Dionysius of Halicarnassus was a close reader of Plato and his engagement with the Phaedrus occupies an important position in his rhetorical essays and in his treatment of Lysias and Isocrates in particular. Between Plato and Dionysius, however, were three centuries of thinking and writing about rhetoric, compiling and commenting on the works of Attic orators, speechwriters, philosophers. Hence, before looking at Dionysius of Halicarnassus’ rhetorical essays, a brief overview of the reception of Lysias and Isocrates in the centuries between Plato and Dionysius is in order, so as to gain a good insight into the background for Dionysius’ work and to better assess his contributions to ancient rhetorical theory.Footnote ¹ The following overview will proceed roughly along chronological lines, focusing primarily on more substantial evidence on Lysias and Isocrates that we have from Ps. Demetrius, Philodemus and Cicero.

6.1 Post-Fourth-Century BCE and Hellenistic Receptions of Lysias and Isocrates

Lysias and Isocrates had very different fates in post-fourth-century and Hellenistic rhetorical criticism: on Lysias we know very little and have few papyri from that period, whereas Isocrates seems to loom large in common perception about Hellenistic education, philosophy and rhetoric.Footnote ² Research into Hellenistic oratory and rhetoric is growing, but it is also a complicated field due to lack of evidence on rhetorical activity from that period.Footnote ³ Polybius, of course, is a major source for Hellenistic history and speechwriting, but he by no means aims to record rhetorical theory and does not mention Lysias and Isocrates in his work.Footnote ⁴

6.2 Ps. Demetrius on Lysias and Isocrates

Before we come to the first-century bce criticism, there is one final important source for the reception of Lysias and Isocrates to discuss – Pseudo-Demetrius. The general and growing consensus about Ps. Demetrius’ On Style is that it was written sometime in the second or the first century bce, thus preceding Dionysius of Halicarnassus,Footnote ⁴¹ and that it presents us with a unique resource for post-Aristotelian stylistic criticism and rhetoric. Scholars have already paid attention to the similarities of various linguistic theories in the works of Dionysius and Ps. Demetrius,Footnote ⁴² but there has not been comparable interest in looking at their use of rhetoricians. Both Lysias and Isocrates have a place in this work and in both cases Ps. Demetrius’ discussion sheds valuable light on the critical ideas about these writers that were probably floating around between the fourth and first centuries bce. It is important to bear in mind that when Ps. Demetrius uses ancient authors as examples of certain styles, he does not divide the styles between the writers, as we will see in Dionysius of Halicarnassus, but instead draws examples for one particular style from a variety of different authors. Ancient authors, in Ps. Demetrius’ conception, rarely write in only one style, but often display features of a variety of different modes of writing.

6.3 The Reception of Lysias and Isocrates in Cicero and Philodemus

Philodemus and Cicero were both prolific writers whose works reveal a great deal about their intellectual environment and enable us to access sources not otherwise available to us. They were both active around the same time (from early to mid first century bce) and we know that Cicero was at least familiar with Philodemus’ works as he alludes to him in his In Pisonem (70).Footnote ⁴⁸ Despite Philodemus’ Epicureanism, which Cicero opposes, he receives a more positive treatment from Cicero for his engagement with rhetoric, a topic otherwise spurned by the ‘orthodox’ Epicureans.Footnote ⁴⁹ The following discussion will be focused strictly on the treatment of Lysias and Isocrates in the context of their works. We will be looking mainly at Philodemus’ On Rhetoric and Cicero’s Orator, Brutus and De oratore.Footnote ⁵⁰

7.1 Context and Contemporaries

Dionysius of Halicarnassus says just enough about himself to allow us to date him with confidence to the last part of the first century bce. In the preface to his monumental work on the origins of Rome, the Roman Antiquities (Ῥωμαϊκὴ Ἀρχαιολογία 1.7.2), Dionysius writes that he arrived in Rome after the Battle of Actium either in late 30 or early 29 bce and settled there to learn Latin, to familiarize himself with Roman literary culture, and write the history of Rome.Footnote ¹ What he does not tell us, but what has been assumed from his literary activity, is that in Rome he ‘also practiced as a teacher of rhetoric’, and perhaps even ‘kept an open school’.Footnote ² Hence, next to this magnum opus of Roman history, Dionysius was engaged with rhetoric and literary studies and as evidence for this activity we have his essays on ancient orators and literary criticism.Footnote ³ It is these critical works in particular that will constitute the focus of the following, and in many ways culminating, chapters of this book. Altogether, ten shorter essays and treatises have come to us: five essays on ancient orators (Lysias, Isocrates, Isaeus, Demosthenes, Dinarchus) with a preface to the work On the Ancient Orators,Footnote ⁴ an essay on Thucydides, a treatise on literary composition (De compositione verborum), and finally three letters (two letters to Ammaius and one to Gnaeus Pompeius). The relative chronology of these works, as well as their relation to his Antiquities, is uncertain and scholars have contended over the probable order of his oeuvre.Footnote ⁵ To an extent we can rely here on Dionysius’ own words at the end of the preface to On the Ancient Orators (4.5), where he introduces his project:

As Usher notices, there are plenty of cross-references between these works to confirm that this was the order in which Dionysius wrote at least the first three essays.Footnote ⁶ With other essays we tread a more problematic ground: the longer but incomplete essay Demosthenes has been considered as part of the same project (On the Ancient Orators),Footnote ⁷ but the apparent inconsistencies within the work have brought some scholars to consider it either as an independent and separate work on Demosthenes,Footnote ⁸ or as consisting of two separate treatises, Demosthenes i (1–33) and ii (34–58) respectively.Footnote ⁹ For the present purpose, the question of the relative chronology and relationship between Dionysius’ Demosthenes and CV is relevant in as far as it may shed light on the development of Dionysius’ thought and methodology through his use of critical terminology.Footnote ¹⁰ The general consensus, which will be challenged in this chapter, sees ‘a clear evolution in Dionysius’ critical methods, which become more sophisticated in his later works’.Footnote ¹¹ According to this view, Dionysius’ rhetorical works belong to the last period of his activity and they have been understood as a natural result of Dionysius’ long career and work in Rome, where it is highly likely that his interaction with peers contributed to this intellectual development.Footnote ¹² As will be argued below, Dionysius’ rhetorical treatises offer us instead an insight into a developed understanding of the Attic orators from their first instalment (On Lysias) onwards. Thus, instead of seeing the essays progressing from one orator to another as an advancement of the critical competences of the author, it appears much more appropriate to view the progress from the perspective of a potential student. Dionysius emerges, then, as a writer and a teacher who is much more sensitive to the interests and abilities of his students than perhaps granted thus far.

Many more debates around Dionysius’ critical works concern his intellectual circle, which could tell us something about the nature of his essays as well as their intended audience and circumstance for delivery.Footnote ¹³ Unfortunately, the evidence is very scarce. However, even though most of the personages Dionysius mentions in his work are unknown to us,Footnote ¹⁴ the various names themselves indicate a possibly mixed Greek-Roman audience.Footnote ¹⁵ Within the deeply polarizing debates about the intended readers and audience of Dionysius’ works, a careful assessment of the existing evidence seems to confirm that Dionysius wrote for readers of elite status who had competent Greek, regardless of their ethnic background and citizenship.Footnote ¹⁶ In any case, the fact that Dionysius had Roman students,Footnote ¹⁷ for whom Greek was desirable and within reach, also suggests that he was well informed about the contemporary educational setting in Rome, sensitive to the needs of his students and had a positive reputation, enough to appear attractive to them.

Dionysius’ intellectual network is as fascinating as it is complicated.Footnote ¹⁸ It would be wonderful to know more about other scholars and intellectuals Dionysius met, and read, and exchanged his ideas with. Unfortunately, a lot of that information will have to remain speculative. Yet, from his commitment to history and rhetoric and from what he tells us about his migration to Rome in the beginning of the Antiquities, we can assume that he was well read in Roman history, knew the works of the orators (especially Cicero) and was familiar with the poetic and rhetorical criticism of Roman intellectuals.Footnote ¹⁹ Within this network there is one person in particular that deserves heightened attention in the context of this present discussion – Caecilius of Caleacte.Footnote ²⁰ As far as we can tell, Caecilius was writing both history and literary criticism.Footnote ²¹ He seems to have also made use of the comparative method in literary criticism, synkrisis, which is well on display also in Dionysius’ writings, and which might have been regarded as an innovation over traditional criticism.Footnote ²² Some scholars have argued that Caecilius was the creator of the canon of ten orators,Footnote ²³ though given the very sparse information we have on Caecilius’ work, this argument has not won universal acceptance and at this stage will have to remain a speculation. Finally, in his works on literary criticism Caecilius appears to have been particularly invested in the Atticist-Asianist controversy and the Suda attributes several works to Caecilius that may have treated this subject from different perspectives.Footnote ²⁴ There is one more important aspect to mention here in relation to the relevance of Caecilius’ criticism of Dionysius. Namely, Caecilius was credited by Ps. Longinus with championing Lysias as the supreme Attic stylist. Despite the fact that the Suda does not list a work of Caecilius explicitly focusing on Lysias, Ps. Longinus tells us that Caecilius had written several works on Lysias, and points out that in these (ἐν τοῖς ὑπὲρ Λυσίου συγγράμμασιν) he went as far as to prefer Lysias over Plato.Footnote ²⁵ It is very plausible that Ps. Longinus had misrepresented Caecilius’ critical position on this matter, especially given that it was precisely Caecilius’ treatise (συγγραμμάτιον) on the sublime which prompted Ps. Longinus – or so he claims – to write his work as a response to him (On the Sublime 1.1). In other words, Caecilius’ role in the whole of On the Sublime is one of an intellectual foil against which Ps. Longinus expresses his own views on the topic. That Caecilius might have had a more nuanced position on Lysias is suggested by Photius, who tells us that Caecilius did not approve of Lysias’ arrangement and found it lacking in power.Footnote ²⁶ Innes has argued convincingly that it is highly unlikely that Lysias was considered a model for sublimity in Caecilius’ treatise on the subject, and that it is very probable that he regarded Demosthenes instead as most appropriate for this role.Footnote ²⁷ Be that as it may, Caecilius surely demonstrated high regard for Lysias’ style in his other writings (i.e. ἐν τοῖς ὑπὲρ Λυσίου συγγράμμασιν) and it is likely that his work included in some form a comparison between Lysias and Plato.

All the previous aspects indicate that Dionysius and Caecilius had much in common as regards their intellectual work. Indeed, given that the focus of their literary criticism has many points in common, scholars have long wondered whether they were rivals or friends.Footnote ²⁸ Dionysius refers to Caecilius explicitly in the Letter to Gn. Pompeius and calls him a ‘dear friend’ (τῷ φιλτάτῳ Καικιλίῳ, 3.240.14). Caecilius seems to be brought into the discussion as an authoritative critic whose agreement will further bolster Dionysius’ divisive discussion about the comparison between Herodotus and Thucydides.Footnote ²⁹ This might as well just settle the discussion for now. Taking into consideration their shared views (on Lysias, Plato and Demosthenes) and methods (e.g. synkrisis), it is more likely that Caecilius was a friendly collaborator and an influence rather than a bitter rival.

What emerges from this previous discussion is that Dionysius was part of a busy intellectual network, which included many critics and historians who were invested in thinking about the ancient rhetorical tradition through classical Greek writers, playing them against each other and making them representatives of certain stylistic approaches that always also reflected political ideologies. Lysias’ treatment in these contexts appears to have been particularly controversial and naturally invited critics to go back to that previous moment when Lysias’ style and rhetorical contributions were subjected to intense commentary – Plato’s Phaedrus. Formulating views about Lysias also meant critically engaging with Plato’s Phaedrus. It is therefore not at all surprising that whenever critics of that period form a strong opinion about Lysias, they also ended up having strong views about Plato and Isocrates.Footnote ³⁰ Since Plato had in that dialogue posited the two figures at opposite ends of the rhetorical discourse (as much as they were at the opposite sides of the dialogue: Lysias in the beginning, Isocrates at the end), critics soon found themselves participating in this double axis of literary-critical analysis: Lysias and Isocrates required interpretation as representatives of opposing views of rhetoric, and Plato demanded response as an important predecessor in assessing their success and relevance to the contemporary moment. In the centuries between Plato and Dionysius, we have found sections and snippets from various writers, second-hand accounts and spurious fragments that have all individually supported an interpretation that regards Lysias and Isocrates as important (if not central) figures for the broader conceptualization of the rhetorical tradition. However, it is not until Dionysius of Halicarnassus and his classicizing ambition to rethink the preceding rhetorical tradition and appropriate it to the contemporary Roman context that we see a fully fledged engagement with the triad – Lysias, Isocrates and Plato – emerging.

Curiously, of all Dionysius’ works, his critical essays on ancient orators (with the exception of his preface to On the Ancient Orators) and particularly his essays on Lysias, Isocrates and Isaeus, have received the least scholarly attention.Footnote ³¹ This is surprising, because Dionysius’ programmatic approach to the rhetorical tradition, and his aim to map it out for his contemporaries that is on display from the preface onwards, invite us to follow his discussion from the beginning and not to skip any building block on the way. This chapter goes further than that and will examine the way in which his essays on Lysias and Isocrates function as the foundational base for Dionysius’ creation of the rhetorical tradition.

7.2 Dionysius and Lysias

As Dionysius announces in the preface to On the Ancient Orators, Lysias is the first contribution to this larger project on ancient orators and historians that aims to benefit the general public with a worthy topic that has not been discussed in such a systematic way before (ἐγὼ γοῦν οὐδεμιᾷ τοιαύτῃ περιτυχὼν οἶδα γραφῇ). The essay on Lysias, longest of his three essays on the earlier generation of ancient orators, is roughly divided into two larger sections, the first dedicated to Dionysius’ assessment of Lysias’ speeches by reference to specific characteristics of Lysias’ style, the second part analyzing examples from Lysias’ speeches to sustain claims made in the first part. Additionally, the essay contains a very brief section on Lysias’ biography with a short discussion of his dates. Usher points out that in this biographical section Dionysius is simply reproducing ‘uncritically facts recorded by earlier biographers’.Footnote ³² As we have seen before, however, Lysias was a rather hidden figure (also because of his profession as a speechwriter) already for earlier authors, so that recovering reliable biographical facts about his life was hard and existing accounts were mostly full of controversy.Footnote ³³ Either way, we are given only the very basic information about Lysias’ life before Dionysius proceeds to discuss the orator’s work and the literary qualities of his style.

