb (twice as imitor; three times as the gerundive imitandus). This tells us that, at least in book four, when Augustine refers to imitatio, he is instructing the reader about a process or an action. The most interesting aspect is the occurrence of the gerundive form imitandus. In Latin, the gerundive denotes a necessity of action. In John Taylor’s authoritative book “Latin Beyond the GCSE” he describes the gerundive as “an adjective formed from a verb…literally meaning needing to be X-ed; i.e. it is passive, and has the idea of obligation” (43). With this in mind, we may see that imitandus will imply something is “needing to be imitated.” It is this idea of “needing to be” or “ought to be” which is of crucial importance. We may already see that Augustine is not providing the reader with examples which “may be” or “are possibly” imitated, but rather those examples which necessitate imitation. After a quick glance at Table 6, the reader may also be struck by the limited use of imitatio in book four, particularly when compared with the frequency of the term in Quintilian. Consequently, we may even be tempted to believe that imitatio did not play as large a role in mastering eloquence for Augustine as it does for Quintilian. However, this idea is quickly refuted in the first example of the technical term from book four. Augustine explains to his readers that imitatio is immensely important to becoming eloquent (Table 6.i):
Quapropter, cum ex infantibus loquentes non fiant nisi locutiones discendo loquentium, cur eloquentes fieri non possunt nulla eloquendi arte tradita sed elocutions eloquentium legendo et audiendo et, quantum assequi conceditur, imitando? Quid quod ita fieri ipsis quoque experimur exemplis? Name sine praeceptis rhetoricis novimus plurimos eloquentiores plurimus qui illa 115
didicerunt, sine lectis vero et auditis eloquentium disputationibus vel dictionibus neminem (4.12).
Why then, since speaking is not learned from infants except by learning from those who are speaking, why are the eloquent not able to acquire eloquence not through the eloquence from the textbooks of rhetoric but through threading and hearing the eloquent and in imitating them as much as it is able to be followed. Isn’t this precisely what we see in practice? We know that there are very many speakers with no knowledge of rhetorical rules who are more eloquent than the many who have learned them; but no one who has not read or listened to the disputations or addresses of good speakers is eloquent at all.
Augustine believes that imitatio is not only a more natural way to become eloquent, since we see the same process with infants learning language, but also a more effective route.
Through imitation, one can surpass the orator who has learned all the methods of eloquence taught by the Pagan teachers. In fact, Augustine had even said previously in book four that it is impossible to keep track of all the tedious rules concerning eloquence while speaking, yet often we discover the rules by observing speeches of men who are naturally eloquent (4.10-11). Considering the importance Augustine gives to imitatio in becoming eloquenct, a fair question would be, “whom should the Christian orator imitate?” The answer is, obviously, other eloquent speakers. However, Augustine sets clear guidelines for the particular group of eloquent speakers that he would recommend.
II.b Who the Christian Orator Should Imitate
In order to properly use imitatio to become eloquent, Augustine tells the readers that they must read a specific type of eloquent author, which may be observed in Table
6.ii: 116
Porro qui non solum sapienter verum etiam eloquenter vult dicere, quoniam profeto plus proderit si utrumque potuerit, ad legendos vel audiendos et exercitatione imitandos eloquentes eum mitto libentius quam magistris artis rhetoricae vacare praecipio, sit amen hi qui leguntur et audiuntur non solum eloquenter sed etiam sapienter dixisse vel dicere veraci praedicatione laudantur. (4.22).
As for the person who wants to speak eloquently as well as wisely—it will certainly be more beneficial if he can do both—I would be happier to refer him to eloquent speakers so that he can read their works, listen to their words, and necessarily imitating them, than to recommend that his time be spent on teachers of rhetoric, provided that those whom he will read and listen to are reliably said to be, or to have been, wise speakers as well as eloquent ones.
After reiterating, again, that Augustine would prefer the Christian orator to refer to other eloquent texts than to teachers of the rhetorical rules, he makes the condition that whomever is imitated must first be wise (sapienter). Shortly after, Augustine clarifies who these wise speakers are when he says Qui enim eloquenter dicuntur, suaviter, qui sapienter, salubriter audiuntur [Eloquent speakers give pleasure, wise ones are more wholesome; 4.23]. Green translates salubriter as “salvation” (Augustine, de Doctrina
Christian 205), though this seems to be a more liberal translation in comparison with any other authoritative lexicon or commentary. At most, we can infer that Augustine uses salubriter to mean “wholesome” (as translated above) to suggest that wise preachers are those who teach the Christian doctrine. Therefore, we have another condition for
Augustine’s imitatio: Christian eloquence is not simply rooted in other Christian texts, as we saw above, but according to this passage, it prioritizes Christian texts. This point should not be misunderstood, however, as suggesting that Augustine did not see the value 117
in Pagan rhetoric. On the contrary, Augustine is writing de Doctrina because he sees how dangerously powerful classical eloquence can be (4.17). We must hold in mind that there was a large discussion among the Church leaders as to whether or not Pagan rhetoric should be admitted into the world of Christian thought. Murphy says that “it was an age also in which former teachers of rhetoric—Jerome, Basil, and Augustine, among others— felt that they must decide whether their former profession deserved a place in the new order” (Saint Augustine and the Debate 406). In response to this discussion, there is no doubt as to whether or not Augustine saw value in Pagan rhetoric: he conclusively did.
However, this is not the same as asking who Augustine would have his audience imitate to achieve eloquence or whether effort in the technical skill was the most valuable use of one’s time. We may not with any confidence speculate as to how often (or whether!)
