Greco-Roman paganism, like polytheism in other parts of the world, had its origins in animistic beliefs, the personification of benign and maleficent natural forces as anthropomorphic gods. The practice of religion took the form of sacrifices to appease, or gain favor from, the gods, on extraordinary occasions human sacrifices but usually animal sacrifices or offerings of food and incense. These actions were performed by priests and accompanied by formulaic words, but pagan priests did not preach to the people. Religious beliefs and morality were primarily taught and learned from literature, including the Homeric poems and Greek drama, later from the lectures and writings of philosophers, especially the Stoics, who incorporated traditional religion into their doctrines by means of allegorical interpretation. As seen in the last chapter, in later antiquity the speeches of sophists often directly or indirectly reinforced traditional religious belief. Parallel to the official cults of Greek and Roman cities, there existed, especially among Romans, a private religion of household and agricultural gods, and there were also mystery religions, of which the most famous were Orphism, the Eleusinian Mysteries, and the cult of the Great Mother. Individuals could be initiated into these mysteries and obtain a knowledge (gn
sis) that was thought to insure survival of the soul after death. Greco-Roman religion was tolerant and easily absorbed new gods and new cults, such as Isis from Egypt and Mithra from Persia, often identifying foreign gods with traditional Greek divinities.
Judaism originated in polytheism and the belief that among the many gods there was one special god of the Israelites. It developed into a monotheism that was centered on the divine word, enunciated in an authoritative sacred text. Judaism and its derivatives, Christianity and Islam, are speech-based religions to a much greater extent than Greco-Roman paganism. The stages of creation as described in the first chapter of Genesis (after the initial creation of heaven and earth) result from God’s speech: “God said, ‘Let there be light. . . .’” Throughout the Old Testament, God speaks directly to patriarchs and prophets, and they in turn convey his message by speech to the people, much as the early Greek bard regarded himself as inspired by, and owing his words to, the muses. The fourth chapter of Exodus, in which Aaron emerges as the “orator” of the Jews, is an important description of Hebrew rhetoric. In terms of invention it relies heavily on proclamation based on the divine authority of the speaker, but it supports this with logical argument. Note the examples and enthymemes used even in the Ten Commandments to gain persuasion: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the house of Egypt. . . .” or “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.” The rhetoric of the Old Testament also includes features of style. The psalmists and prophets employed a rich imagery, largely drawn from nature and pastoral agriculture, later taken over by Christian preachers: the shepherd and his flock, the vine and its branches, and so on. The Book of Proverbs, drawing in part on Egyptian wisdom literature, contains rhetorical precepts, for example, “The wise of heart is called a man of discernment, and pleasant speech increases persuasiveness. . . . Pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body” (Proverbs 16:21–24).1 By Hellenistic times Jewish worship included reading from the law and the prophets and preaching by a rabbi, who interpreted the sacred texts and applied their message to the life of the congregation. In the New Testament both Jesus and Paul are described as preaching in synagogues. This is the origin of the Christian homily. In Greek, homilia originally meant “conversation,” but it became the term for a simple sermon based on the interpretation of Scripture and was later used for all preaching except epideictic sermons. From it comes “homiletics,” meaning the study of preaching. By Hellenistic times, Jews were also studying Greek grammar, rhetoric, and philosophy, and in a few instances (e.g., Caecilius of Calacte) even teaching classical rhetoric.
