Richard L. W.

Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

LONGINUS, ON THE SUBLIME (1st Century CE?)

Longinus. On the Sublime. Trans. W. Rhys Roberts. Critical Theory Since Plato. Ed.
Hazard Adams. New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1971. 76-98.
Chapter I (Defining the Sublime 1)
Longinus (the name is in inverted commas because the author of this at times longwinded treatise is unknown) is writing to a friend, Postumius Terentianus, concerning the
treatise of Caecilius on the sublime (76) which fell below the dignity of the whole
subject (76), failed to grasp the essential points (76) and conveyed to its readers but
little of that practical help which it should be a writers principal aim to give (76). Any
systematic treatise (76) should, Longinus argues, provide a statement of the subject
(76) and an indication of the methods by which we may attain our end (76), that is, a
consideration of the means by which we [as writers] can succeed in raising our capacities
to a certain pitch of elevation (76). Caecilius has, however, failed to deliver on both these
accounts.
Longinus defines sublimity (76) (or the sublime) in both oratory and poetry as a
certain distinction and excellence in expression (76) or elevated language (76). He
argues that it is from no other source than this that the greatest poets and writers have
derived their eminence and gained an immortality of renown (76). The sublime is a mark
of distinction among orators and poets. He distinguishes, on the one hand, between skill
in invention, and due order and arrangement of matter (76) which are the hard-won
result . . . of the whole texture of the composition (76) the product, in other words, of
hard work and careful craftmanship, and, on the other, sublimity per se which, flashing
forth at the right moment scatters everything before it like a thunderbolt (76) and
thereby displays the power of the orator in its plenitude (76). In other words, the
sublime seems to occur at and derive from the power of particular points (specific words or
combinations of words) in the text in question, rather than derive cumulatively from the
overall organisation of the work as a whole, the choice of topic, the development of the
argument (proof) offered in support, and so on. As we shall see, though Longinus
stresses that sublime discourses necessarily originate in a powerful mind, the mighty
thoughts of which have sublime effect on the listener, the sublime is linked primarily to the
orators / poets emotions, his /her style (not least, the use of figurative language), and his
/ her arrangement of the composition.
Longinus also argues here that the sublime is measured by its impact on the
audience. He stresses that this effect is one of not persuasion but transport (76). For
rhetoricians, persuasion, a phenomenon of a mainly intellectual sort in the course of which
one assents rationally to the propositions put forth (though, as Aristotle tells us, this is
facilitated by an attempt to appeal to the audiences emotions), is the effect aimed at in
rhetoric. By transport, however, he seems to suggest that the audience is carried away
mainly on an emotional level, enchanted even, by discourses that contain this magical
ingredient. Longinus argues that imposing speech, with the spell it throws over us,
prevails over that which aims at persuasion (76) and mere gratification (76) (he seems
to take aim in the latter regard at Plato and, later, Horace who both argue that poetry
ought to be utile et dulce [morally useful and pleasing]). This is because our
persuasions we can usually control, but the influences of the sublime bring power and
irresistible might to bear, and reign supreme over the hearer (76).
Chapter II (Explaining the Sublime 1: Natural vs Cultural Causes)