Augustine would have recommended Pagan authors such as Cicero or Demosthenes to his best students in person (with a wink and a nod perhaps), but we can say with full confidence that in de Doctrina Christiana Augustine prioritizes the imitation of “wise” speakers (who are salubriter) than eloquent ones. As we saw earlier in this thesis, though, it does not necessarily follow that every Christian text is eloquent.
So far we have discovered that the Christian orator who is hoping to become eloquent must immerse himself in the Christian teachings and imitate those Christian authors whom he finds eloquent. But one of the dilemmas for Augustine is that some of the Christian teachings, such as the Scriptures, have a tendency to be obscure. We have already noted in chapter two of this thesis that Augustine sees obscuritas as a necessary tool for conveying eternal ideas and bringing the reader to a deeper understanding of the 118
truth, since perfect clarity about the eternal things is not possible in mere human speech.
Here, we will only briefly look at the example from Table 6.iii and reiterate what this means for imitatio:
Sed nos etsi de litteris eorum quae sine difficultate intelleguntur nonnulla sumimus elocutionis exempla, nequaquam putare debemus imitandos nobis eos esse in his, quae ad exercendas et elimandas quodam modo mentes legentium et ad rumpenda fastidia atque acuenda studia discere volentium, celandos quoque, sive ut ad pietatem convertantur sive ut a mysteriis secludantur, animos impiorum utili ac salubri obsuritate dixerunt (4.61).
Although I am taking numerous examples of style from those of their writings which are understood without difficulty, we should certainly not think that they are suitable for imitation in those passages where they have spoken with a helpful and healthy obscurity in order to exercise and somehow refine their reader’s minds or to overcome the reluctance and whet the enthusiasm of those seeking to learn, or even in order to cloud the minds of the wicked, whether this is done to turn them to holiness or to exclude them from the holy mysteries.
Augustine gives his reader a word of caution when imitating particular Christian texts: imitate only those writings that have perspicuitas (clarity). Augustine defends the right of the Scriptures to be obscure in certain areas but argues that it is not for the Christian orator to think he has the authority to engage in this type of divine eloquence. Instead, the
Christian orator is both an interpreter and a teacher of the Holy Scriptures (4.14) and should, therefore, not need an interpreter himself. At this point, then, we have a detailed sketch of what imitatio is for Augustine: the imitation of primarily Christian authors who eloquently teach the wisdom of the Holy Scriptures which is accomplished by the 119
immersion in Christian writings. Now, we may turn our attention to Augustine’s use of the gerundive.
The gerundive form of a verb is a tool that is used to convey a sense of necessity.
John Taylor states that the gerundive is used to express “something that has not happened yet, but should” (43). Augustine uses the gerundive imitandus three times (Table 6.i; ii; iii). We have already observed the first example in which Augustine states:
Quapropter, cum ex infantibus loquentes non fiant nisi locutiones discendo loquentium, cur eloquentes fieri non possunt nulla eloquendi arte tradita sed elocutiones eloquentium legendo et audiendo et, quantum assequi conceditur, imitando? (4.12).
Infants acquire speech purely by assimilating the words and phrases of those who speak to them; so why should the eloquent not be able to acquire their eloquence not through the traditional teaching but by reading and listening to the to the speeches of the eloquent and by necessarily imitating them within the limits of their ability.
The translation here is difficult because the gerund imitando carries the sense of a
“necessity” or “ought to” but cannot be smoothly stated in English. However, we know that Augustine is not merely saying “by imitating them” as a neutral verb because the present participle imitante would have served that purpose. Therefore, the reader would be left with the impression that Augustine is referring to the eloquent speakers who
“ought to be” imitated, the “wise” and eloquent speakers. The examples in Table 6.ii and
Table 6.iii are no different: in the former, Augustine uses imitandos to suggest the
Christian teacher “ought to” imitate the Christian writers after being thoroughly seeped in the texts (4.22); in the latter, Augustine uses imitandos (4.61) in the negative sense to 120
convey what “ought not” to be imitated, which we have established as obscure teachings.
This idea of necessity should not be overlooked (as it is in Green’s translation). The difference is easily observed in English. If we say, “you can imitate these writers,” it is completely different than saying, “you should imitate these writers.” Augustine is not giving neutral advice, but has emphasized Christian texts as being those which ought to be read and imitated. In doing so, Augustine has made Christian texts not just a part of imitation, but a requirement. This is not the same as saying Augustine would have his reader only read the Christian texts for eloquence, since that would probably be too strong of a claim. However, while Christian texts may not be sufficient to lead to Christian eloquence, Augustine certainly makes them necessary.
In conclusion, this section has accomplished several tasks. We have provided three areas of background information necessary for understanding the role of imitatio in de Doctrina. These areas included the role of eloquence in Christian oratory, the role of rhetorical rules in Christian education, and the importance of immersion in Christian teachings. Second, we observed the relevant examples from Table 6 and discovered several aspects of Augustine’s imitatio: that immersion in Christian writings combined with imitation of the eloquence in these texts is more effective to becoming eloquent than studying the technical rules of style, that the Christian orator is to exclusively imitate wise authors, the term “wise” referring to those who will lead the reader to salvation
(Christian teachers), and to always speak in a clear fashion so as not to mimic those passages of Scripture which were intentionally obscure. Therefore, we may say that imitatio for Augustine is the necessary tool for becoming eloquent which is prioritized 121
over the rhetorical rules of style but under wisdom. Furthermore, this imitation is the result of the process of immersing oneself in Christian writings and conveying eternal truth in a clear fashion. Finally, we saw that Augustine’s use of the gerundive (rather than the present participle) suggests that he is not merely suggesting that Christian authors be imitated, but is making it a requirement. Now that we have successfully outlined
Augustine’s imitatio, we may begin to compare the ideas found with what we discovered in Quintilian, or Pagan rhetoric.