As a brief side note, it is noteworthy that none of the speeches mentioned and discussed by Dionysius in this essay are those preserved to us by the manuscript tradition. Of the three speeches quoted at length in the second half of the essay, the first three sections of speech 32 (Against Diogeiton) are attested also in Syrianus’ commentary on Hermogenes’ Peri ideon (88.15–89.15), sections of speech 33 (Olympiacus) are preserved in Diodorus Siculus (14.109), Ps. Plutarch’s Lives of Ten Orators (836d) and in Theon’s Progymnasmata (63), and for speech 34 (On Preserving the Ancestral Constitution) Dionysius is our only source. This is perhaps not surprising if we remember that Dionysius had a very wide selection of Lysianic speeches to choose from, so that his choice was understandably different from those who later put together the collection of Lysias’ speeches. And yet it is still somewhat unexpected that the later tradition did not pick up the Lysianic speeches held in such high regard by Dionysius. One more aspect is worth mentioning here: namely, Dionysius’ varying enthusiasm for the speeches he quotes in this essay. He furnishes all three speeches with a brief introduction, but only provides comments on the forensic one. The excerpts from the other two speeches are much shorter and are not accompanied with a single critical comment. This lack of close critical engagement with the speeches has led some scholars to argue that at the time Dionysius wrote Lysias his critical methodology was not yet developed to the heights we see in his later essays. We should also note, however, that Dionysius is consciously and openly prioritizing Lysias’ forensic work over other genres (3.7.), so that the lack of engagement with his other speeches is an expected result of his fashioning of the image of Lysias as a forensic author.

Dionysius portrays an image of Lysias as an active and established writer in a variety of different genres. According to Dionysius, Lysias ‘wrote many well-arranged speeches to the law courts and the council and the assembly, as well as panegyrics, erotic discourses and letters’ (1.5: πλείστους δὲ γράψας λόγους εἰς δικαστήριά τε καὶ βουλὰς καὶ πρὸς ἐκκλησίας εὐθέτους, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις πανηγυρικούς, ἐρωτικούς, ἐπιστολικούς). Dionysius continues: ‘he overshadowed the fame of those orators who came before him and those who blossomed in his own time, leaving not many opportunities to improve for those to come in all these forms of writing, by Zeus not even in the most trivial’ (1.5: τῶν μὲν ἔμπροσθεν γενομένων ῥητόρων ἢ κατὰ τὸν αὐτὸν χρόνον ἀκμασάντων ἠφάνισε τὰς δόξας, τῶν δὲ ἐπιγενομένων οὐ πολλοῖς τισι κατέλιπεν ὑπερβολὴν οὔτ᾽ ἐν ἁπάσαις ταῖς ἰδέαις τῶν λόγων καὶ μὰ Δία οὔτε γ’ ἐν ταῖς φαυλοτάταις). Lysias was, then, a well-rounded writer, accomplished in all genres, and yet Dionysius consistently emphasizes Lysias’ excellence in court speeches and the most trivial matters (ἐν … ταῖς φαυλοτάταις). Indeed, for the rest of the essay Dionysius leaves to one side, without further comment, ‘his letters, his amatory discourses’ and ‘the other works which he wrote for amusement (3.7: μετὰ παιδιᾶς ἔγραψεν)’, and focuses only on ‘the serious speeches which he wrote for the law courts and for the assembly (3.7: οἱ σπουδῇ γραφόμενοι δικανικοὶ λόγοι καὶ συμβουλευτικοί)’.

With regard to Dionysius’ critical method, as far as we can tell from this essay, he seems to have been an eclectic, drawing from a variety of different critical approaches and not subscribing to any literary or philosophical school in particular. Indeed, not only does Dionysius follow the (Peripatetic) theory of virtues of style (more below), but throughout this essay he appears to make use of many different rhetorical theories and systems: he makes productive use of Theophrastus (6.1, 14.1), of Isocrates or, perhaps more appropriately, the followers of Isocrates (16.5), and of older rhetorical handbooks (24.1–4). In doing so, Dionysius does not seem particularly concerned to stick to one specific system of virtues and to describe Lysias according to the terminology of a particular school. Instead, as he tells us at 10.3, he could name many more virtues of style, leaving it essentially open from where he is drawing his terminology and system. Or, when analyzing the introduction to Lysias’ forensic speech (24.5–7), Dionysius’ comments on its success are drawn from older rhetorical handbooks and he is not at all disturbed by the level of specificity and particularity that these handbooks seem to employ,Footnote ³⁴ even though their approach seems very different from the more abstract terminology that Dionysius uses to discuss Lysias’ style in this essay.

Bonner, whose seminal work on Dionysius’ critical essays examines the development of his critical method, has argued that Dionysius’ early essays, of which Lysias is an example, display a less developed and sophisticated methodology and critical discussion than what we see in his later treatises.Footnote ³⁵ Focusing strictly on the Peripatetic theory of the virtues of style, Bonner claims that Dionysius is simply reproducing in this essay the system of virtues that he had inherited from the previous tradition. He thus connects Lysias with the mechanical use of this system in the first books of On imitation, where Dionysius, as appears from the epitome of that work that has been preserved in Dionysius’ letter to Gnaeus Pompeius, had made extensive use of the theory of the virtues of style.Footnote ³⁶ While it is undoubtedly true that Dionysius’ critical discussion in the Lysias appears more simplistic compared to his examination of the following authors, this may also reflect the special position of Lysias in Dionysius’ critical thought. Lysias becomes a point of reference and comparison for Dionysius in his examination of all subsequent orators. In that role, it is almost inevitable that Lysias himself is far less compared to others in that first essay with the consequence that Dionysius’ essay Lysias contains the fewest comparative references. It will be argued below, however, that instead of merely reflecting an initial stage of Dionysius’ critical thought, this essay seems to have been used by the author to establish a point of reference for, and a connection to, all his following essays. Thus, while in Bonner’s reading Dionysius’ critical thought only begins to emerge in the essay, from another perspective Dionysius’ Lysias could be read as laying the groundwork for his intellectual project, a foundational work which provides the background for all his subsequent examinations of ancient orators.

The theory of virtues (ἀρεταί) of style goes back to Aristotle’s identification of one single virtue of style, clarity (σαφήνεια).Footnote ³⁷ In the ensuing engagement with the question of style, Theophrastus had apparently broken down this virtue into four different virtues – purity of language (ἑλληνισμός), lucidity (σαφήνεια), appropriateness (τὸ πρέπον), ornament (κατασκευή) – which in turn were open to further manipulation by different theorists, who added and/or omitted certain elements for their own particular purposes. That Dionysius is making use of a version of this system is clear from the lists of virtues that he provides in the essay on Lysias and, as Bonner points out, in his analysis of Herodotus and Thucydides in the epitome of On Imitation (3). Dionysius mentions this system explicitly in his later essay Thucydides (22.2–3), where he writes:

In the letter to Gn. Pompeius, which Bonner posits in close proximity with Dionysius’ Demosthenes and Thucydides, and which contains remnants of his (arguably) very early work On Imitation, Dionysius mentions this distinction between two different kinds of virtues again (3.16–21). He lists purity of language (καθαρὰ διάλεκτος), [vocabulary (?)],Footnote ³⁸ conciseness (συντομία) and brevity (τὸ βραχύ) among the essential virtues, and vividness (ἐνάργεια), imitation of character and emotions (μίμησις τῶν ἠθῶν τε καὶ παθῶν), virtues of grand and awe-inspiring ornamentation (αἱ τὸ μέγα καὶ θαυμαστὸν ἐκφαίνουσαι τῆς κατασκευῆς ἀρεταί), virtues of powerful and intense expression (αἱ τὴν ἰσχὺν καὶ τὸν τόνον καὶ τὰς ὁμοιοτρόπους δυνάμεις τῆς φράσεως ἀρεταὶ περιέχουσαι), virtues of pleasure and persuasion (ἡδονὴ δὲ καὶ πειθὼ καὶ τέρψις καὶ αἱ ὁμοιογενεῖς ἀρεταί) as ancillary virtues. Propriety is mentioned as altogether the most important literary quality (πασῶν ἐν λόγοις ἀρετῶν ἡ κυριωτάτη τὸ πρέπον), so it probably belongs among the essential virtues. The main difference between these different virtues is that the ‘essential’ virtues have to be present in every speech, ‘to make clear and manifest what one wishes to say, but they do nothing more’; the ancillary virtues have more influence and ‘they show the δύναμις [power] of the orator and they lend him his glory and fame’.Footnote ³⁹ Overall, however, this list gives the impression of being composed rather arbitrarily and depending heavily on specific authors, which probably results in the growing obscurity of the explanations of various ‘virtues’. At any rate, there appears to be a pronounced difference in Dionysius’ expression between the ‘essential’ and ‘ancillary’ virtues: the ‘essential’ elements are expressed in concise language, often as abstract concepts (σαφήνεια [clarity], ἐνάργεια [vividness], and so on) that we see used in similar way in both works (Thucydides and On Imitation), whereas the ‘ancillary’ virtues show more fluctuation depending on the specific author under discussion and the description of these virtues seems at times rather diffuse (e.g. αἱ τὸ μέγα καὶ θαυμαστὸν ἐκφαίνουσαι τῆς κατασκευῆς ἀρεταί). This sense of arbitrariness surrounding the ‘ancillary’ virtues is underscored by Dionysius’ own comment at the end of the paragraph that he could provide many more examples and elements to distinguish the style of the historians, but he will save that for another opportune moment.Footnote ⁴⁰

Even though Dionysius does not mention the twofold division of the virtues of style into essential and ancillary explicitly in his Lysias, the proximity of the language and critical tools that Dionysius employs strongly suggests that the list he produces in this essay is indebted to that theory and connected to previously quoted passages from Dionysius’ other works.Footnote ⁴¹ The one significant difference between the virtues of style in Lysias and his Letter to Gn. Pompeius is that, compared to the latter, the former essay displays an almost definition-like distinction and treatment of the virtues: every virtue is mentioned in lucid and clear terminology, and the terms are often followed by brief explanations. The first part of the essay is largely structured around Dionysius’ discussion of the following virtues of style: purity (καθαρός), ordinary expression (κύρια καὶ κοινὰ ὀνόματα), lucidity (σαφήνεια), brevity (βραχύτης), compactness (στρογγυλότης), vividness (ἐνάργεια), characterization (ἠθοποιία), propriety (τὸ πρέπον), persuasive (πιθανή) / convincing (πειστική) / natural (πολὺ τὸ φυσικόν) style, and charm (χάρις). Dionysius claims that he could mention many more relevant virtues of style, but that he will confine himself here to those mentioned. As this list clearly demonstrates, Dionysius uses, in contrast to many of the elements described in his Letter to Gn. Pompeius, a far clearer terminology which renders the discussion more structured. It should be remembered, of course, that Dionysius is here concerned with emphasizing stylistic characteristics of one author, Lysias, and that he is not engaged in comparative criticism as we see in his discussion of Herodotus and Thucydides. Whether or not this can be used to infer anything about the development of Dionysius’ critical method, Dionysius’ efforts to create a clear-cut critical vocabulary and method to analyze Lysias (and, by extension, all subsequent orators) have had a profound impact on later rhetorical criticism. And despite the fact that Dionysius does not mention explicitly the distinction between essential and ancillary virtues, the breakdown of the individual elements in this list seems to reveal that he is indeed following this principle.

Of all Lysianic virtues Dionysius mentions purity, Lysias’ pure Attic language, first (Lysias 2.1: καθαρός ἐστι τὴν ἑρμηνείαν πάνυ). In the context of the Atticist-Asianist controversy, putting this quality in such a prominent position, and ahead of the Peripatetic/Aristotelian ‘lucidity’ (σαφήνεια), is certainly a significant move, indicating Dionysius’ adherence to the classicizing attitude towards the past.Footnote ⁴² Dionysius explicitly says that purity is ‘the first and most important element in speeches’ (πρῶτόν τε καὶ κυριώτατον ἐν λόγοις), and of all other writers the one closest to Lysias in this stylistic virtue was Isocrates. In other words, neither Plato nor Thucydides, and not even Demosthenes, is to be taken as a model for pure Attic prose. A similar Atticist-classicist background seems to lurk behind his second virtue, simplicity. In fact, Dionysius seems particularly concerned to spell out what this virtue really entails: Lysianic simplicity is deceptive, and the common words and language that he uses conceal a highly artistic prose. It is not simply everyday speech that Lysias reproduced in his speeches,Footnote ⁴³ but a highly sophisticated art of simplicity. In fact, proof of the artistic labor behind the effect of a simple and common expression is that of all the followers of Lysias it was Isocrates, this time the young Isocrates, famous for his elaborate style, who came closest to imitating Lysias’ artistic and deceptive simplicity (3: ἔγγιστα δὲ αὐτῆς μετὰ Λυσίαν ἥψατο τῶν πρεσβυτέρων νέος ἐπακμάσας Ἰσοκράτης).

Lucidity and brevity seem to conclude the list of essential virtues, for the next virtue – compactness – is already introduced in a slightly different manner. Instead of simply continuing to list further virtues, Dionysius stresses the distinctness of the next virtue, compactness, by saying ‘after these (μετὰ ταύτας) a virtue I find in Lysias […]’ (6.1), thus suggestively grouping together the previous four qualities and marking a new set of virtues. This virtue of style does not lend itself easily to a one-word summary: ‘It is a manner of expression in which ideas are reduced to their essentials and expressed tersely’ (ἡ συστρέφουσα τὰ νοήματα καὶ στρογγύλως ἐκφέρουσα λέξις). Interestingly, lucidity and compactness (well-roundedness) are two elements that are also used to describe Lysias’ style by Socrates in Plato’s Phaedrus, where Socrates suggests that the only reason to admire the Lysianic speech is because ‘all the expressions are clear and well rounded and finely tuned’ (234e5–6: σαφῆ καὶ στρογγύλα, καὶ ἀκριβῶς ἕκαστα τῶν ὀνομάτων ἀποτετόρνευται).Footnote ⁴⁴ Given the influence of the Phaedrus on the reception of Lysias from the fourth century onwards, it is surely no coincidence that these two elements have found such a strong presence in Dionysius’ description of Lysias’ virtues of style. As noted before, Dionysius is reading Plato’s Phaedrus very closely and we witness here an implicit reference to the underlying importance of this dialogue for Dionysius’ project. Indeed, he appears to be picking up the terminology of praise intended for Lysias (regardless of whether it was intended as such in the dialogue) and incorporates it to his own detailed analysis of Lysias’ style. Making use of these two stylistic categories enables Dionysius to show himself as well informed of Lysianic criticism while at the same time demonstrating, by setting his own stylistic categories above those of Plato, the importance of his own interpretation of Lysias over previous critics, and in particular over that of Plato.