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

Here, Longinus begins by wondering whether there is such a thing as an art of the
sublime or lofty (76). His first point in this regard is that the sublime is the product in
part of nature, in part of nurture. Some are of the view that a lofty tone (76) is innate,
and does not come by teaching; nature is the only art that can compass it (76). Longinus
argues, however, that
while nature as a rule is free and independent of matters of passion and
elevation, yet is she wont not to act at random and utterly without system.
Further, nature is the original and vital underlying principle in all cases, but
system can define limits and fitting seasons, and can also contribute the
safest rules for use and practice. Moreover, the expression of the sublime is
more exposed to danger when it goes its own way without the guidance of
knowledge. (76)
Indeed, he argues, the very fact that there are some elements of expression which are in
the hands of nature alone, can be learnt from no other source than art (77). In other
words, nature must be supplemented by nurture. Longinus contrasts with the truly
sublime what he calls the pseudo-tragic (77) and frigidity (77).
Chapter III (Defining the Sublime 2:
Sublimitys Antitheses 1: Tumidity, Puerility, Inappropriate Passion)
Here, Longinus gives examples of tasteless tumidity (77), puerility (77) a defect
(77) which is the direct antithesis of elevation, for it is utterly low and mean and in real
truth the most ignoble vice of style (77) and unseasonable and empty passion, where
no passion is required, or immoderate, where moderation is needed (77), that is,
displays of emotion . . . not caused by the nature of the subject, but are purely personal
and wearisome (77).
Chapter IV (Defining the Sublime 3: Sublimitys Antitheses 2: Frigidity)
Here, Longinus discusses frigidity (77), another quality opposed to that of sublimity.
Chapter V (Defining the Sublime 4: Sublimitys Antitheses 3: Faddishness)
Longinus claims here that all ugly and parasitical growths arise in literature from a single
cause, that pursuit of novelty in the expression of ideas which may be regarded as the
fashionable craze of the day (78). He warns that while beauties of expression and
touches of sublimity, and charming elegances withal, are favourable to effective
composition (78), they are also the elements and foundation, not only of success, but
also of the contrary (78).
Later, Longinus also distinguishes between sublimity, on the one hand, and mere
accuracy, on the other, in chapters XXXIII, XXXIV and XXXV, contending that the former is
what separates the Homers, the Demosthenes and the Platos from the Hyperides and the
Lysias.
Chapter VI (Defining the Sublime 5)
Longinus states his intention here to gain . . . clear knowledge and appreciation of the
true sublime (78) and claims that judgment of style is the last and crowning fruit of long
experience (78).

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

Chapter VII (Defining the Sublime 6: Proof in Universal and Eternal Acclaim)
Here, Longinus compares the true sublime with false pretendants to the throne, fearing
whether some supposed examples have not simply the appearance of elevation with many
idle accretions (78). Our soul is instinctively uplifted by the true sublime; it takes proud
flight, and is filled with joy and vaunting, as though it had itself produced what it has
heard (78). The true sublime has a beneficial spiritual impact upon the audience: its
effect is . . . to dispose the soul to high thoughts (78) and to leave in the mind more
food for reflection than the words seem to convey (79). This is linked, Longinus argues,
to our sense of the majestic and the superlative in the world.
Longinus also argues that true sublimity (79) is timeless and universal in appeal
and, as such, bears a repeated examination (79). Examples of the true sublime
please all and at all times. For when men of different pursuits, lives,
ambitions, ages, languages, hold identical views on one and the same
subject, then that verdict which results . . . from a concert of discordant
elements makes our faith in the object of admiration strong and
unassailable. (79)
In other words, Longinus claims, consensus determines what is sublime in oratory and
poetry: if all men at all times and in all places can agree on the sublimity of a work, then it
can be assumed that such qualities inhere in that work. It is a quality objectively present
in some works, the proof of which is that people from different places and times
acknowledge this to be the case.
Chapter VIII (Explaining the Sublime 2:
the Five Causes: Logos, Pathos, Style and Arrangement)
Here, Longinus identifies the five principal sources of elevated language (79), the
common foundation (79) of all five being the gift of discourse (79), that is, a love for
and an ability to express oneself. The first two two components of the sublime are for the
most part innate (79) in that they are something with which the orator / poet is born (i.e.
they are a product of nature). The first and most important (79) source of the sublime is
what Longinus describes as the poets power of forming great conceptions (79).
Sublimity is, he writes, the echo of a great soul (79) as a result of which a bare idea, by
itself and without a spoken word, sometimes excites admiration just because of the
greatness of soul implied (79). Longinus would seem to have in mind the orators /
poets intellectual capacity or reason (logos) and, thus, his ability to put together a
reasonable argument of some kind. This falls under the rubric of what rhetoricians term
invention whereby the appropriate topics are found and proved by means of abbreviated
forms of deduction (enthymemes) and induction (examples).
The second source is the orators / poets vehement and inspired passion (79),
that is, a great emotional capacity (pathos) which he is able to transfer to his audience.
Longinus is at pains to argue that sublimity and passion (79) are not a unity (79)
because some passions are found which are far removed from sublimity and are of a low
order, such as pity, grief and fear (79). However, it would be wrong, he argues, to
believe that passion never contributes at all to sublimity (79): there is no tone so lofty
as that of genuine passion, in its right place, when it bursts out in a mad enthusiasm and
as it were fills the speakers words with frenzy (79).
Though Longinus does not mention it here, he does discuss the importance of the
orators / poets ethos in chapter XLIV. Moral character might very well function as one
more source of the sublime (for a total of six) but Longinus does not explicitly draw the

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

connection between sublime discourse and sound character.