III. Conclusions
I believe, that this study into the technical term imitatio has taught us three things concerning Pagan and Christian rhetoric. We have learned that Quintilian views imitatio as insufficient due to his Roman culture (the cursus honorum) but that Augustine is perfectly content with imitatio leading to eloquence as a result of his Christian priorities.
We have learned that both Quintilian and Augustine encourage a large variety of reading for the purpose of assimilation, but toward different ends. Finally, we have observed how
Augustine prioritizes Christian authors for his students which has some obvious ramifications.
One key finding from this study was the degree to which Quintilian and Augustine were satisfied with imitatio as a tool to lead to eloquence. As we saw with Quintilian, he supported the process of imitatio as a necessity for becoming eloquent but was certainly not happy with the concept on its own. Rather, Quintilian thought it was disgraceful
(turpe) for an orator to imitate his predecessors without adding any originality to a speech.
This is obviously the result of the Roman culture as best described by the 122
cursus honorum. The good Roman citizen would have been remarkably ambitious and aggressively competitive. One would not get the highest honors by merely reaching the standards of past generations but by exceeding them. Quintilian wrote de Institutio to educate the perfect roman orator who would also be the perfect Roman citizen. Therefore, we should expect that Quintilian views imitatio as disgraceful if it is merely a copy of past generations. Being satisfied with reproducing other people’s achievements is not just a mark of laziness, but is anti-Roman. When we reach Augustine, however, this has changed. Augustine is not concerned with the cursus honorum because Christianity does not teach competition with neighbors, but submission to them. In Christian teachings, you raise yourself through humility toward others. This act of submitting oneself to the service of others requires the Christian to stop competing. The goal is not to become the
King of an empire, but to be a slave of God and a servant of men. Only in this way would a good Christian expect to partake in the Kingdom of God. Thus, it is only natural that
Augustine is not concerned with his Christian preachers attempting to out-do one another in terms of rhetorical eloquence. Instead, Augustine is primarily concerned with the
Christian preacher obtaining wisdom and, as an afterthought, being able to convey this wisdom eloquently. By studying imitatio, then, we have seen an interesting difference between Pagan and Christian goals for rhetoric: the Pagan priority of surpassing the artistic achievements of the past and the Christian concern with the humble wisdom of the Christian doctrine. In fact, Augustine’s focus on wisdom above eloquence brings us to our second finding. 123
Another interesting point about this analysis is how both Quintilian and Augustine recognize that large amounts of reading will lead to assimilation, the process of unconsciously replicating aspects of rhetoric as the result of frequent repetition.
Quintilian most clearly discusses this point in book two, but we see hints of it again in
10.1 and 10.2. Augustine supports the same concept in book four when he tells the reader that immersion in the Christian texts combined with imitation of the author’s style in writing, dictating, and speaking will lead to eloquence (4.9). However, Quintilian and
Augustine clearly have two different objectives in mind. For Quintilian, one of the aims of imitatio is to achieve eloquence which will be done through repeated readings of eloquent speakers in combination with judgment about what parts of the text are rhetorically good. Much like learning a language, Quintilian believes the student will naturally start to assimilate all the stylistic virtues of a text and, if properly trained, may imitate those virtues where appropriate in original works. Augustine, on the other hand, appears to have a different end in mind when suggesting imitatio. By turning the student’s attention primarily to the “wise” texts—Christian teachings—Augustine obviously wants the student to assimilate the text’s wisdom first and believes that eloquence will naturally tag along. As Augustine says:
Huic ergo, qui sapienter debet dicere etiam quod non potest eloquenter, verba scripturarum tenere maxime necessarium est. Quanto enim se pauperiorem cernit in suis tanto eum oportet in istis esse ditiorem, ut quod dixerit suis verbis probet ex illis, et qui propriis verbis minor erat magnorum testimonio quodam modo crescat. Probando enim delectat qui minus potest delectare dicendo (4.21). 124
For a person who has to speak wisely on matters which he cannot treat eloquently close adhérence to the words of scripture is particularly necessary. The poorer he sees himself to be in his own resources, the richer he must be in those of scripture, using them to confirm what he says in his own words; so that although once déficient in words of his own he can grow in stature, as it were, by the testimony of something really important. A preacher who cannot give pleasure with his words may give pleasure with his texts.
In other words, Augustine wants the reader to imitate Christian texts. Were eloquence to result from that imitation, all the better. This is not to say that Augustine does not want his student to be an eloquent preacher and even agrees with Cicero that wisdom without eloquence is not of value to the society. However, Augustine’s main concern is not the earthly society but the heavenly Kingdom of God. Consequently imitatio for Augustine is not primarily seeking eloquent teachers, but good preachers who have assimilated
Christian teachings. Thus, through studying imitatio we have seen a transition from
Pagan rhetoric to Christian rhetoric that demotes eloquence from a position of necessity to a position of luxury.
Finally, through a close reading of imitatio, we have observed the difference between Pagan and Christian rhetoric with regard to who should be imitated by the orator. As we stated above, Quintilian wants the student to have read a wide variety of authors in order to have a stockpile of varying talents that may be used in accordance with the rhetorical situation. However, at no point do we find him excluding genres or authors so long as they are being used appropriately. In fact, 10.1 lists all of the merits of many Greek and Roman authors as well as what we may learn from writers in the field of history, poetry, philosophy and the playwrights. Quintilian’s overall goal largely accounts 125
for this mindset. He is attempting to educate the perfect Roman citizen. The good Roman would be the man whose judgment correctly discerns what actions are beneficial for
Rome according to what the situation requires. The only way to do this, however, is by gathering as much information on the matter beforehand to make a balanced decision in accordance with the cardinal virtues—prudence, justice, temperance, and courage. Rome is a culture that is steeped in enthymematic reasoning, which is why Quintilian demands his perfect citizen orator be knowledgeable in all fields. Thus, with regard to rhetoric, we should not be surprised to find Quintilian providing copious amounts of readings for his students from all different genres. He is not recommending them, he is requiring them for the perfect citizen orator.