Christian rhetoric is a complex subject; it owes much to Jewish traditions, but New Testament writers chose Greek as their vehicle of communication with the world and in so doing tacitly accepted some conventions of Greek rhetoric. When early Christians spoke, wrote, heard, or read religious discourse in Greek, even if relatively uneducated, they had expectations of the form the message would take and of what would be persuasive. This was complicated, however, by the extent to which writers observed or disregarded the conventions of classical literary genres: oratory, biography, historiography, or the literary epistle. Some of the New Testament authors, including Paul, Luke, and the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, were well educated, were familiar with some Greek literature, and used devices of classical rhetoric freely. Greek rhetorical schools existed throughout Palestine, Syria, and Asia Minor, the birthplace of Christianity. Other New Testament writers, Mark in particular, were much less familiar with Greek rhetoric or less sympathetic to it. Mark’s Gospel is the clearest example of what may be called “radical Christian rhetoric,” a cast of thought that prefers authoritative proclamation to rational argument. Matthew’s Gospel takes a middle ground; it is strongly Jewish in focus, but passages in Matthew that parallel language in Mark often convert proclamations into enthymemes, that is, they add supporting reasons. In recent years, scholars have made an increasing use of classical rhetoric as a tool for understanding the New Testament, and an extensive bibliography of the subject now exists.2 One fundamental discovery has been the extent to which the Greek concept of pistis, the “means of persuasion” as taught in the rhetorical schools, underlies and helped to form the Christian concept of pistis, meaning “faith.”3 Here only a brief outline can be offered of the history of the reaction to, and reception of, classical rhetoric by Christian speakers and writers. A major source is Ecclesiastical History, written by Eusebius in the fourth century.4
Deliberative, judicial, and epideictic speeches are quoted in the Gospels, Acts of the Apostles, and Revelations, utilizing in various degrees what was taught in schools of rhetoric or found in the works of Greek historians, and some of the Epistles of Paul closely resemble speeches. There is, however, also a bias against rhetoric in the New Testament. In Mark 13:11, Jesus tells his disciples to take no thought of what they are to say if brought to trial, “but say whatever is given you in that hour, for it is not you who speak but the Holy Spirit.” A famous passage is in the second chapter of Paul’s First Epistle to the Corinthians, where he seems to reject the whole of classical rhetoric: “I did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God in lofty words of wisdom; for I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. . . . Yet among the mature we do impart wisdom, although it is not a wisdom of this age or the rulers of this age, who are doomed to pass away. But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which was decreed before the ages for our glorification.” Paul is trying to counteract the influence of Apollos or others who had been preaching in Corinth and whose eloquence had undermined his influence there, but he himself is a master of many techniques of persuasion.5 Corinth was a prosperous and sophisticated Greek city; it is not surprising that eloquence should have an appeal there.
Unlike Judaism, Christianity had missionary zeal—one reason it awakened Roman opposition. From the second century we have a considerable number of “apologetic” works in both Greek and Latin, in the form of speeches, letters, or dialogues, which were addressed to audiences educated in rhetoric and sought to explain Christianity and to defend it against slanders heaped upon it by its opponents. Charges included the allegation that Christians met at dawn to kill small children, drink their blood, and eat their flesh. Among the more famous of these works in Greek are the Apology of Justin Martyr, addressed to the emperor Antoninus Pius; the Apology of Athenagoras, which uses references to Greek philosophers and poets to support the claims that Christian worship and teaching were innocent, reasonable, and moral; and Tatian’s Oration to the Greeks. The latter work, written around A.D. 167, is an odd mixture of sophistic cleverness and Christian piety, using figures of speech and quotations from Greek poets. The Greek apologists were contemporary with the great sophists of the second century, they utilized Attic Greek rather than the Koine of the previous generations of Christians, and their works often resemble compositions of the sophists in style, though not in form or content. In Latin, the most impressive apologetic works are those of Tertullian (c. 160–225), a native of Carthage who had practiced as an advocate and taught rhetoric in Rome before his conversion. His Apologeticus, a fiery invective in the style of Roman declamation, is addressed to the governors of Roman provinces and seeks to refute the arguments against Christianity in judicial terms. A topos much employed by the apologists is to grant that there is some truth in Greek philosophy, but to claim that it was derived indirectly from Moses. Plato, for example, is alleged to have learned much from Jews in Egypt.
By the end of the second century something approximating a canon of the Old and New Testaments existed. These sacred works were regarded as containing all that needed be known to secure salvation, but they required interpretation; in particular, many things in the Old Testament, if taken literally, seemed inconsistent with the teaching of the New Testament. The most important figure in the early development of Christian exegesis was Origen (c. 184–254), who taught in Alexandria and in Caesarea in Palestine. Origen regarded the Bible as inspired in every respect and arranged by God in a series of levels (On First Principles 4.1.11). The “corporeal” level is the literal meaning of the text; a second level is the moral meaning, in which the text provides a typology for the life of human beings; the highest level is the spiritual or theological meaning, for example, discovering in the text reference to the incarnation or resurrection of Christ. The spiritual level is always present but veiled, and its elucidation is the chief objective of the exegete or preacher. This can only be done by allegorical interpretation. Techniques of allegorical interpretation of the Homeric poems had been developed much earlier by the Stoics and had been applied to the Old Testament by the Jewish philosopher Philo in the first century. Origen and his successors adapted allegory to the special needs of Christianity at about the time that Neoplatonists were beginning to employ allegory in reading Greek poetry and philosophy.