The ancillary virtues in the list are selected to highlight Lysias’ superiority in these elements over all other orators. In other words, for Dionysius’ discussion these are specifically the Lysianic elements of style. Dionysius concludes the section on vividness (ἐνάργεια) by the following assessment of Lysias: ‘He was the best of all the orators at observing human nature and ascribing to each type of person the appropriate emotions, moral qualities and actions’ (7.3: κράτιστος γὰρ δὴ πάντων ἐγένετο ῥητόρων φύσιν ἀνθρώπων κατοπτεῦσαι καὶ τὰ προσήκοντα ἑκάστοις ἀποδοῦναι πάθη τε καὶ ἤθη καὶ ἔργα). This quality seems to be particularly fixed in the Peripatetic theory on virtues of style: it is alluded to in Aristotle’s Rhetoric (iii.11.1–4 1411b24–12a9) and is defined in almost identical terms in Ps. Demetrius (209–10).Footnote ⁴⁵

Lysias’ skill at characterization, ἠθοποιία,Footnote ⁴⁶ was such that ‘anybody pursuing truthfulness (ἀλήθεια) and wishing to become an imitator of nature (φύσεως μιμητής) would not go wrong in using Lysias’ composition, for he will find nothing more truthful (ἀληθεστέρα) than this’ (8.7). Characterization is a particularly dense paragraph and it has also caused some scholarly debate: Dionysius’ description has been read to suggest that Lysias’ characters were created as general ‘literary types’,Footnote ⁴⁷ and this judgement has been contested as one-sided by those who see Lysias’ speeches as displaying individual characterization. It is useful to remember that Dionysius is interested in identifying general features that his students can usefully imitate, which may explain his lack of engagement with what Usher labels Lysias’ ‘individual characterization’. In other words, the characteristics of specific historical individuals that may or may not be entirely unique to them are not really relevant for Dionysius’ rhetorical interests. This section thus describes Lysias’ achievement in characterization from the point of view of the general moral effect on the audience.Footnote ⁴⁸

In order to emphasize Lysias’ character appropriations, Dionysius links Lysias’ skill at characterization with the virtue of a simple and common style. That Dionysius aims to establish a link between the two virtues becomes clear when he writes that ‘the impression (χαρακτήρ) of this harmonious [composition] seems to be somehow un-labored (ἀποίητος) and inartificial (ἀτεχνίτευτος)’ (8.5), concluding, however, that ‘it is more carefully composed than any work of art’ (8.6: ἔστι δὲ παντὸς μᾶλλον ἔργου τεχνικοῦ κατεσκευασμένος), that ‘this artlessness is itself the product of art’ (πεποίηται γὰρ αὐτῷ τοῦτο τὸ ἀποίητον) and that ‘it is in the very appearance of not having been composed with masterly skill that the cleverness lies’ (καὶ ἐν αὐτῷ τῷ μὴ δοκεῖν δεινῶς κατεσκευάσθαι τὸ δεινὸν ἔχει). This compares well with what he claimed a few passages before under the topic of ‘common language/simplicity’, namely that despite the apparent simplicity, Lysias ‘is the most accomplished literary artist’ (3.8: ἔστι ποιητὴς κράτιστος λόγων). Dionysius’ emphasis on this deceptive quality of Lysias’ style, his cleverness, strongly resembles Phaedrus’ judgement of Lysias in Plato’s Phaedrus. When summarizing Lysias’ approach to the topic of love in the speech, Phaedrus says: ‘For Lysias has written on one of the beauties being tempted, though not by a lover, but this is just the clever thing about it: for he says that favors should be granted rather to the one who is not in love than to the lover’ (227c5: γέγραφε γὰρ δὴ ὁ Λυσίας πειρώμενόν τινα τῶν καλῶν, οὐχ ὑπ᾽ ἐραστοῦ δέ, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτὸ δὴ τοῦτο καὶ κεκόμψευται: λέγει γὰρ ὡς χαριστέον μὴ ἐρῶντι μᾶλλον ἢ ἐρῶντι). There is a kind of cleverness in Lysias’ writing, a simple twist to a commonplace topic, or here a commonplace construction of participating characters, that makes him stand out. Shortly afterwards Phaedrus explicitly claims that Lysias is δεινότατος ὢν τῶν νῦν γράφειν (228a2),Footnote ⁴⁹ thus stressing a crucial characteristic to Lysias’ success and appeal – his ‘being δεινός’.Footnote ⁵⁰ It is probably no coincidence that Dionysius’ Lysias, too, is δεινός (clever) and it is very likely indeed that this concept of Lysias’ cleverness has crept into Dionysius’ discussion of Lysias’ stylistic features through the Phaedrus. While Phaedrus’ praise of Lysias is honest, there is no doubt that the dialogue as a whole aims to challenge the view of Lysias as an accomplished writer. As we noticed before, however, Dionysius does not raise the possibility of ironical reading and thus seems to take all praise of Lysias expressed in the dialogue matter-of-factly. Given his criticism of Plato’s own style elsewhere,Footnote ⁵¹ however, it is also conceivable that by taking Phaedrus’ praise of Lysias seriously Dionysius is implicitly undermining Plato’s authority when it comes to stylistic recommendations, and is eager to show to his contemporaries and students his supremacy over the philosopher.

In any case, given what we know about the reception of Lysias and the continuous association of his speeches with successful character portraits, it is worth noting that of all the ‘ancillary’ virtues of Lysias, characterization and charm are the ones that receive fullest treatment and attention by Dionysius. Therefore, it must have been felt by Dionysius that these two features characterize Lysias’ style particularly aptly and thus require a more elaborated discussion in the treatise.

Lysias’ style has propriety, a virtue that Dionysius considers the most excellent (κρατίστη) and accomplished (τελειοτάτη) of all virtues of style (9.1), but it is also one of the most general virtues mentioned in the list and one which does not emphasize Lysias’ idiosyncrasy in any more detailed way. Given the emphasized importance of τὸ πρέπον in the theory of virtues of style (cf. Thucydides 22), this is a virtue that Dionysius was probably compelled to mention in this context, even though there does not seem to be anything particularly Lysianic about it. This might explain Dionysius’ choice of language and relative lack of praise of Lysias in this section. Paying mere lip service to Lysias’ skill at persuasiveness and naturalness (which is apparently already common knowledge, 10.2),Footnote ⁵² Dionysius rushes forward to one of the most enigmatic of Lysias’ virtues – his charm (χάρις). To conclude his otherwise rather uniform list of virtues with a long digression on Lysianic charm is perhaps the most striking aspect of the essay,Footnote ⁵³ especially as Dionysius seems to use this notion as a way to explore the limits of criticism and artistic creation.

7.3 Dionysius and Lysias’ CharmFootnote ⁵⁴

The description of charm (χάρις) in Dionysius’ essay On Lysias extends over several chapters of the work and is the longest section dedicated to a single virtue of style.Footnote ⁵⁵ He explains Lysias’ charm in the following way: ‘I will demonstrate one more virtue of this orator, which I consider to be his finest and most important quality, and the one above all which enables us to establish Lysias’ peculiar character’ (10.3: μίαν δὲ ἀρετὴν ἔτι τοῦ ῥήτορος ἀποδείξομαι, κρίνας καλλίστην τε καὶ κυριωτάτην καὶ μόνην ἢ μάλιστα τῶν ἄλλων τὸν Λυσίου χαρακτῆρα δυναμένην βεβαιῶσαι). Even though nobody else excelled him in χάρις, those who imitated it appeared superior to others because of this quality alone (10.4). It is ‘some sort of charm that blossoms forth in all his words’ (10.5: ἡ [τις] πᾶσιν ἐπανθοῦσα τοῖς ὀνόμασι <χάρις>) and it is ‘something bigger than all words and more wonderful’ (10.5: πρᾶγμα παντὸς κρεῖττον λόγου καὶ θαυμασιώτερον). Yet, it is also a challenging term, as Dionysius concedes when he says that it ‘is very easy to see and it is to everyone, layman and expert alike, manifest, but it is most difficult to express in words, and not simple even for those with exceptional descriptive powers’ (10.6: ῥᾷστον μὲν γάρ ἐστιν ὀφθῆναι καὶ παντὶ ὁμοίως ἰδιώτῃ τε καὶ τεχνίτῃ φανερόν, χαλεπώτατον δὲ λόγῳ δηλωθῆναι καὶ οὐδὲ τοῖς κράτιστα εἰπεῖν δυναμένοις εὔπορον). Dionysius connects χάρις and the impossibility of determining in exact terms what it is with other difficult, but most productive, literary-critical terms, such as ‘timeliness’ (11.2: τίς ὁ λεγόμενος καιρός) and ‘the mean’ (ποῦ τὸ μέτριον). In all these cases, ‘it is with senses and not with reason that we comprehend’ (11.3: αἰσθήσει γὰρ τούτων ἕκαστον καταλαμβάνεται καὶ οὐ λόγῳ).

As attested in Philodemus, the term χάρις had been used before by the so-called kritikoi in ways overlapping somewhat with Dionysius. Pausimachus (and by extension the whole group of the kritikoi) had argued that χάρις appeals to the irrational in us and constitutes the core of any poetic aspiration.Footnote ⁵⁶ Dionysius also claims that χάρις is an irrational sensation and one that proves for him the most essential quality of Lysias. Beyond the obvious similarities, there are also substantial differences between the kritikoi and Dionysius on this matter. Firstly, Dionysius makes no attempt to actually understand χάρις as comprising sounds and, if anything, he is clearly struggling to provide his readers with a clear definition of the concept. To be sure, Dionysius is emphasizing the centrality of sense perception, but he is not clear which senses he has in mind (his examples range overall from aural sensations (music) to visual stimulations (painting and sculpture), or how the experience of this phenomenon could be broken down to smaller pieces (in a way similar to the kritikoi). Hence, Dionysius is reluctant to participate in the debate of whether it is sound or sense that should have primacy in oratorical compositions. Secondly, instead of focusing on one particular constituent of χάρις (as the kritikoi do in prioritizing the aural perception of sounds), Dionysius concentrates almost exclusively on a specific author whom he considers to be the best learning-source for χάρις – Lysias.

Throughout the section we witness Dionysius working out his way closer towards an explanation of χάρις. Since definitions and words are not much help, Dionysius turns to another art where senses are heavily involved – music. Borrowing from music teachers, who advise their pupils simply to cultivate their ear, which is the most accurate criterion (ἀκριβέστερον κριτήριον) of music (11.3), Dionysius recommends his students who wish to learn the nature of Lysias’ χάρις ‘to train the instinctive feeling over a long time with consistent study and instinctive experience’ (11.4: χρόνῳ πολλῷ καὶ μακρᾷ τριβῇ καὶ ἀλόγῳ πάθει τὴν ἄλογον συνασκεῖν αἴσθησιν). In other words, the first step towards a full appreciation of Lysias’ mastery is to simply listen to and read numerous speeches by Lysias without making any attempt to critically discuss or otherwise engage with the work. This constant exposure to Lysianic style will form one’s senses in such a way that will eventually lead to a uniform understanding of his particular style and make sure that any non-Lysianic feature will immediately stand out.Footnote ⁵⁷ How exactly this ‘instinctive feeling’ (ἄλογος αἴσθησις) is related to Lysianic χάρις, however, is not entirely clear.Footnote ⁵⁸ What emerges, however, is that this method, if that is the right way to call it, is associated with the universal impression of an author and his works, so that Dionysius associates Lysias’ χάρις not so much with a particular virtue of style, but rather with the overall effect of his work.Footnote ⁵⁹

Looking for Dionysius’ use of χάρις elsewhere, particularly in the comparisons between different orators, is helpful. It emerges, for example, that Lysias’ speeches are compared to those of Isocrates explicitly as having ‘lightness’ and ‘charm’ (Isocrates 3.6). Juxtaposed to Isaeus, Lysias, by his simplicity and charm (κατὰ τὴν ἁπλότητα καὶ τὴν χάριν), resembles ‘older paintings which are worked in simple colors without any subtle blending of tints but clear in their outline, and thereby possessing great charm (πολὺ τὸ χαρίεν ἐν ταύταις ἔχουσαι)’ (Isaeus 4.1). From a passage in his Demosthenes (54.8), Dionysius seems to connect χάρις with wit, just like Ps. Demetrius had done:

Dionysius introduces here χάρις as a synonym for εὐτραπελία and refers to the authority of ‘the many’ who have previously made this association. It is very unfortunate that the passage seems corrupt and breaks off at the end. I have adopted, with many hesitations, Aujac’s interpretation over that of Usher and included <οὐ> in the text to indicate that Demosthenes did not lack χάρις. It is, however, also possible that Dionysius concluded his discussion of Demosthenes with a brief reference to χάρις and that in this context he would have ended the passage with a reference to Lysias, who has ‘the largest chunk of this quality’. Seeing that Dionysius seems to reserve this quality primarily for Lysias, it would not be surprising if also in his discussion of Demosthenes’ virtues and of his charm, Lysias would be used as a comparative force.Footnote ⁶¹

Throughout Dionysius’ critical essays, we are never offered a clear definition of χάρις, a quality in which Lysias apparently overpowers everyone else and that seems to best stand for a summary term of Lysias’ writing. Dionysius justifies his inability to define and better explain this concept by connecting it to the ‘instinctive feeling’ and associating it with other supremely important, but extremely difficult concepts of literary criticism. What emerges from this discussion is that for Dionysius χάρις is somehow associated with the small, the commonplace and the witty. How exactly these associations work and how students could fruitfully imitate them, all that remains rather unclear. Yet, perhaps the difficulty in defining χάρις served a purpose for Dionysius. In its social and educational context, it might have helped Dionysius to reassert the authority of rhetorical teaching and teachers, who will have sat down with their texts and trained their senses to recognize different stylistic features characteristic of different authors. As a reflection of Dionysius’ intellectual interests in criticism, Lysias’ χάρις might underscore his fascination with these subtle means of persuasion and deception that manage to ‘smuggle conviction unnoticed past the listener’s senses’ (Lysias 18.3: τὴν πίστιν ἅμα λεληθότως συνεπιφέρουσιν).Footnote ⁶² In Lysias, χάρις is on several occasions mentioned in the company of or as a substitute for πειθώ, ἡδονή and a cluster of terms related to Aphrodite. When Dionysius points to the shortcomings of Lysias’ style, for example, he writes that it does not have the capacity to ‘force and compel his audience in the same way it is able to delight, persuade and charm’ (13.4: οὐδ᾽ ὡς ἡδῦναι καὶ πεῖσαι καὶ χαριεντίσασθαι δύναται, οὕτω βιάσασθαί τε καὶ προσαναγκάσαι). Thus, Lysias’ charm or χάρις opens up for Dionysius and his students a way to see rhetoric as an amusing and delightful activity that is playfully exploring the murky waters of πειθώ (persuasion) and deception.