When we reach Augustine, however, we find a clear prioritization of those “wise” authors, “wise” referring to any text or message which forwards the Christian doctrine.
Furthermore, they are not just strongly encouraged for Christian eloquence, but a requirement as seen in Augustine’s use of the gerundive. This would mean that learning eloquence, within the Augustinian framework, would demote any of the Greek or Roman authorities to which Quintilian is referring as secondary steps to eloquence. Augustine is not attempting to build a Roman citizen orator, but a Christian preacher. Thus, the goal is drastically different than Quintilian’s and, consequently, so is his rhetoric. Augustine is not making decisions for the betterment of Rome, but rather is making decisions for the benefit of the Kingdom of God. This should not imply, however, that Augustine is simply unconcerned with earthly affairs; to say such a thing would be a great disservice to the bishop of Hippo as he is writing de Doctrina in order to better spread the eternal message 126
here on earth. Rather, we find that Augustine’s judgment is not based on the cardinal virtues (which would be held by Quintilian’s good Roman) but by the Christian virtues: faith, hope, and love. Thus, from the Christian mindset there is no need for a wide variety of knowledge to make decisions because God has already provided all of the answers. If you are not sure if you have been wronged by your neighbor, turn to the Scriptures. If you feel your neighbor has wronged you but are unsure whether you should seek revenge, turn to the Scriptures. We should not be surprised, then, that when preachers are unsure about how to become eloquent, Augustine responds, “Turn to the Scriptures.”
Quintilian and Augustine are working with different cultural frameworks—the good Roman and the good Christian, respectively—and therefore greatly disagree about who should be imitated. Quintilian says, “Imitate a lot of people, but only to a certain extent” whereas Augustine is more than comfortable to say, “Imitate Christian authors to the greatest extent that you can.”
In the previous chapters, we have examined three key terms in the rhetorical visions of late Imperial Rome: Obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio. Here, we examine what these considerations have taught us about rhetoric in their day and perhaps some hints of how rhetorical style can be more fully understood in our own time. 127
Chapter Five: Conclusion
This thesis was inspired by the article “The Literary Criticism of Photius,” by
George Kustas. In this work, Kustas analyzed the stylistic principles of Photius, the ninth century C.E. archbishop of Constantinople, and argued that they had been adapted from
Hermogenes of Tarsus, the second century C.E. Greek scholar, in order to critique literature from a Christian perspective. To defend this argument, Kustas examined the use of technical terminology in stylistic criticism in both Hermogenes and Photius, isolating similarities and differences. Through this comparison, Kustas was able to observe a
“Christianization” of style in the Greek speaking Byzantine East which prompted the following questions:
RQ 1: What are the differences in the Christian and Pagan use of technical terms regarding style?
RQ 2: How did these particular differences occur?
By analyzing the technical terminology used in book four in Augustine’s de Doctrina and books eight and ten of Quintilian’s de Institutio, we were able to answer our first research question.
I. Research Question One
Through a close reading of three technical terms—obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio—we have certainly discovered a a difference in the Christian and Pagan use of technical terms regarding style, resulting in the Christianization of stylistic principles in the Latin West. 128
The first technical term that we observed was obscuritas and the results were remarkably interesting. By observing Quintilian and Augustine using obscuritas differently, we found the term consistent at a practical level. We initially observed that
Quintilian holds perspecuitas (clarity) as the primary virtue of eloquence. Consequently, obscuritas is held to be the primary vice. Therefore, we explicated several ways in which
Quinitlian tells his readers to avoid obscuritas. Then, we analyzed obscuritas in book four of de Doctrina Christiana where we found that Augustine justifies obscurity in the
Scriptures, but maintains that the preacher must primarily seek virtue. Next, we looked at
Camper’s article, “The Stylistic Virtues of Clarity and Obscurity in Augustine of Hippo’s
De Doctrina Christiana,” where it was claimed that Augustine opposes Quintilian’s advice concerning obscuritas. However, we found that Camper was overreaching in this claim. As was shown, Quintilian is no strict grammarian and urges his orator to speak as clearly as possible in all rhetorical situations. Camper’s article recognizes that Augustine allows obscuritas for the Scriptures, a novel idea for rhetoric, but never condones obscure language from his preachers. Thus, we plainly see that both Quintilian and Augustine were in agreement that the orator’s primary goal is to be understood by their audience.
Therefore, we did not see a Christianization of style with regard to obscuritas for orators.
However, we cannot overlook the rhetorical ramifications of Augustine’s defense of obscuritas in the Scriptures. What we find is that this particular discussion surrounding obscuritas is a small part of a larger conversation: the religious philosophy on substance versus appearance. Christianity constantly maintains that while an object may appear to be something, it is truly something else. For example, communion wine does not represent 129
the blood of Christ, it is the blood of Christ. The wine is just the physical appearance, the redeeming blood is the true substance. As communication scholars, we are interested in obscuritas because it functions the same way as the communion wine, only rhetorically.
Obscuritas, for Augustine, is a rhetorical tool for God’s self-disclosure. It becomes a rhetorical strategy for highlighting eternal ideas which are incommunicable. The reader must strain through the obscure passages of the Scriptures and, after enough struggle, understands a message that could not be said. Therefore, the Christianization of obscuritas creates a fascinating shift in religious communication.