The other three sources of the sublime are at least partly the product of art (79)
in that they are learned by the poet in the course of his general education and, in
particular, through his exposure to prior examples of sublime writing offered by great
precursors (i.e. they are a function of nurture). The first two of these fall under the rubric
of what rhetoricians term style. The third source of the sublime consists in the due
formation of figures (79) of which there are two sorts (79): first those of thought and
secondly those of expression (79). In other words, Longinus distinguishes (like
Quintilian) between figures of thought (he later discusses under this rubric amplification
[chapters XI and XII], emulation [chapters XIII and XIV], and vivid visualisation [chapter
XV]) and figures of speech (including questions and interrogations [chapter XVIII], the
absence of connecting links [chapters XIX and XXI], asyndeton, anaphora and diatyposis
[chapter XX], hyperbata [chapter XXII], polyptota [chapter XXIII], transforming the plural
into the singular, and vice versa [chapter XXIV], transforming the past into the present
[chapter XXV], dialogue [chapter XXVI], identification with a character [chapter XXVII],
and periphrasis [chapters XXVIII and XXIX]). Longinus seems to have in mind, with
regard to figures of speech, the learned use of various rhetorical devices.
The fourth source of the sublime is the use of noble diction (79) which comprises
choice of words, and use of metaphors, and elaboration of language (79). Longinus
seems to have in mind here what Quintilian terms tropes (metaphor, metonymy,
synecdoche, and the like), that is, all the devices by means of which deviation from the
ordinary meaning of a word occurs and for artistic effects. Apart from a brief allusion to
metaphors and similes in chapter XXXVII (there may have been more but part of the
manuscript is missing) and a discussion of hyperbole in chapter XXXVIII, Longinus neither
takes the time to list the various tropes nor define them (perhaps because Quintilian and
the writers of various rhetorical manuals had done so elsewhere). He does, however,
discuss the impact of striking words on the listener in chapter XXX, the importance of
appropriateness in chapter XXXI, the amount of figurative language which should be
employed in Chapter XXXII, the importance of avoiding too much concision of expression
(chapter XLII) and triviality of expression (chapter XLIII).
The fifth source of the sublime is the use of dignified and elevated composition
(79) which is, he asserts, the fitting conclusion of all that have preceded it (79). This
falls under the rubric of what rhetoricians term arrangement in general and, in the case of
poetry, metre. In chapter XXXIX, Longinus discusses the effect which proper
arrangement has on the listener, the contribution of organic unity in chapter XL, and the
dangers of too much rhythm in chapter XLI.
Longinus does not touch on either Memory or Delivery, the two remaining parts of
Chapter IX (The Orators / Poets Logos or Elevation of Mind)
Here, Longinus turns his attention to the first source of the sublime, that is, what he calls
here elevation of mind (79). This, he argues, holds the foremost rank among them all
(79). Although this has more to do with an endowment than with an acquirement (79),
he urges us to nurture our souls . . . to thoughts sublime (79) and to make them always
pregnant . . . with noble inspiration (79). To be truly eloquent (79), one must be free of
low and ignoble thoughts (79), as a result of which it is impossible that men of mean
and servile ideas . . . should produce anything that is admirable and worthy of immortality.
Great accents we expect to fall from the lips of those whose thoughts are deep and grave
(79).

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

Chapter X (The Orators / Poets Pathos or Vehement Passions)