7.4 Lysias – a Greek Writer for Rome

The sections that follow Dionysius’ discussion of Lysias’ charm (χάρις) are perhaps best summarized as ‘Lysias the clever one [δεινός]’.Footnote ⁶³ The speechwriter is portrayed as ‘inventive (εὑρετικός) at discovering the arguments inherent in a situation, not only those which any of us could discover, but also those which nobody else could (οὐ μόνον ὧν ἅπαντες ἂν εὕροιμεν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὧν μηθείς)’ (15.1). He omits nothing that could constitute an argument, ‘up to the last detail’ (15.2: ἄχρι τῆς εἰς ἐλάχιστον τομῆς). Moreover, the ‘cleverness (δεινότης) of his invention is best exemplified in those speeches in which there is no direct evidence (ἀμάρτυροι τῶν λόγων) and those composed upon extraordinary themes (περὶ τὰς παραδόξους συνταχθέντες ὑποθέσεις)’ (15.3). Dionysius explains that ‘in these he furnishes a great many excellent arguments and makes cases regarded by everyone else as hopeless and impossible seem easy and practicable’ (15.3). This cleverness finds its clearest expression on the forensic stage and Dionysius argues that ‘in this type of oratory, he is more capable of speaking well on small, unexpected or difficult matters (τὰ μικρὰ καὶ παράδοξα καὶ ἄπορα) than of speaking forcefully on weighty, important or straightforward subjects’ (16.3). The fact that Dionysius fails to give any comments or analysis for the examples he cites from Lysias’ ceremonial and deliberative speeches shows clearly that Dionysius’ interests in Lysias’ style are restricted to his forensic work. It might also be, even though Dionysius does not dwell much on this possibility,Footnote ⁶⁴ that Lysias’ forensic speeches are most securely attributed to him in the tradition, whereas speeches from other genres had aroused questions about delivery and authorship. Be that as it may, Dionysius’ Lysias is attractive for his ability to invent and twist arguments beyond one’s imagination, for bringing unexpected and surprising solutions to complicated and impossible cases, and for talking about small everyday matters with a wide lay audience. These could have been characteristics that many young Romans and Dionysius’ potential students might have found very attractive: here was an entertaining Greek author who would not put off students (and Romans?) with his philosophical gravity,Footnote ⁶⁵ and who at the same time has much to teach about ‘playful intellectualism’.

That Dionysius was generally alert to the topic of appropriate audience and styles is clear from his essay Thucydides, where Dionysius comments on the complex style of Thucydides. In response to those who suggest that Thucydides ‘can be read with understanding only by the well-educated’ (51.1), Dionysius claims that ‘in confining it to an extremely small minority of readers, they are removing from ordinary men’s lives a necessary and universally useful subject of study’ (51.1: τὸ τοῦ πράγματος ἀναγκαῖόν τε καὶ χρήσιμον ἅπασιν […] ἀναιροῦσιν ἐκ τοῦ κοινοῦ βίου, ὀλίγων παντάπασιν ἀνθρώπων οὕτω ποιοῦντες). Dionysius’ concern for the ‘uneducated’ reader is also strongly present in his discussions of ἄλογος αἴσθησις and the ‘instinctive feeling’ that affects the critic and the non-critic alike. It seems fair to say, then, that Dionysius is in favor of clear and simple Attic prose; his criticisms of Thucydides and Isocrates, for example, point to their obscurity (Thucydides) or overly ornate style (Isocrates). It might not be too far-fetched to suggest, then, that this preference of simplicity and clarity also reflects Roman literary tastes and rhetorical education,Footnote ⁶⁶ and – if true – could be interpreted as a confirmation of the above sentiment about the potential attractiveness of an author like Lysias for the Roman audience.

However, this conclusion might appear problematic when we look at what Dionysius explicitly tells us about his intellectual environment and his potential readership. In his On the Ancient Orators, which served as a broad (ideological) introduction to the critical essays on selected ancient orators, Dionysius claims that the changed appreciation of rhetoric is indebted to ‘the fact that Rome was ruling the world’ (3.1: αἰτία δ᾽ οἶμαι καὶ ἀρχὴ τῆς τοσαύτης μεταβολῆς ἐγένετο ἡ πάντων κρατοῦσα Ῥώμη), and he continues by arguing that ‘her leaders are chosen on merit, and administer the state according to the highest principles. They are thoroughly educated (εὐπαίδευτοι πάνυ) and in the highest degree discerning, so that under their ordering influence the sensible section of the population (τὸ φρόνιμον τῆς πόλεως μέρος) has increased its power and the foolish have been compelled to behave rationally’ (3.1). In other words, Dionysius claims that the level of education among the populace has risen in Rome and we can expect this to have a direct effect on Dionysius’ evaluation of his students and readers. And indeed, Dionysius makes several gestures towards his imagined readership that support his high regard for their cultural education. In his essay Lysias, for example, he characterizes his audience as ‘those knowing’ or ‘connoisseurs’ (10.1: εἰδότες) and later on as ‘well-educated and moderate minds’ (20.2: ψυχαὶ εὐπαίδευτοι καὶ μέτριαι), thus suggesting that he has high expectations for the intellectual capacity of his imagined readership.Footnote ⁶⁷ Yet perhaps these apparently conflicting views of Dionysius’ intended audience are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Rome has already demonstrated her dislike for the ornate and excessive Greek style (On the Ancient orators 3), emphasizing τὸ ὄφελος and τὸ φρόνιμον both in rhetoric and in style. Dionysius, building on this intellectual climate that prefers the simple over the complex, and the useful over the pleasurable, will thus find a favorable audience when commencing his critical essays with the Greek orator that most fulfils these conditions – Lysias. By proposing Lysias as the first role model for style, Dionysius is at the same time fashioning his audience as ‘learned’ men who already know that it is simplicity and effectiveness, the very virtues Dionysius ascribes to Lysias, that are to be valued highly in oratorical performance. In other words, Dionysius attracts the Roman elite reader to the Greek models by appealing to the virtues to which Romans are already committed and flattering them for having duly recognized these virtues thanks to their wide learning. Furthermore, if it is indeed true that Rome was suspicious of Greek intellectuals and philosophers and did not have high regard for their abstract argumentation and emphasis on theory,Footnote ⁶⁸ this might also show Dionysius’ discussion of ‘un-rational perception’ (ἄλογος αἴσθησις) in a new light: when Dionysius argues that the most important quality of Lysias’ style is his charm (χάρις), which according to him depends on this kind of ‘un-rational perception’ (ἄλογος αἴσθησις) and cannot be understood through logical/abstract reasoning, Dionysius might in fact have put his finger on the Roman virtue of style par excellence. Even more than the emotion and power of a Demosthenes, this experience-based and sense-dependent charm that does not render itself amenable to theoretical discussion is what might have spoken most closely to the Roman oratorical practice.Footnote ⁶⁹ Hence, with his notion of ‘charm’ Dionysius appears to have given the Romans a useful critical tool with which to justify their high regard for Lysias and the kind of rhetoric that is associated with it.Footnote ⁷⁰

It has been briefly suggested by scholars before,Footnote ⁷¹ but has not been followed up by any further examination, that Dionysius’ essay on Lysias has a foundational role for Dionysius’ criticism of the orators. This is particularly apparent in the first three essays of the project On the Ancient Orators, where essays on Isocrates and Isaeus are clearly written against the backdrop of Dionysius’ work on Lysias, and the prominent presence of Lysias in Dionysius’ critical work seems to be a strong indication that Lysias is used as a point of reference by Dionysius to develop and clarify his views on other orators.

Indeed, in Dionysius’ essays on Isocrates and Isaeus, Lysias is clearly the central figure with whom both Isocrates and Isaeus are compared. In fact, both essays seem to reveal characteristics of Lysias as much as they tell us about the style of Isocrates and Isaeus. In the essay on Isocrates, for example, Dionysius runs quickly through the list of terms that he had used to describe Lysias’ style in the first essay (2.1–7: καθαρός, ἀκριβὴς διάλεκτος, τὸ σαφές, τὸ ἐναργές, ἠθικὴ καὶ πιθανὴ λέξις), employs the same structure for discussion, and expands the list where Isocrates differs from Lysias (e.g. 2.4). Despite his appreciation of Isocrates’ writings, Dionysius keeps coming back to Lysias as the point of departure for his discussion of style, and especially forensic style, throughout the essay.Footnote ⁷² The same observations apply to Dionysius’ essay on Isaeus. While Isaeus is positioned between and compared with both Lysias and Demosthenes, Dionysius’ underlying comparative method follows the terminology that he had introduced in the first essay on Lysias: Isaeus’ language is ‘pure, precise, clear, standard, vivid and concise, and also persuasive, appropriate to the subject and suitable for law courts not less than that of Lysias’ (3.1: καθαρὰ μὲν καὶ ἀκριβὴς καὶ σαφὴς κυρία τε καὶ ἐναργὴς καὶ σύντομος, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις πιθανή τε καὶ πρέπουσα τοῖς ὑποκειμένοις στρογγύλη τε καὶ δικανικὴ οὐχ ἧττόν ἐστιν ἡ Ἰσαίου λέξις τῆς Λυσίου). In his summary of the two orators Dionysius concludes, for example, that Isaeus aims more at artistic effect and forcefulness, while Lysias is more natural and charming (18.1: Λυσίας μὲν τὴν ἀλήθειαν διώκειν μᾶλλον, Ἰσαῖος δὲ τὴν τέχνην, καὶ ὃ μὲν στοχάζεσθαι τοῦ χαριέντως, ὃ δὲ τοῦ δεινῶς), referring back to the characteristics introduced in his essay. These examples clearly show that the terminology and language of comparison in these two essays require a close familiarity with Dionysius’ essay on Lysias, where these features of style were first introduced and explained in more detail. His first essay, then, instead of showing undeveloped and uninteresting rhetorical criticism, might be better understood as a way for Dionysius to set the stage for the following critical discussions and to use the figure of Lysias, the most straightforward example of plain style, to shed light on the basic structure and critical language that he is going to adopt in his critical essays.

The critical language introduced in Dionysius’ Lysias is also reflected, even though to a somewhat lesser extent, in his later work Demosthenes. Lysias is used as the representative of plain style and opposed to Thucydides who is the figure for grand style. When introducing Isocrates and the middle style, the main object of attention in this essay, Dionysius again makes productive use of Lysias and the characteristics of style introduced in Lysias to show how representatives of the middle style are able to make use both of the plain and the grand style. Isocrates’ style, for example, is described as having the Lysianic purity (τὸ καθαρόν), clarity (τὸ ἀκριβές), use of common words (κοινότατα ὀνόματα), moral tone (ἠθική). Furthermore, it is persuasive (πιθανή), pleasant (ἡδεῖα) and avoids metaphorical expression (πέφευγε τὴν τροπικήν) (4.1–2). Demosthenes’ ability to write in a plain style is described with the same critical vocabulary familiar from Dionysius’ previous essays. His forensic style is as pure (καθαρά), precise (ἀκριβής) and lucid (σαφής), composed in standard words (διὰ τῶν κυρίων τε καὶ κοινῶν ὀνομάτων), as that of Lysias. It is also concise (σύντομος), terse (στρογγύλη), full of realism (ἀληθείας μεστή), simple (ἀφελής), persuasive (πιθανή), moral (ἐν ἤθει) and charming (χάριτες).Footnote ⁷³ In a later passage, Demosthenes’ style is described as incorporating features of the plain style (τὸ σαφές, τὸ κοινόν) where appropriate and the elements of the grand style when needed (34). In sum, Dionysius’ discussion of Demosthenes’ style is in certain respects drawing on the discussion of Lysias’ style, and he is certainly making use of the same critical terminology in this later work.

Finally, Lysias and Dionysius’ first critical essay Lysias have a prominent position in Dionysius’ essay Dinarchus. In the beginning of the essay, Dionysius quotes the judgement of Dinarchus by another critic, Demetrius of Magnesia, who was active at the time of Cicero, thus a few decades before Dionysius.Footnote ⁷⁴ Demetrius appears to make use of a similar technical language to that we see in Dionysius: Dinarchus is described as persuasive, his diction portrays moral character in standard language, and is capable of arousing emotion.Footnote ⁷⁵ It is curious that the first characteristic that Dionysius quotes from Demetrius’ work is Dinarchus’ charm which he compares to that of Hyperides (οὐδὲν ἀπολείπων τῆς Ὑπερείδου χάριτος).Footnote ⁷⁶ From this quotation, which is admittedly taken out of context and also intended to discredit the older critic, we get a sense that Demetrius considers χάρις a basic stylistic category, one that is easy to understand and does not require further explanation. Dionysius could not have disagreed more. Also, many orators are measured according to their χάρις and this quality does not seem in any way connected (in Demetrius’ quotation) to Lysias. It is perhaps not a surprise then that Dionysius finds fault with Demetrius and his approach to Dinarchus. Indeed, Dionysius is unhappy with Demetrius’ criticism and complains that it is neither precise nor accurate; Demetrius has used the common critical terminology without contributing to the scholarship.Footnote ⁷⁷ Even though in what follows, Dionysius makes use of a very similar critical terminology, referring to terms like lucidity, naturalness, charm and animation, his comparative criticism and close analysis of original passages make his judgement more systematic and informative. In passages where Dionysius introduces critical terminology, his early work on Lysias seems implicitly evoked for comparison and context.Footnote ⁷⁸ All in all, we notice a general trajectory of critical language from Dionysius’ earliest critical essay on Lysias until his late essay on Dinarchus. This ‘tool-kit’ is enlarged throughout his numerous essays, but some of the most important features introduced in Dionysius’ Lysias remain at the center stage of his critical outlook throughout his critical oeuvre.