Our study of gravitas also yielded interesting results. We began by establishing the classical definition of the term gravitas to be a virtuous quality of a Roman leader, typically meaning “importance” or “dignified.” Then, we explored what Quintilian meant when he used the term gravitas. Unsurprisingly, we found that Quintilian uses gravitas in a similar fashion to the classical definition. The difference, however, is that Quintilian uses gravitas rhetorically to refer to a “serious” tone which denotes the “weight” or
“importance,” rather than attributing the technical term to the orator himself. Augustine, on the other hand, uses gravitas in a drastically different way. By analyzing the examples in Table 4, we immediately saw that in book four of de Doctrina Christiana, Augustine almost exclusively used the adjectival form gravis. This was an indication that perhaps
Augustine viewed the technical term gravitas more as a description of another noun, rather than as an objectified idea. Through a close reading of the examples in Table 4, our hunch proved to be correct. Augustine uses the term gravis to refer to an individual or a 130
group of individuals who are able to discern “substance” or “truth” in the Christian teachings.
Since the focus of gravitas shifted from an object to the description of correct judgment, Augustine allows the audience to be considered gravis. This is drastically different than what we observed in Quintilian who always used gravitas in connection with the orator’s style, never the audience. Furthermore, because gravis is concerned with correct judgment, there is no prerequisite of formal education within the Christian vision to being considered gravis. The homeless man may be a part of the serious-minded group
(graves homines) if he is able to appreciate the truth of the Christian teachings, whereas the educated men (quisquam studiorsorum) may not be considered graves if their judgment is faulty. This is not only strikingly different from Quintilian, who could not imagine an uneducated man as possessing gravitas, but strikingly different than any of
Augustine’s rhetorical predecessors. This “all inclusive” mindset of gravitas is a serious shift in how human nature was viewed. Augustine is pulling the rug beneath a caste system dividing nobility and peasant and constructing a widely new framework for civilization. The principle of equality, being argued by Augustine, implies that the sheep are just as valuable as the shepherd; that the farmer may be as dignified (gravis) as the king. We need not struggle hard to imagine how this perspective would strike the ears of a fifth century C.E. aristocrat. The shift of gravis’s meaning implies more than just giving a new title to the lower class; it lays the foundations for such concepts as women’s suffrage, racial equality, and even democracy. As communication scholars, we are very interested in the process of redefining gravitas and its role in breaking down socio-economical 131
barriers. Therefore, we have seen the Christianization of gravitas in three ways: it focuses on correct judgment, it expands beyond the orator to the audience, and it no longer requires any formal education.
The next technical term that we studied was imitatio where, again, we found three interesting results. Our first finding focused on the extent to which Quintilian and
Augustine endorsed imitatio as a means to eloquence. While both rhetors regard imitatio as a necessary tool for the orator to become eloquent, they drastically disagreed about the extent to which it should be used. Quintilian viewed imitatio as necessary for the orator’s training but never sufficient. In fact, Quintilian felt so strongly about this that he refers to imitatio on its own as disgraceful (turpe). We attributed this largely to the Roman culture surrounding Quintilian while he was writing, calling special attention to the cursus honorum. Quintilian was writing for the perfect citizen-orator who had no higher purpose than the state. Furthermore, citizens gained honors not merely by repeating the deeds of their ancestors, but by exceeding them. Consequently, Quintilian refuses to acknowledge that imitatio would be sufficient for his citizen-orator to develop perfect eloquence.
Augustine, on the other hand, was perfectly content to suggest that his preacher read and imitate other authors to become eloquent. Augustine argued that the rules of eloquence could be learned at a young age, in a time of leisure, but that these rhetorical rules were not crucial in learning how to rouse the emotions of a crowd. We argued that this was due to Augustine’s goals for the Christian audience which was to create citizens for the Kingdom of God. Thus, it is not the preacher’s responsibility to compete with 132
other preachers. Instead, preachers should humbly learn eloquence through recognizing the stylistic virtues in other texts and imitating them.
The second finding from studying imitatio was the role that assimilation plays in becoming eloquent for Quintilian and Augustine. Quintilian recommends a large reading list for his student in 10.1 and recognizes the benefit of the student assimilating various virtues of style. For Quintilian, the primary concern for the process of assimilation is to become eloquent. Augustine, too, encourages the student to be steeped in eloquent texts but clearly has a different goal in mind. Augustine clarifies that the student should immerse himself in “wise” texts—Christian teachings—and believes that eloquence will naturally develop if these texts are read often enough. Augustine’s primary goal, however, is not that the student assimilate stylistic virtues, but rather that the student assimilate the moral philosophies of these Christian texts. This brings us to our third finding.
Finally, we saw a difference in who Quintilian and Augustine would encourage the orator to imitate. Quintilian believes that the orator should read and be familiar with a large variety of authors in every genre. This would allow the orator to adapt his style in accordance with the rhetorical situation. If the orator is only familiar with a light-hearted author, the orator will be ill equipped to speak with gravitas. Consequently, Quintilian provides the reader with an extensive list of Greek and Roman authors to be read in 10.1.
This, too, may be attributed to Quintilian’s overall goal: creating the perfect citizen- orator. The Roman mindset was largely enthymematic, requiring as much information about a situation as possible before making any informed decision in accordance with the cardinal virtues. Therefore, we were not surprised to find Quintilian recommending a 133
broad reading list to his student. Augustine, on the other hand, clearly prioritizes one genre over all of the others: the “wise” texts of the Christian teachings. Reading these
Christian texts is not merely a recommendation for Augustine, but rather a requirement.