Here, Longinus follows up his discussion of the orators / poets elevated mind with a
consideration of the role played by figures of thought in producing a sublime effect. He
begins by considering whether we can point to anything that contributes to sublimity of
style (81). He contends that there inheres in all things by nature certain constituents
which are part and parcel of their substance (81). It follows, he asserts, that one source
of the sublime (81) is to be found in the systematic selection of the most important
elements, and the power of forming, by their mutual combination, what may be called one
body (81). The former process (81) (i.e. the selection of the elements) attracts the
hearer by the choice of ideas (81) while the latter (i.e. their combination) does so by the
aggregation of those chosen (81). The point which Longinus seems to be making here
is that in the same way that the orator / poet carefully chooses and combines his / her
ideas, so too must this be done with his / her emotions. The lesbian poet Sappho, for
example, chooses the emotions that attend delirious passion (81) and demonstrate[s]
her excellence (81) in the skill with which she selects and binds together the most
vehement of passions (81).
Chapter XI (Figures of Thought 1: Sublimity versus Amplification 1)
Here, Longinus makes a detour (what he later admits is a digression [83]), in order to
compare sublimity with an allied excellence to those already set forth (82),
amplification (82), which is the figure employed when the narrative or the course of a
forensic argument admits, from section to section, of many starting points and many
pauses, and elevated expressions follow, one after the other, in an unbroken succession
and an ascending order (82). This is effected (82) either by the rhetorical treatment
of commonplaces (82), or intensification (whether events or arguments are to be
strongly presented) (82), or the orderly arrangement of facts or passions (82). There
are innumerable kinds of amplification (82) but none of these methods by itself, apart
from sublimity, forms a complete whole (82). If you take away the sublimity, you will as
it were remove the soul from the body (82-83); the vigour (83) of amplification thereby
loses its intensity and its substance when not resting on the firm basis of the sublime
(83). Longinus is at pains to stress that the sublime differs from amplification (83) but
may work in tandem with it to produce effective oratory and literature.
Chapter XII (Figures of Thought 2: Sublimity versus Amplification 2)
Longinus continues here to distinguish between sublimity and amplification. The latter,
according to writers on rhetoric (83) is discourse which invests the subject with
grandeur (83). Where the sublime consists in elevation (83), amplification embraces a
multitude of details (83). As a result, where sublimity is often comprised in a single
thought (83), where amplification is universally associated with a certain magnitude and
abundance (83). In short, amplification is an aggregation of all the constituent parts and
topics of a subject, lending strength to the argument by dwelling upon it (83), and is
differentiated from proof (83) which merely demonstrates the matter under
investigation (83).
Chapter XIII (Figures of Thought 3: Emulation 1)
Here, Longinus addresses another way . . . leads to sublime (83): the imitation and

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

emulation of previous great poets and writers (83).

Chapter XIV (Figures of Thought 4: Emulation 2)
Here, Longinus continues in the same vein as Chapter XIII by advising that we, when
elaborating anything which requires lofty expression and elevated conception, should
shape some idea in our minds as to how perchance Homer would have said this very thing,
or how it would have been raised to the sublime by Plato or Demosthenes or by the
historian Thucydides (84). Such personages presenting themselves to us and inflaming
our ardour and as it were illumining our path, will carry our minds in a mysterious way to
high standards of sublimity (84). We must supplement this by asking ourselves: what
sort of hearing would Homer . . . or Demosthenes have given to this or that when said by
me (84). Such a tribunal and theatre for our own utterances (84) would be a severe
(84) ordeal (84) if we imagine that we are undergoing a scrutiny of our writings before
these great heroes, acting as judges and witnesses (84). Even greater incentive (84) is
added if you ask in what spirit will each succeeding age listen to me who have written
thus (84). If one shrinks from the very thought of uttering aught that may transcend
the term of his own life and time, the conceptions of his mind must necessarily be
incomplete, blind, and . . . untimely born, since they are by no means brought to the
perfection needed to ensure a futurity of fame (84).
Chapter XV (Figures of Thought 5: Vivid Visualisation)
Here, Longinus contends that images . . . contribute greatly to dignity, elevation, and
power as a pleader (84). Some define them in general as mental representations (84):
the name of image or imagination is applied to every idea of the mind, in whatever form it
presents itself, which gives birth to speech (84). However, the word image is
predominantly used in cases where, carried away by enthusiasm and passion, you think
you see what you describe, and you place it before the eyes of your hearers (84). Orators
and poets use images differently: the design of the poetical image is enthrallment, of the
rhetorical vivid description (84). Both uses, though, seek to stir the passions and
emotions (84).
Chapter XVI (Figures of Speech 1)
Here, Longinus turns his attention to figures (86) of speech. His stated intention is to
run over a few only of those which produce of elevation of diction (86). (Clearly, there
seems to be some sort of overlap between figures of speech and tropes.)
Chapter XVII (Figures of Speech 2: Naturalness and Subtlety)
Longinus contends that by a sort of natural law, figures bring support to the sublime
(86) and derive support in turn from it (86). The key is to avoid the cunning use of
figures (86) which is peculiarly subject to suspicion, and produces an impression of
ambush, plot, fallacy (86). Listeners feel resentment (86) as if tricked by the paltry
figures of the oratorical craftsman (86). This can develop into a feeling of personal
affront (86) or even rage (86) to the point where he steels himself utterly against
persuasive words (86). Accordingly, a figure is at its best when the very fact that it is a
figure escapes attention (86). The art which craftily employs them lies hid and escapes
all future suspicion, when once it has been associated with beauty and the sublime (86).