This position runs somewhat counter to the arguments advanced by Bonner in his work on Dionysius’ essays, where he aims to map out the development of Dionysius’ critical method throughout his work on ancient orators.Footnote ⁷⁹ The evidence Bonner is drawing on, explicit examples from the essays where Dionysius adds new elements or elaborates on existing elements of his critical method, is clear and confirms Bonner’s observations. It is surely true that Dionysius incorporates in the course of his writing new elements that show him as broadening his critical method and outlook. Yet, the fact that Dionysius’ essays on the orators grow in sophistication as he emphasizes different elements in their styles might also be read to suggest that this was exactly what Dionysius’ essays were meant to do from the start: Dionysius seems to invite us to follow the ever more complicated details of style and method as he works his way through the different authors, and thus asks us to build upon the knowledge we have acquired from reading the previous author and to apply and elaborate that on the subsequent authors he is discussing. The implicit cross-references in his essays, as shown above for example in the essay on Dinarchus, seem to corroborate this conclusion. In fact, strategic thinking seems to be at the core of Dionysius’ selection of the ancient orators: every figure enables him to pursue a different agenda and emphasize various aspects of Greek oratory and rhetoric that he perceived to be relevant to his Roman environment.Footnote ⁸⁰ While Lysias is the first in line and introduced as standard for style, Isocrates (as will be argued below) is important for giving the direction and moral boundaries for rhetoric. Isocrates also comes to stand for the teacher figure who serves as an intellectual for the community, effectively laying out Dionysius’ own image as a teacher and critic in Rome, the cultural hub of the world. Isaeus is included as an intermediary between Lysias and Demosthenes, a teacher not of the city as a whole, but of the complete orator – Demosthenes.Footnote ⁸¹

Lysias, then, is the earliest and the first orator treated in the collection, and he has therefore an important role to play in the whole project. Through this orator, Dionysius sketches out the terminology of style that he adopts for all following essays and introduces his critical method to rhetoric. The subsequent treatments of other orators will expand and modify, but not substantially change the outlook and critical ‘tool-kit’ introduced in that first essay. As such, Dionysius’ critical essays seem to function almost like protreptics to literary and rhetorical criticism.Footnote ⁸² Dionysius is guiding his reader towards a competence in literary and rhetorical criticism by feeding them with just enough information at each stop/essay to get a sense of increasing knowledge and understanding of the complicated field of rhetoric. And Lysias, the first author Dionysius discusses in detail, becomes a model of style against which all following orators are measured.

The inclusion of Isaeus over, say, Antiphon (the earliest Attic orator that we have evidence of), may seem surprising. Indeed, it is curious that Dionysius decided not to include Antiphon in his list of orators, especially since this orator had been associated with forceful style before (Thuc. 8.68.1) and is credited by Dionysius elsewhere with innovative style (e.g. ad Amm. 2.3.). He would have been in a good position to claim a spot in his project. Footnote ⁸³ Dionysius asks himself this very question and responds, rather hesitantly, that Isaeus is admittedly only included for his alleged effect on Demosthenes (20.5: ‘I think the seeds of genius […] are present in this man’, my emphasis). When Dionysius refers elsewhere, however, to the illustrious orators of that period, he readily substitutes Isaeus with Antiphon. So, for example, in his essay Thucydides, where he lists the three – Antiphon, Lysias and Isocrates (in that order) – as the ‘leading orators of the day’ (53.1: οὔτε Ἀντιφῶν οὔτε Λυσίας οὔτε Ἰσοκράτης οἱ πρωτεύσαντες τῶν τότε ῥητόρων). It is also plausible that Dionysius was intent on commencing the project with Lysias and precisely for that reason did not want to include an older orator, Antiphon, who on a chronological basis would have had to precede Lysias and thus become the measure against which all following orators would be assessed. In order to create a neat chronological sequence and still keep Lysias in the first position, Dionysius decided to include Isaeus and leave out Antiphon.

There is something else about Lysias that might have been relevant for Dionysius: he was not an Athenian citizen. Though born and raised in Athens, Lysias was not and never seems to have become an Athenian citizen.Footnote ⁸⁴ In fact, he is the only non-Athenian orator included in the project On the Ancient Orators.Footnote ⁸⁵ Therefore, in addition to what has already been said about Lysias’ importance for Dionysius, it is worth considering the possibility that Lysias played such a crucial role in his critical essays also because he, like Dionysius himself, was not a citizen of the city (Athens/Rome) where he lived and reached his renown. Furthermore, Lysias’ dedication to his ‘host-city’ Athens is widely on display in his twelfth speech, Against Eratosthenes, which is the only one in the corpus that can be confidently ascribed to Lysias himself (and as such the only non-logographic speech). To a large extent, the speech is staging a pronounced contrast between citizens and metics (under the Thirty),Footnote ⁸⁶ where the former have become the villains and a threat to the city and the latter (in particular Lysias and his family, of course) emerge as ultimate benefactors and restorers of Athenian democracy and its moral standard.Footnote ⁸⁷ The emphasis on the value of committed foreigners to the city is something that would have been relevant also to Dionysius and his fellow teachers, intellectuals and writers who hailed from the margins of the empire to contribute to the intellectual life of Rome. Whatever Dionysius’ feelings towards Augustus and the political regime in Rome were at the time,Footnote ⁸⁸ his manifesto On the Ancient Orators clearly indicates a strong belief in Rome as the center of the world, and in himself as contributing to the flourishing of that city. Indeed, sometimes it takes a foreigner (Lysias/Dionysius) to restore and promote the values of the great city (Athens/Rome) …

We saw in the previous chapter that Lysias had a foundational role in Dionysius’ critical work. Isocrates is another crucial pillar in Dionysius’ rhetorical edifice, whose influence extends primarily to his treatment of the educational and philosophical components of rhetoric. Isocrates’ importance for Dionysius has long been acknowledged and Dionysius himself is very explicit about it. He gives the clearest account of the Isocratean flavor of his program in his Isocrates, which is the second essay of the collection On the Ancient Orators. The structure of Isocrates is very similar to the previous work of the collection, Lysias, but in the course of the essay it becomes increasingly clear that Dionysius’ emphasis and interest in the orator are visibly different from the stylistic concerns which were such a prominent feature of the first essay.Footnote ¹ Dionysius sets up a new image of Isocrates, determined to show that he is not merely another orator on the list. We will see that Isocrates becomes a representative of the novel vision of education and rhetoric advocated by Dionysius and tailored to the particular political context of first-century bce Rome.

On the one hand, it is clear from Isocrates’ works, from the topics and the style in which they are treated, that he was not just another speechwriter. As we noticed before, his reception too, up until the first century bce, had primarily emphasized the political and philosophical aspects of his work, though the philosophical dimension had not received much detailed attention. He was primarily regarded as in opposition (and inferior) to other philosophical schools. On the other hand, Isocrates had made significant contributions to writing and style, eventually also becoming firmly fixed in the canon of ten orators.Footnote ² Hence, despite his continued relevance for Greek paideia, Isocrates remained in-between rhetoric and philosophy and was – for all the reasons discussed in previous chapters – not a mainstream author, neither for the philosophers nor for the orators. One of the contributing reasons for such an assessment might have been Plato’s Phaedrus, which also casts Isocrates famously as somewhere in-between rhetoric and philosophy. Similarly to his essay on Lysias, where Dionysius was in constant dialogue and competition with Plato’s Phaedrus and its evaluation of Lysias’ style, so too we see an underlying influence of the Phaedrus in Dionysius’ essay on Isocrates. As a response to Plato and other critics, Dionysius’ innovative approach to Isocrates lies in bringing him to the center of his rhetorical pedagogy and celebrating Isocrates’ work as ‘true philosophy’. His emphasis on the practical aspects of Isocrates’ philosophy might also suggest that he was aiming to appeal to the tastes of his Roman students and readers.

8.1 Dionysius’ On Isocrates

Dionysius’ essay on Isocrates is thematically divided into three parts: the long first chapter lays out Isocrates’ life and summarizes his influence on rhetoric and philosophy, the second part (chapters 2–14) reviews the stylistic and thematic strengths and weaknesses of Isocrates’ discourses, and the third part (chapters 15–20) quotes and discusses two examples from Isocrates’ speeches. The structure of the essay, then, is similar to Dionysius’ previous essay Lysias and, furthermore, Lysias remains the most important figure of comparison for Dionysius’ discussion of Isocrates throughout the essay. This supports a reading suggested above that the two works were intended to be complementary.

However, a few interesting details and divergences from Lysias immediately stand out in this essay. Firstly, compared to the biographical section of Dionysius’ essay on Lysias, which was very brief and primarily focused on laying out the breadth of Lysias’ writings, in this essay Dionysius takes time and space to inform the reader in more detail about Isocrates’ life and teachings. It is not surprising that he relies in this section heavily on Isocrates’ own writings, in which references to his position, career and mind-set abound. As Wiater notes, ‘Dionysius adopts the self-image Isocrates created in his writings’,Footnote ³ and given the wealth of such information available, Dionysius appears to make use of this information as widely as possible.Footnote ⁴ There might be, however, more to this biographical interest than first meets the eye. Isocrates’ self-presentation is closely connected to his overarching message, repeatedly expressed in his discourses, that philosophy is not about theoretical quibbles and technical talk, but rather about making good decisions for the community and about how to reach those. Spending time on setting out in laudatory terms the kind of person, teacher and philosopher Isocrates was, is also time spent on preparing his readers for the kind of teaching and philosophy that Dionysius himself is striving towards.Footnote ⁵ There is a marked contrast, therefore, with his evaluation of Lysias, who is expected to give the tone and perspective for a good rhetorical style. Isocrates and Dionysius will provide the substance.

From Isocrates’ biographical details, Dionysius highlights the following as particularly important: his Athenian identity and family background (1.1), early education and interests in philosophy and politics, his intellectual influences in both philosophy and politics (1.1–2), the important themes that characterize Isocrates’ work (1.3), and the influence of his work in his own time (1.5). According to Dionysius, Isocrates was the first to turn rhetoric away from eristics and natural sciences towards political themes (1.4: πρῶτος ἐχώρησεν ἀπὸ τῶν ἐριστικῶν τε καὶ φυσικῶν ἐπὶ τοὺς πολιτικούς), implying that Isocrates’ approach was followed by later rhetoricians. Isocrates was an influential teacher and intellectual and his students were successful in a variety of fields (forensic orators, politicians, historians); Dionysius concludes that Isocrates had made his school a symbol of the Athenian polis (τῆς Ἀθηναίων πόλεως εἰκών) according to writings from abroad (1.6), and that he was most successful in making money out of philosophy (1.6: πλοῦτον ὅσον οὐδεὶς τῶν ἀπὸ φιλοσοφίας χρηματισαμένων περιποιησάμενος).

Many of these claims need unpacking and some of this explanatory work, especially in relation to Isocrates’ contributions to conceptualizing Greek identity and its special appeal to Dionysius, has been undertaken in more recent scholarship. Hidber, for example, has recognized Isocrates’ influence on Dionysius in the following areas: the use of antagonism between ‘us’ and ‘them’ (in Isocrates primarily shaped as a contrast between the Greeks and the barbarians), the idea of good education as being based on cultivating the ability to write good prose, and the idea of broad education as philosophy that prepares his followers/students for public life (political career).Footnote ⁶ Wiater has mostly focused on Isocrates’ influence on Dionysius’ conception of the classical or classicizing identity.Footnote ⁷ While the focus of these previous studies has been primarily on Dionysius’ use of Isocrates for laying out his classicizing program, the aim of the following analysis is to look closely at the way in which Dionysius aims to create a coherent rhetorical tradition, where Isocrates is treated as a visionary tasked to lay out the ethical limitations and possibilities of rhetoric.

One cannot fail to notice Dionysius’ downplaying of Isocrates’ distinctive style in the essay. This is also noticeable from the fact that in the second part of the essay (2–14), Dionysius spends only two chapters talking about style before turning to content. It is clear that Isocrates is important for Dionysius for what he says, but not how he says it. Isocrates famously advocated the idea that good prose is a sign of education or παιδεία, an idea that resonates strongly in Dionysius’ writings.Footnote ⁸ Yet, Dionysius’ position on Isocrates’ success in prose style is ambivalent: while acknowledging Isocrates’ contribution to raising awareness of the importance of good written self-expression and making this idea one of the central points of his ‘philosophical’ school, Dionysius has at the same time few good words to say about Isocrates’ own style. Chapter 2 of the essay, which is dedicated to a quick comparison between the styles of Lysias and Isocrates, presents Dionysius’ criticisms of Isocrates’ style: Isocrates’ style is ‘not a compact, closely-knit style’ (2.3: στρογγύλη δὲ οὐκ ἔστιν […] καὶ συγκεκροτημένη) and is therefore ‘ill-suited to forensic purposes’ (οὐκ ἔστιν […] καὶ πρὸς ἀγῶνας δικανικοὺς εὔθετος). It is also ‘not concise’ (2.3: οὐδὲ δὴ σύντομος) and the effect of a ceremonious and ornate dignity may at times be more attractive (εὐπρεπεστέρα), but at other times it seems labored (περιεργοτέρα) (2.4). In sum, Isocrates seeks ‘beauty of expression (εὐέπεια) by every means, and aims to express himself in a polished (γλαφυρῶς) rather than simple way (ἀφελῶς)’ (2.4). Finally, Isocrates uses the rounded period and strong rhythms (overusing the Gorgianic figures), all of which assimilate his prose to verse and thus render his work ‘more suitable for reading than for practical use’ (2.5: ἀναγνώσεώς τε μᾶλλον οἰκειότερός ἐστιν ἢ χρήσεως).