Evidence for this was suggested by Augustine’s use of the verb imitor in the gerundive form, which denotes a sense of “necessity.” Thus, Augustine does not say the preacher can imitate other Christian authors, but that the preacher needs to imitate other Christian authors. Consequently, the Greek and Roman authors, to which Quintilian had referred his readers, are demoted to secondary sources for learning eloquence under the Augustinian framework. This is most likely the result of Augustine’s cultural mindset as a Christian.
Enthymematic reasoning is not lost on Augustine, but the requirement for a stock-pile of sources becomes irrelevant. Unlike Quintilian, Augustine believes the Christian does not need “as much information as possible” to make an informed decision, but “as much
Christian wisdom” as possible. This wisdom is, of course, found in the Christian texts and extends to solving the stylistic dilemmas of the preacher. Thus, we have seen the
Christianization of style in obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio. Now we will argue that each of these findings may be attributed to Augustine subjecting the Roman cardinal virtues— prudence, justice, temperance, and courage—to the definition of Christian virtus: the perfect love of God.
II. Research Question Two
When we take a closer look at the findings from the Chrisitanization of gravitas and imitatio, we find a common thread: the redefinition of virtus (virtue). Therefore, we will briefly look at how sublimating the Pagan cardinal virtues (prudence, justice, 134
temperance, and courage) to the new Augustinan defintion of virtus may account for the
Christianization of stylistic principles.
Unfortunately, understanding the Roman definition of virtus is not an easy task because it has two very distinct usages. In his book Roman Manliness: “Virtus” and the
Roman Republic, Myles McDonnell describes why virtus may be viewed in two ways:
…the pervasive influence of Hellenism on mid- and late-republican Rome, not only altered the meaning of the word virtus, but the idea of manliness itself. As a consequence, two distinct conceptions of the term developed—one traditionally Roman and essentially martial in nature, and the other Greek-influenced and primarily ethical (9).
Virtus, then, had a pre- and post-Hellenistic definition: one functioning as a militaristic term denoting the idea of “courage” (McDonnell 59) and the other being influenced by the Greek word ’αρετή, conveying a type of “ethical excellence” (McDonnell 107).
Regardless of how the term was used, however, virtus was a highly sought after quality for the Roman aristocracy. Nathan Rosentstein tells us:
Virtus, Gloria, dignitas, and a constellation of associated ideals represented the highest aspirations of aristocratic endeavor, and although in the abstract the qualities these words defined were capable of various manifestations, only rarely and awkwardly in fact could they be revealed apart from service to the state. Hence the vital importance of winning public office and thereby gaining the chance to display them: the moral superiority that their possessions implied, quite as much as membership in the senate or noble birth, enabled individuals to stake their claims to privileged status and define themselves as part of the ruling elite (1).
For the Roman, then, virtus was not necessarily being ethically excellent for the sake of ethics, but rather for the betterment of the state and the “moral superiority” that came 135
along with the term. Consistent with the Roman attitude, even ethics becomes a competition. Possessing virtus was a way for the Roman to set himself not only apart from other citizens, but above them. There were four primary virtutes which stood apart from the rest which are known as the cardinal virtues. The cardinal virtues (prudence, justice, temperance, and courage) originated with Plato in his Republic (427e), but were restated by Cicero: nam virtus est animi habitus naturae modo atque rationi consentaneus…
Habet igitur partes quattuor: prudentiam, iustitiam, fortitudinem, temperantiam [Virtue may be defined as a habit of mind in harmony with reason and the order of nature…It has four parts: wisdom, justice, courage, temperance; de Inventione 2.159]. Thus, we can see that the cardinal virtues were an active part of political life, at least being recognized by
Cicero, the most famous Roman statesmen, and came with a “moral superiority” that would be very appealing to Roman aristocracy. Furthermore, we have no reason to believe that virtus had significantly changed between the late-republic (Cicero’s time) and early Imperialism (Quintilian’s time). In fact, Quintilian’s rigorous moral standard for his ideal citizen-orator suggests that he too felt virtus to be a necessary requirement for a leadership position in Rome.
When we reach Augustine just a few centuries later, however, we find a drastic difference in the way virtus is conceived. When we turn to Augustine’s work, de Civitate
Dei, we find virtus redefined:
Nam et amor ipse ordinate amandus est, quo bene amatur quod amandum est, ut sit in nobis virtus qua vivitur bene. Unde mihi videtur, quod definitio brevis et vera virtutis ordo est amoris (15.22). 136
For love itself is to be ordinately loved, because we do well to love that which, when we love it, makes us live well and virtuously. So that it seems to me that it is a brief but true definition of virtue to say, it is the order of love.
For Augustine, virtus is the correct prioritization of affection. C.S. Lewis explains this ordo amoris further when he states that, for Augustine, virtus is “the ordinate condition of the affections in which every object is accorded that kind of degree of love which is appropriate to it” (The Abolition of Man 6). The person who places money over family, for instance, would not be considered as having virtus by Augustine’s standards because it is an inappropriate order of love. It should be no surprise, then, that Augustine views the love of God as the highest possible virtus. In de Moribus Ecclesiae Catholicae,
Augustine states quod si virtus ad beatum vitam nos ducit, nihil omnino esse virtutem affirmaverim nisi summum amorem Dei [as to virtue leading us to a happy life, I hold virtue to be nothing else than perfect love of God; ch. 15]. Even more interestingly, however, Augustine redefines all of the Roman cardinal virtues around this idea of love:
Sed hunc amorem non cuiuslibet sed Dei esse diximus, id est summi boni, summae sapientae summaeque concordiae. Quare definire etiam sic licet, ut temperantiam dicamus esse amorem Deo sese integrum incorruptumque servantem, fortitudinem amorem omnia propter Deum facile perferentem, iustiam amorem Deo tantum servientem et ob hoc bene imperantem ceteris quae homini subiecta sunt, prudientiam amorem bene discernentem ea quibus adiuvetur in Deum ab his quibus impediri potest (de Moribus Ecclesiae Catholicae, 15).