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

Just as all dim lights are extinguished in the blaze of the sun, so do the artifices of rhetoric
fade from view when bathed in the pervading splendour of sublimity (86). This is because
manifestations of passion and the sublime . . . lie nearer to our minds through a sort of
natural kinship and through their own radiance, and always strike our attention before the
figures, whose art they thrown into the shade and as it were keep in concealment (86).
Chapter XVIII (Figures of Speech 3: Questions and Interrogations)
Here, Longinus discusses questions and interrogations (87): just as those who are
interrogated by others experience a sudden excitement and answer the inquiry incisively
and with the utmost candour, so the figure of question and answer leads the hearer to
suppose that each deliberate thought is struck out and uttered on the spur of the moment,
and thus beguiles his reason (87).
Chapter XIX (Figures of Speech 4: the Absence of Connecting Links)
Here, Longinus concerns himself with how the words issue forth without connecting links
and are poured out as it were, almost outstripping the speaker himself (87). The lines
detached from one another, but nonetheless hurried along, produce the impression of an
agitation which interposes obstacles and at the same time adds impetuosity (87) via in
many cases the omission of conjunctions (87).
Chapter XX (Figures of Speech 5: Asyndeton, Anaphora, Diatyposis)
Here, Longinus focuses on the powerful effect (87) which usually attends the union of
figures for a common object, when two or three mingle together as it were in partnership
and contribute a fund of strength, persuasiveness and beauty (87). He cites, for
example, the use of asyndeton, interwoven with instances of anaphora and diatyposis
(87).
Chapter XXI (Figures of Speech 6: Connecting Particles)
Here, Longinus considers connecting particles (87): just as the binding of the limbs of
runners deprives them of their power of rapid motion, so also passion, when shackled by
connecting links and other appendages, chafes at the restriction, for it loses the freedom of
its advance (87).
Chapter XXII (Figures of Speech 7: Hyperbata)
Here, Longinus considers [h]yperbata, or inversions (88) which are departures in the
order of expressions or ideas from the natural sequence (88) which as such bear . . . the
very stamp and impress of vehement emotion (88): just as those who are really moved
by anger, or fear, or indignation, or jealousy, or any emotion . . . at times turn aside, and
when they have taken one thing as their subject often leap to another, foisting in the
midst some irrelevant matter, and then again wheel round to their original theme, and
driven by their vehemence, as by a veering wind, now this way not that with rapid
changes, transform their expressions, their thoughts, the order suggested by a natural
sequence, into numberless variations of every kind; so also among the best writers it is by
means of hyperbaton that imitation approaches the effect of nature (88).

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

Chapter XXIII (Figures of Speech 8: Polyptota)

Here, Longinus mentions polyptota acumulations, and variations, and climaxes (88)
such as changes of cases, tenses, persons, numbers, genders (88), which are excellent
weapons of public oratory . . . and contribute to elegance and to every form of sublimity
and passion (88).
Chapter XXIV
(Figures of Speech 9: Transforming the Plural into the Singular, and Vice Versa)
Here, Longinus examines particulars which are combined from the plural into the
singular (88) as a way of making discourses most elevated in appearance (89). Where
the words are singular, to make them plural is the mark of unlooked-for passion; and
where they are plural, the rounding of a number of things into a fine-sounding singular is
surprising (89).
Chapter XXV (Figures of Speech 10: Transforming the Past into the Present)
Here, Longinus considers the introduction of things which are past as present and now
taking place (89) as a means of making your story no longer a narration but an actuality
(89).
Chapter XXVI (Figures of Speech 11: Dialogue)
Here, Longinus considers the interchange of persons (89) (i.e. dialogue) in order to
produce a vivid impression (89) and to make the hearer feel that he is moving in the
midst of perils (89).
Chapter XXVII (Figures of Speech 12: Identification with a Character)
Longinus expands upon his discussion in the previous chapter by discussing how a
writer, when relating something about a person, suddenly breaks off and converts himself
into that selfsame person (89). This species of figure (89) is a kind of outburst of
passion (89).
Chapter XXVIII (Figures of Speech 13: Periphrasis I)
Here, Longinus considers how periphrasis contributes to the sublime (90): just as in
music the so-called accompaniments bring out the charm of the melody, so also
periphrasis often harmonises with the normal expression and adds greatly to its beauty
(90).
Chapter XXIX (Figures of Speech 14: Periphrasis II)
Longinus warns that periphrasis, discussed in the previous chapter, is a hazardous
business . . . unless it be handled with discrimination; otherwise it speedily falls flat, with
its odor of empty talk and its swelling amplitude (90).
Chapter XXX (Diction 1)