Dionysius’ criticism of Isocrates’ style is characteristic of Isocrates’ reception (both ancient and modern) and Dionysius points out that he is not the first to voice disapproval of Isocrates’ prose. He introduces the views of previous critics in Chapter 13, just after having given a brief overview of his own criticisms of Isocrates’ style, and claims that: ‘This judgment of mine is not, of course, original: many earlier critics have held the same view regarding Isocrates’ (13.1: οὗτος δὲ ‘οὐκ ἐμὸς ὁ λόγος’ πρώτου μὰ Δία, ἐπεὶ πολλοὶ καὶ τῶν παλαιῶν ταύτην εἶχον ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ τὴν δόξαν). It seems that οὗτος picks up a particular criticism of Isocrates’ style and most probably is a reference to the unsuitability of Isocrates in an actual court or assembly hearing that Dionysius had discussed previously.Footnote ⁹ That this is the case is confirmed by the quotations of critics that Dionysius introduces later on in the same chapter: Philonicus the grammarian complains that there is no accordance between the characters and their language (13.2), Hieronymus the philosopher claims that Isocrates’ speeches are unsuitable for declamation (13.3), and many others critics hold similar views (13.5). Dionysius agrees and evokes examples of Isocratean prose that confirm these opinions (13.6). Even though Dionysius acknowledges the fact that Isocrates’ speeches were not intended for public delivery in the courtroom (1.2), his occasionally scathing criticism of Isocrates’ style betrays how tiresome his prose must have seemed to him as well. When introducing his own extended discussion of Isocratean style, Dionysius warns the reader to disregard Isocrates’ overuse of stylistic features criticized above, because they will not be appropriate to imitate for court speeches, and advises them to focus instead on other qualities (τοῖς ἄλλοις). Presumably he means the subject matter and how Isocrates ‘shows that justice is superior to injustice not only on moral but also on practical grounds’ (15.2: διδάσκων ὡς ἔστιν οὐ μόνον κρείττων ἡ δικαιοσύνη τῆς ἀδικίας ἀλλὰ καὶ ὠφελιμωτέρα). In short, critics who are looking for models in courtroom rhetoric have rightly advised against following Isocrates’ style. Dionysius suggests, however, that style and content can be kept apart and that Isocrates should be on everyone’s minds for the latter aspect.

Is such a reading of Isocrates not undermining the unity of his teaching and thus misrepresenting his contribution? Indeed, Dionysius’ criticism of an author who has championed the notion of καιρός as one of the driving forces of his philosophy, education and prose, for lacking in good judgement in the very things that he teaches (i.e. good prose) seems to require further explanation. To be sure, Isocrates’ speeches convey the sense that his prose works are an expression of the content of his teachings, and that the two can hardly be separated.Footnote ¹⁰ That is, Isocrates’ refined, carefully composed and long-winded sentences explicitly downplay the importance of an effective performative style and instead draw attention to the writerly character of his works. Isocrates, by emphasizing in his writing the very skills of good and sophisticated prose compositions and appreciating this ability as a sign of good paideia, which stands in the center of his educational program, makes no suggestion that one could distinguish his views on good prose from their content. Dionysius, however, appears not to see this problem; for him, Isocrates is essentially a ceremonial writer, whose writing will bear recitation at formal events or be studied privately (2.6): he does not belong in the courtroom and is best in tackling grand topics (3.7: οἳ δὲ ἐν τοῖς μείζοσι καὶ θειοτέροις δεξιώτεροι, […] ὃ δ᾽ ἐν τοῖς μεγάλοις περιττότερος). In Dionysius’ own words: ‘most important is the scope of his discourses that he concentrated on and the nobility of the subjects upon which he chose to concentrate’ (4.2: μάλιστα δ’ ἡ προαίρεσις ἡ τῶν λόγων περὶ οὓς ἐσπούδαζε, καὶ τῶν ὑποθέσεων τὸ κάλλος ἐν αἷς ἐποιεῖτο τὰς διατριβάς). Even though this is never spelled out in his essays, Dionysius seems to regard a broader intellectual vision and good moral preparation essential for a successful demonstration of rhetorical mastery. In other words, Isocrates’ words are not for imitation (nor were they so intended probably also for his own school in the fourth century bce), but for reflection and general improvement of character. In this sense, by constantly reminding his readers of the appropriate context for different kinds of rhetoric, Dionysius’ distinction between Isocrates’ style and philosophy seems more justified.

In sections 5 to 9 of the essay, Dionysius gives a list of the kinds of virtues or grand topics that one can find in Isocrates, with a brief summary of the speeches where he finds these notions advocated. In terms of the structure of the essay, this list is construed as a parallel to the kinds of stylistic virtues that Dionysius explored in his previous essay on Lysias. According to Dionysius, Isocrates’ Panegyricus can be read as an exhortation to civic virtue (5.1: πολιτικὴ καλοκἀγαθία), which consists in being prudent (5.2: σώφρων), prioritizing concern for the common good over personal advantage (5.2: οἵ γε τῶν μὲν κοινῶν μᾶλλον ἐφρόντιζον ἢ τῶν ἰδίων), valuing reputation over wealth (5.2: τὴν εὐδαιμονίαν οὐ πρὸς ἀργύριον ἔκρινον ἀλλὰ πρὸς εὐδοξίαν), moderation and observance of the tradition (5.3: ἡ τῶν καθ᾽ ἡμέραν ἐπιτηδευμάτων μετριότης μηθὲν ἐκβήσεται τῶν πατρίων), constructive spirit (5.4: προθυμία), trustworthiness (5.4: πιστότης) and emphasis on panhellenism (5.4: κοινὴν δὲ πατρίδα τὴν Ἑλλάδα οἰκοῦντες). Wiater has already shown that in summarizing the speech Dionysius is essentially relying on a very small selection of passages from that speech and has accommodated them to his own program as expressed in On the Ancient Orators, and that this is the method he adopts throughout the sections.Footnote ¹¹ Isocrates’ Letter to Philip should delight, according to Dionysius, anyone who is in a position of power (6.1: μέγεθος ἔχων ἀνὴρ καὶ δυνάμεώς τινος ἡγούμενος) and teach about the superiority of Greeks; his On the Peace should be read as an exhortation to justice and piety in international affairs (7.1: τίς δὲ ἂν μᾶλλον ἐπὶ τὴν δικαιοσύνην καὶ τὴν εὐσέβειαν προτρέψαιτο […] τοῦ Περὶ τῆς εἰρήνης λόγου); and his Areopagiticus as an encouragement to get responsibly involved in internal politics (8.1: τίς δὲ τὸν Ἀρεοπαγιτικὸν ἀναγνοὺς λόγον οὐκ ἂν γένοιτο κοσμιώτερος). While all these speeches address overlapping virtues that Dionysius mentions as the central theme of the Panegyricus, πολιτικὴ καλοκἀγαθία, his selection of speeches also seems to characterize neatly and summarize Dionysius’ interests: civic education (as portrayed in the Panegyricus), importance of Greek and Greekness (as expressed in the Letter to Philip), virtues involved in imperial politics (as laid out in On the Peace) and responsible civic action in internal politics (on the model of Areopagiticus). If this is a correct way to read Dionysius’ priorities in introducing these speeches, then this is further evidence for reading Dionysius as deeply rooted in his contemporary political scene and tailoring his ‘classicising identity’ (in Wiater’s words) to his Roman audience and their current political needs.Footnote ¹²

If indeed Dionysius is interested primarily in Isocrates’ philosophy, why does he continue spending time on analyzing his style and criticizing it? Indeed, he is far more explicit about Isocrates’ stylistic shortcomings than about laying out in more detail his philosophical content and rhetorical virtues. This could be related to what Damon suggests about Dionysius’ critical methodology, that Dionysius’ essays demonstrate the common asymmetry of judgement: it is far easier to describe the faults than to give as detailed an account of the virtues of a writer.Footnote ¹³ But it might also be the case that Dionysius’ ‘failure’ to go deeper in his explorations of the particular virtues of Isocrates’ work stems from his programmatic lack of interest in the more theoretical discussions on education, oratory and philosophy, at least for the purposes of the project he had set himself in the preface to On the Ancient Orators. Instead, with his general and impressionistic praise of Isocrates, Dionysius gives his readers a rough idea of the kind of ‘useful’ philosophical rhetoric he has in mind.Footnote ¹⁴ It is not the kind based on theoretical discussions of abstract matters, but rather the kind which appears to bring about a change in the listener’s character or mind-set simply by appealing to themes that are of seminal importance: war, peace, good life, education and so on. Interestingly, and perhaps not at all surprisingly, the impact that he seems to envision for this Isocratean philosophical rhetoric comes rather close to his ideas of Lysianic χάρις: through reading and studying of Isocrates’ work one cannot but come to realize the importance of these virtues and – having internalized them – employ them in one’s own political or writerly career. There is no need to linger on these virtues at great length (as there is no point in trying to get theoretical about how to achieve χάρις) for this is something that seems to happen to the readers of Isocrates almost instantaneously: τίς οὐκ ἂν γένοιτο (8.1)… Or at least, this is the effect Isocrates’ works will have on well-instructed students who have been exposed to these topics for a prolonged time. These brief introductory expressions of admiration for Isocrates’ discourses are well in line with Dionysius’ rhetorical program in which he assigns primary attention to the imitation of classical models and rejects the view according to which one could gain rhetorical insight from technical workbooks on the topic alone.Footnote ¹⁵

Despite the fact that Dionysius eschews any more detailed engagement with philosophy, he refers to philosophy and related fields often enough to justify a further exploration into his philosophical commitments and positions. Isocrates is, after all, initially introduced in the biographical section as a student of philosophy (1.1: φιλοσοφίας ἐπεθύμησε), a claim qualified in the next sentence by a reference to Isocrates’ teachers, Prodicus, Gorgias and Tisias. The ancient philosophical tradition links these three figures primarily, or even solely, to rhetoric and sophistry rather than to philosophy, surely as a result (at least partly) of Plato’s negative portrayal of sophists in his dialogues.Footnote ¹⁶ When Dionysius calls Isocrates’ training ‘philosophical’ and appeals as evidence for this claim to figures who have been employed by Plato precisely to specify what philosophy (as Plato construes it) is not, Dionysius appears to signal from very early on in the essay that his conception of rhetoric and philosophy will be provocatively different from that used in the philosophical schools. Furthermore, it is not a random list of sophist-philosophers that Dionysius refers to here. Indeed, when Dionysius constructs an intellectual ancestry for Isocrates’ philosophical thought he is using three sophists who all have been traditionally linked with each other through a teacher–pupil relationship: Tisias was arguably Gorgias’ teacher,Footnote ¹⁷ and according to several ancient accounts Gorgias was a teacher of Prodicus.Footnote ¹⁸ Ancient accounts that look back at the emergence of rhetoric and rhetorical theory consider Tisias one of the principal contributors (together with Corax) to this movement.Footnote ¹⁹ By tracing his intellectual lineage all the way back to Tisias,Footnote ²⁰ Dionysius not only challenges the concept of philosophy, but he also creates a sense of a continuous school of thought around Isocrates, thus lending his ideas a more ancient and authoritative aura. It was well known that Isocrates had officially set up in Athens a school of philosophy, but – since it never had succession like the Academia and the Peripatos – it eventually died out as a school after the death of Isocrates. Dionysius here connects Isocrates to thinkers who were active before philosophy became a fixed concept and therefore reinforces the idea that Isocratean philosophy is ‘true philosophy’ because it goes back to the earliest thinkers in Greece.

It is also significant that Prodicus, Gorgias and Tisias were famously known for having gathered substantial wealth through their teachings.Footnote ²¹ Plato is one of the main sources for this perception, but it is also confirmed by Isocrates who claims in his Antidosis (155), for example, that of all sophists Gorgias made most money from teaching. Be that as it may, by Dionysius’ time it might have been commonplace to regard the activity of ancient sophists as a lucrative business,Footnote ²² all of which makes it even more curious that Dionysius is evoking the trio with all their heavyweight sophistic connotations as philosophical teachers of Isocrates. Furthermore, Dionysius then goes on to say that Isocrates himself made most money out of philosophy (1.6: ἀπὸ φιλοσοφίας), his discourses contain the best possible lessons in virtue (4.3: κράτιστα παιδεύματα πρὸς ἀρετήν), they give an understanding of politics as a whole (4.4: ὅλη τῆς πολιτικῆς) and should be read by anyone who is interested in ‘true philosophy’ (4.4: ἀληθινὴ φιλοσοφία). Based on this description, Dionysius appears as a careful reader of Isocrates and eager to amplify the provocation that the latter had introduced for his contemporary philosophical schools and intellectuals.Footnote ²³ We should also note that Dionysius never mentions Socrates as an influence on Isocrates. It may not be too far-fetched to suggest, then, that Dionysius reiterates Isocrates’ challenge to contemporary educational models and scholastic philosophical schools.

There is another noteworthy aspect to Dionysius’ mentioning precisely these three names as Isocrates’ teachers rather than any other famous ancient rhetoricians. We have already noted the specifically anti-Platonic flavor of these first paragraphs of the essay, and this impression becomes even stronger if one considers that the only other place where these three names are evoked together is Plato’s Phaedrus (267a–b).Footnote ²⁴ In this passage, Socrates gives a list of sophists who have composed handbooks of rhetoric and whom Phaedrus considers teachers of rhetoric. He then brings out (in mocking tone) in each case what are commonly perceived to be their contributions to rhetoric. Tisias and Gorgias are credited with the invention of giving more weight to probabilities over truth, of making the small appear great by the power of their words, and of having introduced ‘conciseness of speech and measureless length on all subjects’ (συντομίαν τε λόγων καὶ ἄπειρα μήκη περὶ πάντων ἀνηῦρον). Next to the μακρολογία and βραχυλογία of Tisias and Gorgias, Prodicus is mentioned as an innovator of the ‘proper’ length of speech, the middle way (μέτριος). Socrates’ sarcastic tone when listing the famous sophists who claimed to have made advances in the art of rhetoric leaves no doubt that this constitutes a re-evaluation of these writers. Indeed, somewhat later Socrates recategorizes them as contributors to the preliminaries of the art but not to art itself (268e–9a). When Dionysius maintains, in contrast, that Tisias, Gorgias and Prodicus taught Isocrates important philosophical insights (about rhetoric?), he goes not only against the standard philosophical tradition which had considered the trio sophists, but against this passage in the Phaedrus specifically. For while Dionysius suggests that (at least some of) the philosophical core of Isocrates’ works goes back to his philosophical studies under Tisias, Gorgias and Prodicus, Plato denies them any place in the art of rhetoric, not to mention in philosophy.