The object of this love is not anything, but only God, the chief good, the highest wisdom, the perfect harmony. So we may express the definition thus: that temperance is love keeping itself entire and incorrupt for God; fortitude is love bearing everything readily for the sake of God; justice is love serving God only, and therefore 137
ruling well all else, as subject to man; prudence is love making a right distinction between what helps it towards God and what might hinder.
For Augustine, then, we see the Pagan cardinal virtues redefined through the idea of love which has an obvious consequence: virtus is now obtained through humbling yourself before your fellow man and, more importantly, becoming a slave to God. This could not be more different from the Pagan conception of virtus which, whether it was defined as physical superiority on the battlefield or ethical superiority in the senate, centered around the idea of superiority. Therefore, when we turn to the Christianization of stylistic principles, we can see that it is the direct result of this redefinition of virtus.
As we saw, gravitas was Christianized in three ways: it became a matter of correct judgment rather than denoting a “serious tone,” it was extended to the audience, and it no longer required any formal education. Each of these findings is intimately related to the new Christian definition of virtus. Augustine uses gravis to refer to those who are able to correctly discern the eternal substance of the Christian teachers.
Furthermore, Augustine says that virtus is the appropriate “order of love,” obviously prioritizing the love of God. Therefore, we may reasonably suggest the Christian conception of virtus initially requires the individual to be gravis because in order to love
“properly,” one would first have to understand the substance of God’s wisdom. This is not to say that gravis is sufficient for possessing virtus under the Christian framework. As we know, there is a difference between understanding and acting, only one of which is required for gravis, and both of which are required for virtus. Gravis refers to those who understand; virtus refers to those who understand and act. It is for this reason that 138
Augustine says that there are some people who are so hard hearted that they will neither gain from understanding the message nor delighting in the style of the speaker because neither of these will move them to action:
Quid enim haec duo conferunt homini qui et confitetur verum et collaudat eloquium nec inclinat assensum, propter quem solum, cum aliquid suadetur, rebus quae dicuntur invigilat dicentis intentio? (4.78).
How do those two things benefit a person who admits the truth and praises the style but does not give his assent—which is the whole point of the speaker’s tireless concentration on the subject-matter of his address when advocating a particular course of action?
Augustine views gravis not as a rhetorical concept, like Quintilian, but as the first necessary stepping-stone to becoming a Christian citizen possessing true virtus.
Furthermore, because there are no limitations for who may possess Christian virtus, we would expect that gravis has no limitations as well. Essentially, redefining virtus has taken the competitive nature away from the Roman spirit which naturally brought along the ramifications associated with gravitas. When Quintilian describes his perfect citizen- orator speaking with gravitas, it is a distinguished mark of the speaker’s rhetorical abilities. Gravitas, for Quintilian, makes the speaker more effective, better even, than other orators. Augustine, on the other hand, is unconcerned with competition. As a result, the audience may be considered gravis regardless of education. Augustine is attempting to create virtuous citizens in the Kingdom of God, which, according to the Christian teachings, does not exclude people based on socio-economical status. Consequently, this openness spills over into many areas of Christianity, including Augustine’s use of the 139
term gravis. Another area in which Augustine’s definition of virtus changes certain principles of style may be seen in imitatio.
As we observed, Quintilian uses imitatio to refer to a necessary, though insufficient, tool for becoming eloquent. Quintilian provides a large reading list composed of both Greek and Roman authors in a wide variety of subjects. This was largely attributed to the enthymematic nature of Quintilian’s mindset. The good Roman citizen would make decisions by gathering as much information about an issue as possible in order to make an informed decision. Augustine, however, does not require a stockpile of information to solve a problem because, according to the Christian teachings,
God has provided all of the answers. Therefore, Augustine considers imitation a sufficient tool for becoming eloquent, but the texts that should be read clearly emphasize those which were written by Christian authors. This was attributed to the fact that
Augustine’s goal is to have his preacher primarily assimilate the “wisdom” of Christian texts and believes eloquence will come along naturally. Again, this is an obvious result of redefining virtus under a Christian framework. The objective for the virtuous citizen in the Kingdom of God is to have “ordered love” while on earth. Thus, this process requires one to prioritize affection. This is, often times, easier said than done. We know Augustine argues that love of God is the most essential aspect of virtus, but what about everything else? To what extent should we value money, family, or friends? These questions are much less cut and dry but, as we said above, Augustine believes these problems may be solved enthymematically if information is drawn from Christian teachings. This is clearly why Augustine says that Christian preachers ought to imitate other virtuous Christians. 140
The goal is first to assimilate the “wisdom” of the Christian writers, and afterwards pick up their eloquence naturally. Augustine is prioritizing “wisdom” over eloquence, or, better still, prioritizing his affection for these. Quintilian is working under a different framework, in which the highest good is being the best. Imitation is a great too, for
Quintilian, but it will at best make the orator equal with his predecessors, not superior to them. Augustine’s virtus reprioritizes values and puts “winning” very low on the list. As a result, imitatio is promoted from a necessary tool to becoming eloquent, to a sufficient one.
Lastly, we should also mention that Augustine’s Christian virtus helps to explain why we found no striking results when we analyzed obscuritas for the modern preacher.