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

Here, arguing that in discourse, thought and diction are for the most part developed one
through the other (91), Longinus wants to consider any branches of the subject of
diction which have so far been neglected (91). He argues that the choice of proper and
striking words wonderfully attracts and enthralls the hearer (91): this is the leading
ambition of all orators and writers (91) since it is the direct agency which ensures the
presence in writings . . . of the perfection of grandeur, beauty, mellowness, dignity, force,
power, and any other high qualities there may be, and breathes into dead things a kind of
living voice (91). He argues that beautiful words are in very truth the peculiar light of
thought (91). He cautions, however, that stately language is not to be used everywhere,
since to invest petty affairs with great and high-sounding names (91) would be
inappropriate.
Chapter XXXI (Diction 2: Appropriateness)
Here, Longinus considers examples of appropriate and inappropriate diction.
Chapter XXXII (Diction 3: the Amount of Figurative Language to be Employed)
Here, Longinus turns his attention to the number of metaphors to be employed (91).
He says there are no limits and cites Demosthenes in this respect for whom the proper
time for using metaphors is when the passions roll like a torrent and sweep a multitude of
them down their resistless flood (91). He stresses that figurative language possesses
great natural power (92), that metaphors contribute to the sublime (92), and that it is
impassioned and descriptive passages which rejoice in them to the greatest extent (92).
However, he warns that the use of tropes, like all other beauties of expression, is apt to
lead to excess (92).
Chapter XXXIII (Defining the Sublime 7: Mere Accuracy vs. Divine Sublimity 1)
Longinus considers here whether we ought to give the preference, in poems and prose
writings, to grandeur with some attendant faults, or to success which is moderate but
altogether sound and free from error (92). He believes that lofty genius is far removed
from flawlessness (92): low and average natures remain as a rule free from failing and in
greater safety because they never run a risk or seek to scale the heights (92). Moreover,
the worse side of human character is always the more easily recognised, and that the
memory of errors remains indelible, while that of excellences quickly dies away (92).
Homer and other greats are far from perfect but they are not guilty of wilful errors (92)
but of oversights of a random and casual kind, due to neglect and introduced with all the
heedlessness of genius (92). For this reason, he argues that excellences higher in
quality, even if not sustained throughout, should always on comparison be voted the first
place, because of the sheer elevation of spirit if for no other reason (92).
Chapter XXXIV
(Defining the Sublime 8: Mere Accuracy vs. Divine Sublimity 2:
Hyperides versus Demosthenes)
Here, Longinus compares the respective works of Hyperides and Demosthenes. The
former are the staid utterances of a sober-hearted man (93) that leave the hearer
unmoved, no one feeling terror when he reads Hyperides (93). By contrast, Demosthenes
draws as from a store excellences allied to the highest sublimity and perfected to the