Is it possible that Dionysius simply misunderstood the Phaedrus and is evoking it to support his interpretation even though the dialogue itself, when read closely, suggests a different kind of reading?Footnote ²⁵ We have seen before that Dionysius opts for a superficial reading of the characters’ claims and does not consider the possibility of irony (e.g. in the evaluation of Lysias or the praise of Isocrates at the end). This is possible, though I consider it rather unlikely. Dionysius’ ambivalent attitude to Plato, particularly to the latter’s competence as a stylist and a critic of style, suggests that Dionysius does have the ability to critically engage with the text. I think it is more likely that Dionysius goes against Plato and Plato’s authority deliberately. This would bring about two possible reactions: for those who know their Plato, Dionysius appears a provocative author who is undertaking a criticism of the most influential text published thus far on the rhetorical tradition – the Phaedrus. For those who are not familiar with the complexities of the rhetorical and philosophical tradition (especially for Dionysius’ students), Dionysius appears to reinforce ideas presented there and is thus able to demonstrate his intimacy with the characters and terminological details of this powerful dialogue.

All in all, Plato’s Phaedrus appears to frame Dionysius’ discussion of Lysias and Isocrates and it is certainly a work with which Dionysius is closely, if antagonistically, in dialogue.Footnote ²⁶ That Dionysius is a close reader of Plato’s Phaedrus, and emphatically regards Isocrates as the representative of ‘true philosophy’, prompts further questions about his conception of philosophy and the way it is treated elsewhere in his critical works. In On the Ancient Orators, for example, Dionysius describes the overall motivations for his critical project and suggests there that the work is intended primarily for ‘those who study political philosophy’ (4.2: τοῖς ἀσκοῦσι τὴν πολιτικὴν φιλοσοφίαν). We will briefly investigate what exactly that means and to what extent Isocrates is a guiding figure for such ‘political philosophy’ throughout Dionysius’ critical works.

8.2 Dionysius on True Rhetoric, True Philosophy and True Isocrates

With regard to his views on rhetoric and philosophy, Dionysius does not seem to be a follower of any one particular philosophical school. Instead, it has been argued that Dionysius draws on a variety of philosophical schools, such as the Stoics (especially in grammar), Peripatetics and that he has a close familiarity with Plato.Footnote ²⁷ In his essay on Isocrates, Dionysius provocatively associates his interests in Isocrates with what he calls ‘true’ philosophy (4.4: ἀληθινὴ φιλοσοφία). This section should probably be read side-by-side with the opening sections of On the Ancient Orators, where Dionysius talks about ἡ ἀρχαία καὶ φιλόσοφος ῥητορική (1.2) – an ancient philosophical rhetoric – which, given the intense debates of the fourth century bce (at least as recorded in Plato, Isocrates and Aristotle) on the complicated relationship between philosophy and rhetoric, might seem rather controversial, or at least require further explanation. As mentioned above, this combination of philosophy and rhetoric vividly evokes Plato’s views on this matter in the Phaedrus which has already been suggested to play a more general and in a way fundamental role in evaluating the aims of Dionysius’ critical essays. Dionysius does seem to take up Plato’s challenge of developing a ‘philosophical rhetoric’, but, instead of joining rhetoric with (Platonic) metaphysics, Dionysius weaves political and ethical philosophy into current practices of rhetoric. Indeed, there is something deeply un-Platonic in Dionysius’ understanding of this kind of philosophical rhetoric as the starting point, rather than a distant and perhaps unachievable goal (as in the Phaedrus), of a rhetorical or philosophical enterprise. While the Phaedrus begins with rhetoric and moves slowly to a different, philosophical, conception of the art, Dionysius proposes philosophical rhetoric almost as a generally understood or common notion requiring no further explanation.

Another controversial, and arguably anti-Platonic, aspect that Dionysius brings up in relation to Isocrates and his practice of philosophy is money.Footnote ²⁸ This topic was briefly touched upon above in the analysis of Dionysius’ use of Tisias, Gorgias and Prodicus as Isocrates’ philosophical models. It seems that ever since Plato’s dialogues, where sophists’ lucrative practice of ‘selling education’ was subjected to profound criticism with long-lasting effect on subsequent generations,Footnote ²⁹ material wealth had been strongly disassociated from (teaching) philosophy. Amongst different philosophical schools, Isocrates had always been the exception who did not criticize his contemporary sophists for taking money, but suggested that they were taking too little!Footnote ³⁰ To judge by the way in which Dionysius emphasizes and applauds Isocrates’ financial success through his philosophical activities, it is clear that Dionysius has a rather un-Platonic position on this aspect of education and philosophy, and he openly turns to Isocrates, Plato’s rival, as a model for an intellectual as well as a financial success story.Footnote ³¹ But what exactly does this emphasis on financial success mean in the context of Dionysius’ essays? Perhaps nothing less than challenging the position and role of philosophy in his contemporary environment and, through the figure of Isocrates, sketching out another way to see philosophy as practical and meaningful for the social and political surroundings. Hence, Dionysius does not turn to Socrates when in search of alternatives, for Socrates is claimed as the fountainhead for most philosophical schools of the time, but rather to Isocrates. In fact, Dionysius mentions Socrates only as a character in Plato’s dialogues, or makes use of ‘Socratic’ as a generic term for writers of Socratic dialogues (Σωκρατικοὶ λόγοι).Footnote ³² Dionysius does not refer to Socrates’ engagement with Athenians or his influence on moral philosophy. Moreover, it seems that the image of the impoverished Socrates that became an important inspiration for the conception of a (true) philosopher carries little weight with Dionysius, whose turn to Isocrates, one of the wealthiest Athenians of the time, clearly signals a highly polemical attitude towards this kind of philosophical tradition. Dionysius is instead attracted to Isocrates who stands for an intellectual who values rhetorical education with its emphasis on language and writing, who has a stake in politics and considers active participation in actual decision-making as one’s civic duty, and finally who has a respectable standing in society due to ample financial means, thus giving intellectuals the (political) authority needed to promote culture and education. This image of a rich Isocrates might have struck the wealthy Roman patrons as an attractive model of an intellectual. Indeed, these are the same patrons who would presumably send their offspring to be taught by Dionysius.

In his critical essays, however, Dionysius is cautious with terminology, and it might seem as if his references to philosophy do not bear out this provocative reading sketched out above. Looking at Dionysius’ (explicit) engagement with the terms φιλοσοφία, ῥητορική and their various cognates, for example, it appears that despite the fact that Dionysius claims Isocrates to be the proponent of ‘true philosophy’ (ἀληθινὴ φιλοσοφία), in his essay Isocrates he most often describes him with the noun rhêtôr (ῥήτωρ).Footnote ³³ Dionysius seems to have considered ῥήτωρ the most appropriate label for Isocrates, as he uses this often (as a stylistic device) to avoid repeating Isocrates’ name (e.g. 8.1, 9.1, 20.5). In fact, the word ‘philosopher’ (φιλόσοφος) is used once in the essay as an epithet and in this case to denote somebody else: in Chapter 13 where Dionysius introduces the positions of previous critics on the style of Isocrates, he claims that Hieronymus the philosopher (13.13: Ἱερώνυμος ὁ φιλόσοφος) finds Isocrates effective in reading but unsuccessful when delivered. What is interesting about this sentence, aside from its comparison with Isocrates, is the reference to a philosopher who is actually reading Isocrates’ works and assessing them on the grounds of their ‘performability’. In the same essay, on another occasion, Dionysius goes as far as to contrast Isocrates with philosophers. When commenting on Isocrates’ speech Archidamus, Dionysius claims: ‘I would certainly say that Isocrates was giving this advice not only to the Spartans but also to other Greeks; and for all men it is much more effective advice than that given by all those philosophers who make virtue and beauty (ἀρετὴ καὶ τὸ καλόν) the purpose of life’ (9.10). Usher renders τὴν ἀρετὴν καὶ τὸ καλόν as ‘the good and noble’, but this might obscure Dionysius’ point. For Dionysius is presumably not saying that Isocrates is uninterested in ‘the good’ as the goal of life; he seems instead interested in drawing attention to the distinction between the immediate and pragmatic on the one hand, and the general and valuable in itself on the other. He is praising Isocrates for giving clear pragmatic advice to the Spartans and everyone on how to act in particular circumstances, and Dionysius suggests that in these circumstances (when decisions regarding war are made) this kind of advice is to be preferred to the more general and vague discussions of the philosophers. This comparison gives us significant information about Dionysius’ opinion of philosophers, and gives some hints about why Isocrates is not associated with the φιλόσοφοι.Footnote ³⁴ The so-called philosophers are simply useless characters and calling Isocrates by that name would obscure his potential contributions.

Yet, while Isocrates himself is not awarded the ‘title’ of a φιλόσοφος, his area of interest and activity is more often considered by Dionysius as philosophy. We see this shifting focus, for example, in the very first chapter of the essay, where Isocrates is described as being attracted to the study of philosophy (1.1: φιλοσοφίας ἐπεθύμησε), having made more money than anyone from philosophy (1.6: ἀπὸ φιλοσοφίας). Again, Dionysius suggests that anyone interested in ‘true philosophy’ should go and study with Isocrates (4.4: καὶ εἴ τις ἐπιτηδεύει τὴν ἀληθινὴν φιλοσοφίαν […] παρακελευσαίμην ἂν αὐτῷ τὴν ἐκείνου τοῦ ῥήτορος μιμεῖσθαι προαίρεσιν), his logoi are the best, most true and appropriate to philosophy (7.5: τούτων γὰρ οὐκ οἶδ᾽ εἴ τις ἂν ἢ βελτίους ἢ ἀληθεστέρους ἢ μᾶλλον πρέποντας φιλοσοφίᾳ δύναιτο λόγους εἰπεῖν), and Dionysius claims that Isocrates’ ‘philosophical purpose’ is superior to everyone else’s (12.2: τὸ φιλόσοφον τῆς προαιρέσεως). These examples suggest that while Dionysius deliberately avoids calling Isocrates a philosopher, he is at the same time happy to refer to Isocrates’ activity and works as philosophy. This is in line with Isocrates’ own conception of his practice, for he too avoided openly calling himself a philosopher, and instead made claims about philosophy.Footnote ³⁵

But what does Dionysius mean when he talks about ‘true philosophy’? What kind of opposition is he setting up with this insistent emphasis on ‘true’ (as opposed to ‘false’?) philosophy? Is ‘true’ here simply another way to say ‘better’ or ‘more accurate’? Dionysius makes no attempt to clarify this usage and, interestingly, in his preface to On the Ancient Orators he never uses this adjective (‘true’ or ‘truthful’, ἀληθής or ἀληθινός) to characterize the subject of his work, ‘the ancient and philosophical rhetoric’ (ἡ ἀρχαία καὶ φιλόσοφος ῥητορική). From the previous discussion, however, it seems clear that ‘true philosophy’ is a polemical term and intended to be opposed to some other, previous, conceptualizations of philosophy. What exactly Dionysius intended with this opposition we cannot know for sure, but it is highly plausible that Dionysius contrasts his notion of philosophy with that put forth by philosophical schools which laid primary emphasis on theoretical contemplation and presupposed theoretical foundation as the basis for any form of action. Dionysius, who advocates in his critical works a view of judgements as having both rational and irrational components,Footnote ³⁶ must therefore regard this kind of (anti-theoretical) philosophy as ‘more true’ to human nature, as it also takes into account human actions that cannot be logically reasoned or accounted for. In this sense, Isocrates’ denial of the possibility for human knowledge with its wider implications for any kind of theoretical activity could well be seen as parallel to, or an inspiration for, Dionysius’ ‘true’ philosophy.

It has to be taken into account that Isocrates and his pupils were operating in a very different environment from that of Dionysius, and that the semantic fields of the notions ‘philosophy’ and ‘philosopher’ were more fluid and less theorized in fourth-century bce Athens when compared to first-century bce Rome.Footnote ³⁷ By Dionysius’ time, philosophical schools had been running for about three hundred years, each making specific claims about philosophy and what it means to be a ‘professional’ philosopher. Moreover, often the direction and specific interests pursued in a philosophical school were determined by the lead ‘professional’ scholarch: e.g. with Arcesilaus the Academy became skeptic, with Antiochus of Ascalon the Academy became eclectic, Chrysippus developed Stoic logic and is famously claimed to be responsible for the existence of the Stoa, and so on.Footnote ³⁸ The notion of a ‘philosopher’ had thus become associated with a professional thinker who worked within a specific philosophical tradition and was in constant conversation with a rather narrow circle of similar-minded people. Despite their potentially conflicting positions, members of different philosophical schools would nevertheless call their opponents ‘philosophers’, because they share some basic understanding about the profession, about how philosophy is fundamentally done, and this was often a direct result of sharing philosophical authorities across schools (e.g. Socrates was considered a foundational figure for the Cynics, Stoics and Academics).

In his critical essays where Dionysius addresses Roman intellectuals, many of whom would have studied or been familiar with the philosophical schools, Dionysius is cautious and avoids going against the standard philosophical terminology. This is understandable: in order to be taken seriously as a teacher, he had to exhibit familiarity with the relevant terminology, especially on matters that were tangentially relevant but not directly the focus of his writing. Indeed, as his First letter to Ammaeus suggests, Dionysius was well aware of the prominent members of established philosophical schools, and was willing to engage with them on issues that concerned him. In such situations, Dionysius had to demonstrate himself as competent in current debates and capable of engaging in constructive conversation. This was not the appropriate place, in other words, to start questioning the meaning of philosophy itself. When, however, Dionysius discusses Isocrates and the philosophical underpinnings of his own views on rhetoric, he is clearly in a better position to offer a more provocative vision of the field and to challenge the existing philosophical establishment. And even in his essay on Isocrates, where he explicitly promotes ‘true philosophy’, he actually only implicitly goes against the standard philosophical tradition,Footnote ³⁹ for ultimately the aim of the whole project was to provide students with rhetorical models for imitation and not an extended debate about the true meaning and application of philosophy. Isocrates is singled out as offering philosophical perspective and inspiration for students of rhetoric, but a closer analysis of how to actually read Isocrates and interpret his work seems to fall unfortunately outside Dionysius’ objectives. Elsewhere, when reviewing different orators and reflecting on the views of various other critics, Dionysius follows the widely shared and traditional sense of philosophers and makes no reference to ‘true philosophy’.