Quintilian and Augustine clearly have different goals in mind for their readers, but both rhetors require clarity for fulfilling these goals. For Quintilian’s political orator, obscuritas would never be a beneficial rhetorical tool. The objective is to make the judge have no choice but to understand the message being delivered. On the other hand, it is true that Augustine defends obscuritas in the Scriptures, but this is distinct from and irrelevant to what he is teaching his readers. For Augustine’s preacher, obscuritas is always a hindrance. Christian orators should clarify Christian teachings, not obscure them. Thus, whether teaching someone to be the perfect citizen-orator in Rome, or teaching Christians how to appropriately reprioritize the objects of their affection, obscuritas has no place for the Pagan or Christian speaker. 141
III. Limitations and Future Research
While this study contributed valuable insight into the Christianization of stylistic principles in the Latin West, there is still much work left to be accomplished in this area and a few limitations to overcome. One limitation that faced this study was the focus on only two books of a twelve-volume work. De Institutio Oratoria is a comprehensive and massively detailed text that focuses on the education of the perfect citizen-orator from birth until retirement. None of the books can be fully understood when read in isolation because, frankly, each book will in some way inform the others. Thus, while the other books were not disregarded in preparation for this study and we may confidently expect consistent use of each technical term throughout the entire text, we may uncover even more valuable information if we extend our scope of Quintilianic rhetoric beyond books eight and ten. The same may be said about Augustine’s de Doctrina. . Furthermore, we have so much writing from Augustine that we could explore obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio in others texts such as in his Confessiones, de Civitate Dei, or de Trinitate. This type of follow up research is, though tedious, necessary and would be greatly beneficial to scholarship. C.S. Lewis defends this position in the introduction of “On the
Incarnation” when he states:
Every age has its own outlook. It is especially good at seeing certain truths and specially liable to make certain mistakes. We all, therefore, need books that will correct the characteristic mistakes of our own period. And that means the old books (2).
Lewis maintains that studying History is not done for its own sake. Instead, we study the
“old books” in order to analyze the mistakes of the past to better guide our future. By analyzing the Christianization of technical vocabulary from Quintilian to Augustine, we 142
are recognizing a major shift in human thought. We are seeing the hegemonic outlook of classical Rome slowly evolve into a more inclusive ideology. Furthermore, we are seeing this evolution take place through the language being used. If we wish to feel the heartbeat of current communicative shifts, we need the old books to show where the pulse was to be found in the past. With this knowledge at our fingertips, we may better illuminate our modern blind spots and guide our research accordingly.
Another hindrance this study faced was in the choosing of representatives for Pagan and Christian rhetoric. While Quintilian and Augustine are certainly authorities in their respective fields, they are not the only authorities that existed. Though we defended the prioritization of Quintilian over Cicero as standing for Pagan rhetoric due to the structured nature of de Institutio, it would be worthwhile to investigate the technical vocabulary in Cicero’s de Oratore and de Doctrina as well. Perhaps, even, we could analyze the same terms in de Oratore and de Instituto to see if we find any differences between Ciceronian rhetoric in the late-republic and Quintilianic rhetoric in the early
Imperial era. Though we may assume there is no large difference between Cicero’s and
Quintilian’s use of obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio, it is currently nothing more than an educated assumption. Furthermore, we have mentioned in this study that Augustine was writing at a time when there was a debate about the extent to which the Christian author should use Pagan rhetoric in his sermons. Perhaps a future study could explore the use of these technical terms from the perspective of another Church Father such as Jerome or
Ambrose. Both of these Christian writers have texts which may be explored to get a more 143
comprehensive view of the Christianization of Pagan style, particularly in that time of transitioning into Christian rhetoric.
We must also remember that when studying technical terminology, conclusions cannot be as exactly drawn as they may be in the hard sciences. When working with translations, both original and taken from others, from a language that is largely studied in secondary school, read with ease by few, and seldom spoken in today’s world, we must always begin with general conclusions which require follow up studies. Thus, in the future, it may be worthwhile to go through each example in Table 1-6 and analyze various English translations of de Institutio and de Doctrina. For instance, where Green translates populo gravi to mean “serious congregation” in 4.84, Sister Thérèse Sullivan translates the same as “strong people” (100-103). The English phrase “serious congregation” and “strong people” imply very different concepts and it is probable that populo gravi falls somewhere in between. The question, then, is to find where.
Obviously, translating is not an exact science and observing past translations and commentaries can only help us understand how Quintilian and Augustine were employing technical terminology.
Finally, this study was limited to just three technical terms—obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio. Future research could expand past these three terms and find others related to eloquence worth investigating. For instance, how did figures and tropes function for
Pagan and Christian rhetoric? What role does hyperbole and metaphor play in Quintilian and Augustine, respectively? How would iucundus functions for the Christian preacher?
There is seemingly no limit to where the research may be taken in this regard. 144
This study has investigated the different uses of specific technical terminology in
Pagan and Christian rhetoric under the canon “style.” We have clearly observed that there was certainly a Christianization of obscuritas, gravitas, and imitatio. Furthermore, we were able to account for two of these changes through observing Augustine’s definition of virtus under the Christian framework. This new definition of virtus reprioritizes
Roman values of competitiveness and reasoning which naturally has certain ramifications for rhetoric, and more specifically with how eloquence is viewed. Through this study, we have not merely studied the Christianization of stylistic principles, but have become more informed on a specific aspect of the history of rhetoric. By thoroughly understanding the changes rhetoric underwent throughout various time periods in history, we may better account for the current condition and future movements of the field. Thus, the history of rhetoric is not studied for no end, but as a way of illuminating our current blind spots and making informed decisions about how we want rhetoric to operate for posterity. 145
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