An interesting choice of title - not actually how to win an argument substantively, but how to be persuasive generally. Perhaps useful for some, but nothing groundbreaking, and often a bit too ancient to be entirely appropriate for today
Notes:
Generally, the ancient theorists spoke of a requisite triad: natural ability or inborn talent, mastery of the art of speaking as outlined in rhetorical treatises (called artes in Latin), and diligent application of one’s talent and training through practice.
[Speech / eloquence originated as a counterweight to “laws of nature” that enabled to move from “savagery” to civilisation - by convincing someone not to use force for self-interest, but for community]
the ideal orator must, in addition to knowledge of rhetorical rules, possess a vast knowledge of all the humane arts, including history, literature, law, and philosophy. Such knowledge, along with natural ability, study, and diligent practice are essential for winning an argument.
Those who in antiquity taught and wrote about the art of persuasion regularly identified three genres of oratory, or types of cases: “judicial,” suited to seeking justice in courts of law; “deliberative,” whose goal is to argue what is most beneficial or expedient in a public meeting or before an assembly; and “epideictic” or. “demonstrative,” the oratory of praise or blame, perhaps best illustrated by the funeral oration or eulogy. Handbooks tended to concentrate on the judicial genre, as perhaps being most crucial and as lending itself best to systematic exposition.
Ancient theorists organized their presentation around five parts, or activities of the orator: “invention” (discovering, that is, thinking out the material), “arrangement” (ordering the material), “style” (putting the ordered material into appropriate words),
“memory” (memorizing the speech), and “delivery” (including directives about voice, facial expression, and gesture).
Every subject that contains in itself some controversy situated in speech and debate
involves a question about a fact, or about a definition, or about the nature or quality of
an act, or about legal processes.
When the dispute is about a fact, the issue is called “conjectural,” because the plea is supported by conjectures or inferences [for example, “you did it”; “I did not”]. When, however, the issue is about a definition, it is called the “definitional” issue, because the meaning of the term must be defined in words [for example, “you did it”; “yes, but it wasn’t theft”]. When the nature or quality of the act is examined, the issue is called “qualitative,” inasmuch as the controversy concerns the value of the action and its class or quality [for example, “you did it”; “yes, but I didn’t mean to,” or “I had to”].But when the plea depends on the circumstance that it seems the right person does not
bring the case, or that he brings it against the wrong person, or before the wrong court, or at the wrong time, under the wrong statute, or for the wrong charge, or with the
wrong penalty, the issue is called “translative” because the actions appears to require a transfer to another court or a change in the form of pleading.
Nonartistic proofs are those that the
speaker does not invent by using his art, for example, written contracts and the testimony of witnesses; artistic means of persuasion, which the speaker does create by employing his art, are three in number: logos (rational argumentation), ethos (the presentation of character), and pathos (the arousal of emotions in the audience).
By most accounts, a judicial speech in its basic form has four parts, an introduction or prologue, a narration or statement of the case, an argument including a refutation of opposing arguments, and a conclusion or epilogue.
Moreover, at times a speaker might find it appropriate to add a proposition, a statement or division of his arguments, or a digression, an excursus on some related facet of the case, often on the character or actions of one of the principles involved.
The exordium, or prologue, of the speech is a passage designed to bring our audience into the proper state of mind in order to receive the rest of our argument. To accomplish this goal, the speaker should strive to secure the attention of his listeners, to make them receptive and ready to receive his arguments, and to win their goodwill.
But we are now laboring under the
opinions not only of the crowd, but also of half-educated people. They find it easier to
deal with things they cannot grasp in their entirety, if they split them apart and almost
tear them to pieces, and they separate words from thoughts just like a body from its soul —which in both cases can only wreak destruction. In my discussion, therefore, I will undertake no more than is assigned to me. I would only indicate briefly that discovering words for a distinguished style is impossible without having produced and shaped the thoughts, and that no thought can shine clearly without the enlightening power of words
Discussions concerning style in Cicero’s time were usually organized either around the four qualities or “virtues” of style as defined by Aristotle’s student Theophrastus, or according to three or more “types” or “characters.” The virtues of style are the correct use of Greek (or Latin in Cicero’s case; English, in ours), clarity, distinction (ornamentation), which includes tropes such as metaphors, figures of speech, and figures of thought, and appropriateness. The best-known categorization of “types” or “characters” of style is the threefold division into “plain,” “middle,” and “grand.”
The foundation of eloquence, just as of everything else, is wisdom. In a speech, just as in life, nothing is more difficult than to discern what is appropriate.
For these three functions of the speaker there are three styles, the plain style for proving, the middle style for delighting, and the vigorous style for swaying; and in this last resides the full force of a speaker.