Hence, where Dionysius operates as a literary critic, he makes a clear distinction between rhetoric and philosophy and their respective aims and methods. In fact, a clear example of Dionysius’ distinct use of the notions rhetoric and philosophy is his First letter to Ammaeus (FLA), which explicitly contrasts both professions: the philosopher Aristotle and the orator Demosthenes.Footnote ⁴⁰ This is a fascinating and frustrating work at the same time: it raises important questions regarding the relationship between rhetoric and philosophy, but (even less than his essay on Isocrates) does not aim to discuss them more thoroughly and ends up being solely interested in establishing a strict chronology between the works of Aristotle and Demosthenes.Footnote ⁴¹ The first couple of chapters of FLA promise, however, something quite exciting: Dionysius finds the view that Demosthenes might have used Aristotle’s Rhetoric to compose his speeches at first ridiculous, but realizing that this argument is brought forward by a respectable Peripatetic,Footnote ⁴² he writes this letter to demonstrate the falsity of this account and prevent the philosopher from publishing his views (FLA 1.23). Dionysius is worried that if this view becomes more widespread, people might start thinking that all the precepts of rhetoric are comprehended in the Peripatetic philosophy (2.3):

In other words, the Peripatetic tradition might be an important source for rhetorical technique, but this is only one among many useful sources one could turn to. Even the best orators of the fourth century (e.g. Demosthenes) knew this and chose eclectically between various models (2.3) – a technique Dionysius recommends and highlights as the purpose of his writing the critical essays (Ant Or. 4).

Interestingly, however, Dionysius does not base his claims about the relationship between Demosthenes and Aristotle on their different views of the rhetorical art. Rather, Dionysius seems to suggest that while it is certain that Demosthenes could not have read Aristotle’s Rhetoric, the latter could have based his Rhetoric on the speeches of Demosthenes and of other orators (FLA 12). Even though Dionysius’ extended discussion of the matter might initially suggest otherwise, it is not simply a matter of chronology, of who managed to write down their insights on rhetoric first. Rather, Dionysius might be making here a more general point about studying rhetoric: it does not suffice to read theoretical instructions about how to write/perform speeches, but rather it is important to explore the actual practice and study the performed speeches of orators, much like Demosthenes had to do.Footnote ⁴³ Aristotle’s theoretical explorations, although helpful, can only go to a certain extent in helping the student of oratory; and even then, it is still necessary to become intimately acquainted with the actual speeches of those orators who are regarded as the best. In other words, there is something important to be learned from mimesis that cannot be found in the theoretical discussions of the ‘philosophers’. The letter is frustrating, however, because it seems to imply this interpretation, but does not explicitly state it. Why? Dionysius keeps constantly going back to various chronological evidence, bringing little proofs from Demosthenes and Aristotle’s Rhetoric that would prove that the influence could not have been from the philosopher to the orator. It seems likely that the literary historian has taken over the literary critic at this point, and rather than fleshing out a more general account about why any such comparison between a theoretical text on rhetoric and actual speeches makes little sense, Dionysius continues to exhibit his command of the historical material.

The uselessness of philosophers for rhetorical instruction is also expressed in Dionysius’ De compositio verborum (CV). There, Dionysius looks at Stoic philosophers as potentially useful sources for principles governing composition.Footnote ⁴⁴ This discussion is prefaced by a reference to Chrysippus, the famous head of the Stoa of the third century bce, whose writings on (what may appear to be) similar topics demonstrate clearly to Dionysius that the Stoic is inept in arranging his compositions: ‘of writers who have been judged worthy of renown or distinction, none has written treatises on logic with more precision, and none has published discourses which are worse specimens of composition’.Footnote ⁴⁵ And Chrysippus is just one example, the tip of the iceberg. While admitting that Chrysippus approaches the topic from a strictly logical perspective, Dionysius is nevertheless eager to find out whether there is anything in Stoic examination of the topic that might be of use for someone interested in composition. He answers this, unsurprisingly, with the negative. Despite the similarity of the titles of their worksFootnote ⁴⁶ – and to give an example Dionysius quotes the title of Chrysippus’ work On the Classification of the Parts of Speech (4.20: περὶ τῆς συντάξεως τῶν τοῦ λόγου μερῶν) – Stoic works are solely interested in logical investigationsFootnote ⁴⁷ which examine categories of propositions, whether they are true or false, possible or impossible, admissible or variable, ambiguous and so forth (4.21). Dionysius concludes that they ‘contribute nothing helpful or useful to civil oratory, at least as far as the attractiveness and beauty of style are concerned, which should be the aim of composition’.Footnote ⁴⁸ In other words, Stoic philosophers, even when they discuss a topic of interest to those concerned with composition, focus solely on the logical and highly abstract side of the question and, in so doing, they fail to say anything practically relevant on the subject. In contrast to the Stoic philosophers (τοῖς ἀπὸ τῆς Στοᾶς φιλοσόφοις) whose interest lies in logic and theoretical speculations, Dionysius is explicitly associating himself with political discourses (τοῖς πολιτικοῖς λόγοις), whose success in composition is measured in terms of pleasure and beauty of style. Here we see, then, the opposition between philosophy as a purely theoretical pursuit and Dionysius’ practice-driven conception of politikoi logoi fully set out.Footnote ⁴⁹

Yet, while distancing himself from ‘theoretical philosophers’, Dionysius commends philosophers’ critical attitude to their peers and authorities, and he proposes to also employ their constructive approach to literary criticism. In his essay on Thucydides, Dionysius spends some time explaining his motivations behind writing an extended critique of Thucydides. He already assumes that his views will be met with hostility by some of the readers, and evokes philosophers as examples of constructive criticism and of a method of critique that, instead of stifling the discussion, provokes a further search for truth: Aristotle, Dionysius says, criticized his teacher Plato, who in turn tried to prove his predecessors Parmenides, Protagoras and Zeno wrong (3.4). As Dionysius remarks, nobody criticizes these authors for disagreeing with their predecessors or previous authorities, ‘for it is recognized that the goal of philosophical studies is the discovery of truth by which the purpose of life is revealed’.Footnote ⁵⁰ But if this is the case with philosophers and it is widely agreed that the search for truth might in time prove previous proponents wrong, ‘why should one censure those who have taken up describing an author’s individual style when they do not ascribe to it all the qualities allowed to it by earlier critics, even those which it does not possess?’.Footnote ⁵¹ Despite the differences in topic, Dionysius assumes that literary critics share the same commitment to truth that characterizes philosophers, and thus they should also adopt the same method of constructive criticism that has been accepted for, and was widely used by, the philosophers.Footnote ⁵²

When he proposes that literary critics ‘borrow’ a useful method from the philosophers, Dionysius clearly sides with the critics and not with philosophers. At the same time, the beginning of the essay contains perhaps more references to philosophy and to his own engagement with it than what we see elsewhere in Dionysius’ work. He casually mentions that he had in fact written a polemical work on political philosophy (Thuc. 2.3: συνεταξάμην ὑπὲρ τῆς πολιτικῆς φιλοσοφίας πρὸς τοὺς κατατρέχοντας αὐτῆς ἀδίκως), gives a broad outline of philosophy, its aims and methods, and finally offers a definition of the nature of man (3.2: φύσις ἀνθρώπου): ‘No complete human being has the self-sufficiency to be infallible in either word or deed: the best is the man who hits the mark most often, and misses it least.’Footnote ⁵³ Even though this definition is offered as a justification for the following close analysis of Thucydides’ style and simply suggests that everybody makes mistakes, including Thucydides, the tone and underlying idea are relevant to what Dionysius elsewhere says about philosophy. Indeed, the language of στοχάζομαι and the implicit assumption of this passage that there is no abstract universal knowledge that would be attainable for human beings, which would enable them to attain truth or knowledge through contemplation and help them avoid making mistakes, has strong resemblances to the Isocratean concept of (the unattainability of) knowledge and the consequent possibilities for the pursuit of philosophy.Footnote ⁵⁴ Also, it is probably no coincidence that Dionysius’ views on philosophy emerge in the two essays Isocrates and Thucydides, for it is in the first where he establishes the philosophical underpinnings of the rhetorical tradition, and in the second where he places his own critical activity, both in the rhetorical and historical writings, under close scrutiny. Self-criticism and the discourse of apology is used to a powerful effect in Isocrates’ Antidosis, and the beginning of Dionysius’ Thucydides is in its spirit very similar to that Isocratean discourse. Here too Dionysius refers to his potentially hostile audience (2.2), offers a brief overview of his critical activity (2.3) and uses the language of deciding (2.4: κρίνειν), as in a court case.

This divide between theoretical and practical knowledge that seems to distance Dionysius from the philosophers, and at the same time enables him to label his own intellectual pursuit as philosophy in the wake of Isocrates, is closely connected to his views about critical judgement. Dionysius famously claims in a passage of his essay on Thucydides that there are two kinds of literary judgement, one that everyone can access and make use of, since it is based on irrational sensations and feelings that literary works arouse (4.3: τῶν τε δι᾽ αἰσθήσεως ἀλόγου καὶ τοῖς πάθεσι καταλαμβανομένων), and another that is characterized as expert knowledge and theoretical. The former comprises, in Dionysius’ words, ‘the faculties which all forms of art aim to stimulate and are the reason for its creation’ (4.3: καὶ ὅτι πᾶσα τέχνη τούτων στοχάζεται τῶν κριτηρίων καὶ ἀπὸ τούτων λαμβάνει τὴν ἀρχήν). Dionysius gives an example of this kind of sensation-based irrational judgement in action when he describes the impact of Isocrates’ discourses on himself (Demosthenes 22.1):

Dionysius then brings in a comparison with Demosthenes, but what is more relevant for the present discussion is that he prefaces these comparisons with a brief suggestion that the feelings he describes are not uniquely his own, but rather universally shared by everyone (21.4: οἴομαι δὲ κοινόν τι πάθος ἁπάντων ἐρεῖν καὶ οὐκ ἐμὸν ἴδιον μόνου). All of a sudden, when describing a universal πάθος, this irrational sensation which Dionysius outlined in Thucydides starts looking less irrational (ἄλογος) and increasingly more universal and accountable (λογικός). And Dionysius recognizes the importance of this shift, for a good critic and teacher is, presumably, someone who has both trained his (irrational) senses and is up to date with the best means of explanation.Footnote ⁵⁶ It seems, however, that there is no qualitative difference between the layman operating with his ‘un-rational sensation’ (ἄλογος αἴσθησις) and a specialist (τεχνίτης) applying ‘reasoned criteria’ (λογικὸν κριτήριον), but merely a quantitative one: the critic will have consciously cultivated his senses and abilities to describe, write down and explain the aesthetic effects of prose for students. Here again, Dionysius seems to reject pure abstract theoretical rules (like in a textbook) that can be simply imposed on oratorical practice; instead, an expert is someone who has accumulated these sensations and organized them in groups of patterns himself (much like Dionysius shows us how to do in his critical essays) that might be helpful in guiding the sensations of the students, without trying to provide a metaphysical or abstract explanation of these phenomena. In other words, just as Isocrates said (Helen 5): of important things likely conjecture is preferable to exact knowledge of the useless.

Thus far it has been emphasized that Dionysius is deeply inspired by Isocrates’ politico-philosophical program. Yet, when Dionysius decides to fashion his discourse as a politikos logos, and in so doing consciously invokes the Isocratean model, he also appears to take precautions in order to make sure that he will not be taken for yet another Isocratean stylist. Isocrates and his followers had long attracted negative attention from critics and Dionysius makes several references to this group in his essays: in CV (19.13) he refers more generally to the style of composition used by Isocrates and his followers (ἥ γε Ἰσοκράτους καὶ τῶν ἐκείνου γνωρίμων αἵρεσις), who are introduced as an example of a rather unsuccessful application of the principle of variation and change in their compositions. In Isaeus (19.4), Dionysius gives a list of famous pupils of Isocrates who cannot, however, be compared with the genius of Isocrates.Footnote ⁵⁷ Indeed, there are clear tensions between the originator and the copyist or imitator that Dionysius hints at in the last quotation, and these are further explored in his Dinarchus. There Dionysius is primarily interested in establishing useful guidelines for differentiating between authors and confirming or rejecting authorship of ancient writings. The main focus is on Dinarchus, whose varied and heterogeneous style is compared to the imitators of Isocrates who also display many similarities but also important differences from the works of Isocrates.Footnote ⁵⁸ In a later passage (8), Dionysius discloses explicitly the pitfalls of closely imitating an author. Examples are drawn more generally from the followers of Plato, Thucydides, Hyperides, Isocrates and Demosthenes, but we will focus here on the Isocrateans. The trouble with the Isocrateans, and in particular with their style, is that it became flat (ὕπτιος), rigid (ψυχρός), loosely knit (ἀσύστροφος) and affected (ἀναλήθης). Dionysius’ examples, Timaeus and Psaon, are historians (a third name mentioned, Sosigenes, is otherwise unknown), whose Isocratean style Dionysius strongly disapproves of. As a historian, as well as a literary critic and a rhetorician, Dionysius goes to quite a length to return to this topic in various essays and make clear that he is not one of the ‘Isocratean-type’ historians, or a promoter of their interpretation of the importance of Isocrates. In other words, by overtly distancing himself from previous proponents of Isocrates, Dionysius is careful to make sure that his treatment of the famous educator and rhetorician breaks new ground in the overall appreciation of Isocrates, and establishes him as an authority in the philosophical sphere of rhetoric.

It is by now clear that Plato’s Phaedrus lies in important ways behind Dionysius’ assessment of Lysias and Isocrates in his critical essays and, more generally, that this dialogue deeply informs Dionysius’ treatment of the ancient rhetorical tradition. The portrayal of an Isocrates with lots of philosophical potential, as contrasted to the clever and persuasive Lysias, is obviously indebted to the Phaedrus. While Plato’s discussion of the orators is also ironical or even outright critical, Dionysius picks up none of the criticisms of the two and has no ear for Socratic irony. Is Dionysius simply misreading the dialogue, or could we see here Dionysius’ more critical engagement with Plato? The latter option seems more plausible. Dionysius’ systematic reinterpretation of Isocrates and Lysias, combined with his ambivalent attitude to Plato (especially as a critic of style) and his ambition to put together a comprehensive account of the rhetorical tradition, all suggests that Dionysius probably entertained a competitive attitude to Plato. While the latter had had a strong impact on the reception of Lysias and Isocrates, Dionysius was to counterbalance that with his own interpretation of the two orators as constitutive pillars of the rhetorical art: Lysias as a legitimate model for style and Isocrates as the path-breaking visionary in education and philosophy. In other words, Dionysius not only follows and promotes Isocrates’ philosophy, as has been suggested many times before, but he creates the image of a ‘true Isocrates’ that he then brilliantly casts as an underlying philosophical feature of his own program. In some circles, Dionysius’ interpretation of the two rhetors prevails, in others, that of Plato. For us, however, all these four writers present the sine qua non of the ancient rhetorical tradition.