In the third century some Christians deliberately adopted sophistic genres in addressing educated Christian audiences. The earliest extant example of the use of the structure and topics of classical epideictic oratory to create Christian panegyric is apparently the farewell speech of Gregory Thaumaturgus to Origen in 238. Its introduction in particular is that of a student of the sophists practicing panegyric, and throughout the speech there is no mention of Christ. The fourth century was the great age of Christian panegyric in Greek, made possible by the official toleration of Christianity after 313 and the conversion of Constantine and his successors. Speeches by Eusebius, bishop of Caesarea, show stages in this development. The earliest of his panegyrics, quoted in full in Ecclesiastical History 10.4, was delivered on the occasion of the rebuilding of a church in Tyre in 316 or 317 and honors Paulinus, bishop of Tyre, who had directed the effort. Though an eloquent speech, with much amplification, use of figures, and an extended ekphrasis of the church, in other ways it is far from being a panegyric in the sophistic sense. The style is more biblical than classical, and what Eusebius primarily celebrates is the victory of Christianity over its enemies, and the visible and material church at Tyre is made a symbol for the invisible and spiritual Church. A version of a speech given by Eusebius on the occasion of the thirtieth anniversary of Constantine’s accession, July 25, 336, survives, combined with another given at the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem the previous year.6 In the prooemium Eusebius distinguishes between his role as a Christian orator and that of a secular encomiast, but the style is more classical than the speech at Tyre, including references to Homer, and he develops topics of Constantine’s virtues and actions. Finally, Eusebius’ Life of Constantine is a panegyrical biography in four books.7 It includes topics that would be found in a sophistic funeral oration, including an account of the emperor’s parents, his life and virtues, and his death. There is a synkrisis of Constantine with Cyrus and Alexander the Great (1.7–8), an ekphrasis of the Holy Sepulcher (3.34–39), and a description of Constantine as an orator (4.29). Appended to the Life is an example of Constantine’s oratory, To the Assembly of the Saints. Constantine urges his audience to attend to the truth of what he says rather than to his language, and he prays that the Holy Spirit will furnish him with words, but the speech acknowledges the importance of Platonic thought and contains much logical argument, including epicheiremes as described in the Hermogenic On Invention.8
The most important figure in the synthesis of Greek rhetoric and Christianity is Gregory of Nazianzus, rightly regarded as the greatest Greek orator since Demosthenes. His speeches became the preeminent model of Christian eloquence throughout the Byzantine period. In form and style they resemble speeches of the sophists but greatly surpass them in the power of thought and intensity of conviction. The Christian orator had an important new message for the world; he had something to say that the sophists could not match in their nostalgia for the fading Hellenic tradition.
Gregory was born in Cappadocia around A.D. 330. After studying grammar there, rhetoric in Caesarea, and philosophy in Alexandria, about 350 he came to Athens, where he continued studing rhetoric for nine years with Prohaeresius and Himerius. He was joined there by a fellow Cappadocian named Basil, who was an equally important figure in fourth-century Christianity and an orator of note but more hostile to rhetoric than Gregory.9 Basil’s brother was Gregory of Nyssa, the third of the “Cappadocian Fathers”; his panegyrics and funeral orations utilize techniques taught by sophists, but he is most important as a profound theologian deeply indebted to Plato and later Greek philosophy. Gregory of Nazianzus describes his experiences in Athens in an autobiographical poem, in his funeral oration for Basil, and in other works. After Basil’s departure, he taught rhetoric briefly in Athens and probably also on his return to Cappadocia, but he then abandoned rhetoric as a career, was baptized, and was ordained into the clergy. He became bishop of Constantinople, at the time the highest position in the Greek Church, and attained great fame as a preacher in defense of orthodoxy against heresy, but he was ill suited by temperament for ecclesiastical politics and eventually retired to his family’s country estate in Cappadocia, where he wrote letters and poetry, may have edited his speeches into their present form, and died around 390.
Gregory’s surviving works include 45 orations, 244 letters, and a considerable amount of poetry. In his encomium of Saint Cyprian he classifies Christian speeches into three groups: moral edification, teaching of dogma, and celebration of great lives. His Apologeticus (oration 2) describes his ideal of the Christian preacher, which draws on the view of the orator found in Isocrates and the sophists and on the description of the philosophical orator in Plato’s Phaedrus. All of his speeches show the influence of his extensive rhetorical training.10
Gregory’s masterpiece is the funeral oration for his friend Basil (oration 43): “the grandest subject that has ever fallen to the lot of an orator,” as he puts it in the opening lines.11 Basil died in 379 when Gregory was in Constantinople; the speech was not given at the actual funeral but at some later memorial service, and its length indicates that the published version, like that of Pliny’s Panegyricus, is amplified beyond what was actually said. Gregory follows the rules for an epitaphios as found in Menander Rhetor (2.11) but omits the consolation and adds an account of Basil’s death and funeral, which, in Menander’s system, is more usual in a monody delivered immediately after death. The treatment of the traditional headings varies with the degree to which they seemed important for a Christian. Progymnasmatic forms are introduced to amplify or ornament the thought, the most elaborate being a synkrisis of Basil with patriarchs, prophets, and apostles. Greek culture is treated with respect, even reverence, there are repeated references or allusions to Greek literature, and the grand sophistic style is employed throughout, but with biblical allusions and imagery also woven in, and much is said of Basil’s eloquence: “an orator among orators, even before he studied with rhetoricians, a philosopher among philosophers even before he learned the doctrines of philosophers. . . . Eloquence was his byword, from which he culled enough to make it an assistance to him in Christian philosophy, since power of this kind is needed to set forth the objects of our contemplation” (43.13). There is an extended section on Basil’s education, including the time he and Gregory spent together in Athens, “which has been to me, if to anyone, a city truly golden and the patroness of all that is good” (43.14). It is in Pindar (Olympian 6.1), not in the Bible, that Gregory finds the best words to describe their friendship, “a well-built chamber with pillars of gold” (43.20). In the course of this section Gregory utilizes three separate synkriseis: the sacred with the secular, himself and Basil with Orestes and Pylades, and Basil’s moral discipline with that of Minos and Rhadamanthus. Later, in discussion of Basil’s bishopric, there is a synkrisis of the emperor Valens and the Persian king Xerxes that allows Gregory to bring in one of the favorite topoi of Isocrates and the later sophists, a reference to the Persian invasion of Greece when the invaders “walked” over the sea and “sailed” over the land. The most emotional part is the narrative of Basil’s death near the end and the ekphrasis of his funeral, which is followed by a short epilogue, recapitulating Basil’s virtues and then returning to the opening theme of Gregory’s effort to praise him, with a final prayer to Basil in heaven as a saint. The speech as a whole is an eloquent tribute to the theological, intellectual, and moral virtues of its subject, but rather hostile to Basil’s work as a statesman of the Church, and in its emphasis on Basil as preacher neglects the two aspects of his career that had the greatest historical significance: his organization of Eastern monasticism and his reform of the liturgy.
Theological controversy was bitter within the Church between the orthodox (that is, those who eventually won) and heretics (those who eventually lost). All the weapons of rhetoric were used by both sides in life-and-death battles, to which extant texts give great attention. Among the important sources are descriptions and records of what was said at councils of the Church, for here one can see something of rhetoric in actual debate.12 The most important debate in the fourth century was that between the orthodox and the Arians on the question of the nature of Christ in relation to God the Father. Gregory and Basil were both strongly on the orthodox side; its greatest champion was Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, a skilled but unscrupulous dialectician whose invectives are not pleasant reading and whose homilies are ill arranged and saccharin. Athanasius saw rhetoric as a form of lying, cultivated by heretics. The writings of the Arians were largely destroyed, but we do have some homilies by Asterius, an Arian called a “many-headed sophist” by Athanasius and who wrote in a flamboyant Asian style with biblical imagery. Athanasius’ most famous work is his Life of Saint Anthony; though it shows some influence of classical panegyric, it is also antirhetorical, even anti-intellectual, in its unqualified praise for the illiterate holy man who chose to live as a hermit in the Egyptian desert.13 A final important figure in the melding of classical rhetoric into Christianity is John Chrysostom (c. 349–407). He had studied rhetoric with Libanius in Antioch, and it is he more than anyone else who raised the homily, a simple sermon explicating a biblical text, to the level of high rhetorical artistry.14
Of the major Latin Fathers of the Church, five were teachers of rhetoric before their conversion to Christianity: Tertullian in the second century, Cyprian in the third, and Arnobius, Lactantius, and Augustine in the fourth. Not surprisingly, they regarded rhetoric as a useful tool for Christians and use techniques they had once taught to persuade their readers of Christian truth. All engaged in spirited dispute with pagans and heretics. Like Romans generally, they were, however, rather distrustful of philosophical studies, which could lead to heresy. Tertullian speaks with respect of Demosthenes and Cicero (Apologeticus 11 and 15–16); he says that Christians should study rhetoric but not teach it (On Idolotry 10). His own Latin is reminiscent of Tacitus or the schools of declamation. Cyprian, a generation later, writes a more Ciceronian Latin but, with his paganism, put off all interest in literature and never quotes classical authors. Arnobius, in contrast, avoids scriptural quotation and seeks to refute the pagans by quoting their own texts against them. His student Lactantius has earned the title “the Christian Cicero,” from his fine prose style and his great admiration for Cicero. The Latin Father with the most ambivalent attitude toward rhetoric was Jerome (c. 337–97), whose Latin translation of the Bible became the standard version in the West. In his long letter to the virgin Eustachium (Epistles 22), he describes how he tried to reject secular learning and fasted, but then read Cicero. If he tried to read the Hebrew prophets, their style revolted him. He became ill, and preparations were made for his funeral. He dreamed he was in heaven before the judgment seat, being examined about the condition of his soul. In reply to his claim that he was a Christian, the judge replied “You lie; you are a Ciceronian; for ‘where your treasure is there will your heart be also’” (Matthew 6:21). Jerome promised to mend his ways, but it is doubtful if he kept the promise strictly.
These authors wrote apologetic treatises or published attacks on pagans and heretics, and Jerome composed commentaries on the Scriptures; none of them adopted the epideictic forms of Greek sophists. We have already noted that there was rather little Latin imitation of the Greek Second Sophistic except for Pliny’s Panegyric of Trajan. In the fourth century the custom of giving thanks to an emperor or other high official for an administrative appointment continued, or was resumed, in imitation of Pliny. Eleven such speeches survive. The earliest surviving Christian panegyrics in Latin are by Ambrose, bishop of Milan from 375 to 397. These are funeral orations for the emperors Valentinian II and Theodosius; though they are eloquent works, with some of the characteristics of the secular genre, they are also very Christian. Ambrose uses the occasion to develop his view of the emperor as a son of the Church, serving Christ, and subject to the advice of a bishop. Ambrose’s other sermons show him as a powerful homiletic preacher, indebted to the exegetical method of Origen. It was hearing Ambrose use allegorical interpretation that first made it possible for Augustine to accept the Scriptures with full faith (Confessions 5.14.24).
Augustine was born in 354 at Thagaste, about two hundred miles southwest of Carthage on the edge of the African desert. His mother, Monica, was a devout Christian, but Augustine himself did not accept Christianity until he was thirty years old. In his Confessions, surely the greatest work of Latin literature from late antiquity, he describes his education and career in vivid detail. After elementary education at Thagaste he began studying rhetoric in the larger town of Madaura and later studied for three years in Carthage. His goal at this time was to become a pleader in the law courts, but as he looks back at that period in his life he reprimands himself severely and questions the value of rhetorical studies.15 In the course of his studies he came upon Cicero’s dialogue Hortensius, an exhortation to philosophy now lost. This led him to study of philosophy and religion. The Christian Scriptures initially repelled him; his whole education had been the cultivation of literary taste, and he found the Bible in the Latin translation then available “unworthy compared to the dignity of Cicero” (3.5.9). He explored Manichaeism, a version of Zoroastrian dualism, and Academic skepticism as expounded by Cicero, without becoming satisfied. Meanwhile, to support himself he had become a teacher of rhetoric, first in Thagaste, then in Carthage. In 383 he decided to go to Rome to teach; he would earn better fees, and student discipline, a great problem in Carthage, was better there. When the great pagan orator Symmachus was asked to nominate a candidate for the chair of rhetoric in Milan, the administrative capital of the Western empire, Augustine applied. Symmachus listened to him declaim and gave him the nomination. He taught rhetoric in Milan for two academic years. Meanwhile, his quest for religious truth lead him more and more in the direction of accepting Christianity. In the fall of 386 he quietly resigned his chair of rhetoric, giving poor health as the reason, and retired with a group of friends to a country villa for meditation and conversation. From this resulted a series of philosophical dialogues in Ciceronian style. In the spring of 387 he returned to Milan to be baptized. In the following years he went to Ostia, to Rome, to Carthage, and home to Thagaste. In 391 he was ordained a priest at Hippo in North Africa and was bishop of Hippo from 395 until his death in 430.
In 411 Augustine was one of the participants in a church conference at Carthage, called by the emperor to resolve a bitter dispute between the Catholic leaders in North Africa and the heretical group known as Donatists, who might be described as “puritans.” This is worth notice because it is the first public meeting in history of which we have a verbatim account, reporting what was actually said.16 Under the direction of an official appointed by the emperor, stenographers took down every word. Their notes were immediately transcribed, and every speaker was required to read over, and sign his name to, the record, acknowledging that these were the words he used. Only corrections in grammar and syntax were permitted. The conference lasted three days, and we have the record of the first two and part of the third, a valuable document for study of applied rhetoric in this period; there is also an analytical table of contents and, preserved separately, Augustine’s Breviculus, his personal summary of the meeting. One issue was whether the meeting should be regarded as deliberative or judicial as each side tried to dominate discussion. Much of what was said relates to the credentials, or lack of them, of the Donatist bishops. The language of the speakers is extremely convoluted, difficult Latin—what seems to have passed for eloquence in some circles at this time, seen also in some contemporary writings. Augustine’s Breviculus is, however, in his usual elegant Ciceronian style.
A full understanding of Augustine’s evolving view of rhetoric would require discussion of his early dialogues, especially On Order and On the Teacher, as well as many passages in the Confessions, and would require comparison of his theories with the actual practice in his numerous sermons, commentaries, and controversial writings. There is a considerable body of scholarship on these subjects.17 The most important of Augustine’s works for the history of rhetoric is, however, On Christian Doctrine (or On Christian Learning).18 The discussion here will be restricted to that work, which is the only extensive discussion of rhetoric from a Christian point of view by an ancient writer and which had, and continues to have, great influence. The first two-thirds (through 3.25.35) was written in 397, the rest in 426–27. It is thus a mature work, representing Augustine’s view after a lifetime of study and preaching.
In the prologue Augustine says he is writing precepts—thus a hand-book—for treating the Scriptures that will be useful to teachers and anticipates possible objections to his work: a preacher or teacher should not rely solely on divine assistance; that is a form of pride that leads to the extreme position of not reading the Scriptures at all. Book 1 then begins with the statement that there are two needs: that of discovering (inveniendi) what is to be understood in the Bible and of expounding (proferendi) what has been learned there. These roughly correspond to “invention,” based on exegesis, discussed in books 1 through 3, and style (elocutio) as understood in rhetoric, discussed in book 4. All Christian learning concerns either natural objects, which Augustine calls “things” (res), or signs (signa). Book 1 discusses “things”: some things—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—are to be enjoyed; some—these, it eventually emerges, include rhetoric and other secular knowledge—are to be used; some—those whom we love—are to be enjoyed and used. Already in book 1 Augustine’s basic principle of scriptural exegesis is clearly stated: whoever “thinks that he understands the divine scriptures or any part of them so that it does not build the double love of God and of our neighbor does not understand it at all” (1.36.40). This requires the interpretation of “signs” as found in Scripture, the subject of books 2 and 3.
Signs are natural or conventional, literal or figurative, and known, unknown, or ambiguous. Many things in the Bible are covered with a “dense mist”: God did this to conquer human pride; for what is too easily understood frequently seems worthless, and figurative language can teach and delight the reader (2.6.7). This is the common Christian explanation of obscurity in the Scriptures. Interpretation of signs found in the Bible, according to Augustine, requires knowledge of languages, natural objects, numbers, music, history, science, and the arts and crafts. What about pagan literature and philosophy? Should the Christian study these? Augustine’s answer is “yes, within certain limits.” Sophistic reasoning (sophismata) is to be rejected, but it is God’s intent that human beings should use logical argument based on definition and division (2.32.50). Although the rules of eloquence can be used to make falsehoods credible, they can also be used for true purposes; to conciliate an audience by expressions of charity, to narrate facts clearly, or to interest or refresh an audience by varied style is to use principles ordained by God, not to make up some human art (2.36.54). Just as the Israelites had the right to take valuable objects (“Egyptian gold”) with them when they fled from Egypt, so the Christian has a right to take and use rhetoric and other secular knowledge (2.40.60).
Book 3 discusses ambiguous signs. It could be regarded as the Christian counterpart of that part of rhetorical stasis theory concerned with the letter versus the intent of a law, for the Scriptures are in fact law. When literal interpretation causes ambiguity, Augustine believes the text must be understood figuratively. Literal interpretation, especially of the Old Testament, can be dangerous and misleading, but Augustine is not concerned that something true but unintended may be read into a passage. God foresaw whatever is found in the passage and more; the context needs to be considered, and the best guide is the rule of faith—love of God and love of neighbor (3.28.39). Educated readers will recognize in the Scriptures many rhetorical tropes, of which several are named: allegory, enigma, parabola, metaphor, and irony or antiphrasis (3.29.40–41). Book 3 concludes with a discussion of the seven “rules” of Tyconius for the explication of obscurities in Scripture. They are “topics,” some of them what Aristotle would call “specific topics” (e.g., “the Lord and his Body”), others “common topics” (e.g., “species and genus”). Augustine discusses the fifth rule, “Of Times,” in terms of the rhetorical trope synecdoche (3.35.50).
In book 4, Augustine turns to preaching and teaching what has been found in Scripture. The book falls into six parts: introduction (sections 1–5, as numbered in Robertson’s translation), a description of the eloquence of the Bible (6–26), discussion of Cicero’s concept of the “duties of the orator” as they apply to preaching (27–33), a similar discussion of the three kinds of style (33–58), the role of character in persuasion (59–63), and a brief conclusion (64). The rules of rhetoric, he says, should be learned elsewhere, but he does briefly summarize them in a passage that identifies the functions of the four traditional parts of an oration (4.2.3). Rhetoric should be studied by the young, but more is gained by imitation of good models than from knowledge of rule. This includes reading ecclesiastical literature—no specific models are recommended—listening to preachers, writing, and practice speaking.
Earlier in his life Augustine had found the Bible lacking in literary qualities, but by the time of book 4 of On Christian Doctrine he has changed his mind, perhaps in part because of Jerome’s new translation. He gives special attention to tropes, figures, and periodic style in the writings of Paul and Amos; in the latter text, “words were not devised by human industry, but were poured forth from the divine mind both wisely and eloquently, not in such a way that wisdom was directed toward eloquence, but in such a way that eloquence did not abandon wisdom” (4.7.21). The style of Scripture is always appropriate (4.6.9); its preeminent quality, which should also be the quality sought by a preacher, is evidentia, “vivid clarity.” This is in agreement with Aristotle’s view of the virtue of style in On Rhetoric 3.2.1, but Augustine shows no direct knowledge of Aristotle. His only ackowledged source on rhetoric is Cicero. From Cicero—“a certain eloquent man”—he takes the concept of the three “duties of the orator”: to teach, to delight, and to move. Augustine thinks that it is necessary to delight a listener in order to retain him as listener; it is necessary to move him in order to impel him to do what is right (4.12.27). As Cicero had done in Orator, Augustine relates the three duties to the three kinds of style: teaching to the plain style, delighting to the middle style, and moving to the grand style (4.17.34). Examples are cited from the Bible, Cyprian, and Ambrose. The styles should be mingled, but a speech is said to be in the style that predominates (4.22.51). Augustine, in common with most Latin writers, shows no knowledge of Hermogenes’ “ideas” of style. He concludes the discussion of style by saying, “It is the universal office of eloquence in any of these styles to speak in a manner leading to persuasion; and the end of eloquence is persuasion, by speech, of what you intend. In any of these three styles an eloquent man speaks in a manner suitable to persuasion, but if he does not persuade he has not attained the end of eloquence” (4.25.55).
Augustine’s view of the importance of moral character in rhetoric is significantly different from what Aristotle, Cicero, or Quintilian had to say about rhetorical ethos. The private life of the speaker—his works as a Christian and the consistency between his teaching and his actions—has, he thinks, greater weight in persuasion than any verbal eloquence. Under certain circumstances, however, a bad man may be a good orator (4.29.62). Quintilian would have been surprised. What Augustine has in mind is the situation in which a hypocrite has written a sermon that preaches true doctrine but would be unpersuasive to an audience that knew him; it can be persuasive if the sermon is then read aloud by a man known to be virtuous. It became common in later antiquity for priests of little rhetorical ability to read sermons published by others, including those of Augustine.
By the time Augustine wrote On Christian Doctrine, the Roman Empire was nominally Christianized except for some die-hard intellectuals and some country folk (pagani means “those in the country”). He thus does not discuss missionary preaching, which was important in the early Church and for those going out among the barbarians of northern Europe. Nor does he discuss epideictic preaching: no advice is given about funeral oratory or other speeches for special occasions. The preaching and teaching he describes is essentially homiletic—the explanation of Scriptural texts—to be addressed to catechumens (those preparing for baptism in the Church) or Christian congregations that may be ignorant, indifferent, or in danger of heresy. The function of Christian eloquence in Augustine’s system is to explain belief and convert it into works, to move the faithful to the Christian life. It is to be a popular eloquence, addressed to all sorts and conditions of people. Augustine does not distinguish Christian rhetoric from classical, Jewish, or other rhetorics; to him, eloquence is eloquence in any tradition. He does not identify the distinctive imagery Christianity borrowed from the Old Testament. What is Christian about Christian rhetoric is content and values. This means, of course, that Christian rhetoric has its own special topics, which he groups together under the one great heading of love of God and of neighbor. Although he does not discuss the arrangement and unity of a speech, it is clear that to him the Bible and the Christian message have that one great theme of love. Saint Paul preached the crucified and risen Christ and the judgment to come for those who did not believe. Though Augustine discussed such matters elsewhere, it is remarkable how small a part these and other theological “doctrines” play in De Doctrina Christiana, nor does Augustine recommend to Christian preachers the powerful rhetorical weapon they have most favored throughout history: the promise of heaven and the threat of eternal damnation.
1 This passage was the inspiration for Judah Messer Leon, who, in the fifteenth century, wrote The Book of the Honeycomb’s Flow (edited and translated by Rabinowitz), in which he analyzed the Old Testament in terms of classical rhetoric.
2 For an introduction to method, see Kennedy, New Testament Interpretation through Rhetorical Criticism; more recent bibliography is listed in the surveys by Watson, “The New Testament and Greco-Roman Rhetoric.” See also, Robbins, Jesus the Teacher and Patterns of Persuasion; Warner, ed. The Bible as Rhetoric; Watson, Invention, Arrangement, and Style; and Watson, ed. Persuasive Artistry.
3 See Kinneavy, Origins.
4 Translation by Lake and Oulton in the Loeb Classical Library.
5 See Kennedy, New Testament Interpretation, esp. 141–56, and “‘Truth’ and ‘Rhetoric’ in the Pauline Epistles.”
6 See Drake, In Praise of Constantine.
7 Translation by Richardson, Life of Constantine.
8 For further discussion, see my Greek Rhetoric under Christian Emperors, 194–97.
9 See my Greek Rhetoric under Christian Emperors, 239–40. Basil is the author of a series of sermons and of a treatise, To the Young on How They Should Benefit from Greek Writings; it acknowledges the utility of studying secular literature but advises careful choice and warns against pagan mythology. Text and commentary by Wilson, Saint Basil; translation by Deferrari in the Loeb Classical Library edition of Basil’s letters, vol. 4, 249–348.
10 For further discussion and bibliography, see my Greek Rhetoric under Christian Emperors, 215–39, and Ruether, Gregory of Nazianzus.
11 Translation by McCauley, Funeral Orations, 27–99.
12 For discussion of rhetoric in the councils of Nicea (A.D. 325), Ephesus (431), and Chalcedon (451), see my Greek Rhetoric under Christian Emperors, 200–207 and 258–64.
13 For further discussion and bibliography, see my Greek Rhetoric under Christian Emperors, 208–15.
14 For discussion and bibliography, see my Greek Rhetoric under Christian Emperors, 241–54.
15 On Augustine’s “antirhetoric,” see Boyle, “Augustine in the Garden of Zeus.”
16 Latin text and French translation by Lancel, Conférence de Carthage; discussion by Frend, The Donatist Church.
17 Among valuable contributions are Parsons, “Vocabulary and Rhetoric of the Letters” Bogan, “Vocabulary and Style of the Soliloquies and Dialogues”; Finaert, Saint Augustin rhéteur; Marrou, Saint Augustin; Murphy, Rhetoric in the Middle Ages, 43–64; Brown, Augustine of Hippo and Power and Persuasion; Eden, Poetic and Legal Fiction, 112–41; Cameron, Rhetoric of Empire, esp. 42–47, 66–67, and 157. Additional bibliography in Horner, Historical Rhetoric, and Murphy, Rhetoric in the Middle Ages.
18 The best English translation is by Robertson, On Christian Doctrine; cf. Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric, 153–60.