Richard L. W. Clarke LITS2306 Notes 06B

10

utmost, the tone of lofty speech, living passions, copiousness, readiness, speed (where it is
legitimate) and that power and vehemence . . . which forbid reproach (93). Equipped
with such heaven-sent and mighty gifts (93)and noble qualities (93), Demosthenes
routs all comers (93) and overpowers with thunder and with lightning the orators of
every age (93): one could sooner face with unflinching eyes a descending thunderbolt
than meet with steady gaze and his bursts of passion in their swift succession (93).
Chapter XXXV
(Defining the Sublime 9: Mere Accuracy vs. Divine Sublimity 3: Lysias vs. Plato)
Here, Longinus compares the respective talents of Plato and Lysias, arguing that such
superhuman writers (93) aimed at everything that was highest in composition (93)
rather than an all-pervading accuracy (93). Longinus argues that such writers are
aware that Nature has appointed men to be no base or ignoble animals (93) but to be
spectators of the mighty whole (93) and, to this end, implants in our souls the
unconquerable love of whatever is elevated and more divine than we (93). This is why
not even the entire universe suffices for the thought and contemplation within reach of
the human mind (93) because our imaginations often pass beyond the bounds of space
(93). If we survey life on every side (93), we note how much more it everywhere
abounds in what is striking, and great, and beautiful (93) and quickly discern the
purpose of our birth (93). This is why, out of a sort of natural impulse, we admire not
the small streams . . . but the Nile, the Danube or the Rhine, and still more the ocean
(93), why we do not regard with greater awe (93) a tiny flame of our own kindling (93)
than the celestial fires (93), even though stars are often shrouded in darkness (93-94),
or the craters of Etna, whose eruptions throw up stones from its depths and great masses
of rock, and at times pour forth rivers of that pure and unmixed subterranean fire (94).
For, in all such matters (94), what is useful or necessary men regard as commonplace,
while they reserve their admiration for that which is astounding (94).
Chapter XXXVI (Defining the Sublime 10: Mere Accuracy vs. Divine Sublimity 4)
Here, Longinus turns his focus back to the manifestations of the sublime in literature
(94) where grandeur is never . . . found apart from utility and advantage (94). He
argues that though writers of this magnitude (94) are far removed from faultlessness
(94), they nonetheless all rise above what is mortal (94): all other qualities prove their
possessors to be men, but sublimity raises them near the majesty of God;. . . while
immunity from errors relieves from censure, it is greatness that excites admiration as well
(94). Longinus stresses that each of these supreme authors often redeems all his
mistakes by a single sublime and happy touch (94). The blunders of Homer,
Demosthenes, Plato and all the rest of the greatest writers . . . would be found to be a
very small part (94), an infinitesimal fraction (94), of the triumphs which those heroes
achieve on every hand (94). This is why the judgment of all posterity (94) has offered
those meeds of victory which up to this day it guards intact and seems likely still to
preserve (94). Where in art the utmost exactitude is admired (94), it is grandeur (94)
which is respected in works of nature (94). Given that it is by nature that man is a
being gifted with speech (94), in discourse we demand . . . that which transcends the
human (94), whereas in statues likeness to man is the quality required (94).
Nevertheless, since freedom from failings is for the most part the successful result of art,
and excellence (though it may be unevenly sustained) the result of sublimity (94), the
employment of art is in every way a fitting aid to nature (94) for the simple reason that

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it is the conjunction of the two which tends to ensure perfection (94).

Chapter XXXVII
(Diction 4: Metaphors, Similes and Other Forms of Comparison)
Here, Longinus only briefly links metaphors to similes. [What else he writes in this
chapter is unknown because this part of the manuscript is missing].
Chapter XXXVIII (Diction 5: Hyperbole)
Here, Longinus mentions several examples of hyperbole (94), though once more part of
the manuscript is missing. He concludes by stating that hyperboles are employed in
describing things small as well as great, since exaggeration is the common element in both
cases (95), ridicule (95) being an amplification of the paltriness of things (95).
Chapter XXXIX (Composition 1: Arrangement of Words in a Certain Order)
Here, Longinus returns to the question of word order and explains what exactly he meant
earlier by the phrase dignified and elevated composition. This he equates with the
arrangement of the words in a certain order (95), a topic which he says he tackled in two
previous treatises. He argues that harmonious arrangement is not only a natural source
of persuasion and pleasure among men but also a wonderful instrument of lofty utterance
and of passion (95). Longinus argues that composition (95) is a harmony of . . .
language . . . implanted by nature in man and that it appeals not to the hearing only but
to the soul itself (95) by calling forth manifold shapes of words, thoughts, deeds, beauty,
melody (95), each of which is born at our birth and growing with our growth (95).
Through the blending and variation of its own tones (95), composition seeks to
introduce into the minds of those who are present the emotion which affects the speaker
(95) and brings the audience to share in it (95). By the building of phrase upon phrase
(95), composition raises a sublime and harmonious structure (95). The harmony created
in this way allures us and invariably disposes us to stateliness and dignity and elevation
and every emotion which it contains within itself, gaining absolute mastery over our
minds (95). All this is generally admitted (95) because experience is proof sufficient
(95).
Chapter XL (Composition 2: Organic Unity)
Longinus contends here that one of the chief causes of the sublime in speech (95),:
as in the structure of the human body, is the collocation of members, a
single one of which if severed from another possesses in itself nothing
remarkable, but all united together make a full and perfect organism. So the
constituents of grandeur, when separated from one another, carry with them
sublimity . . . but when formed into a body by association and when further
encircled in a chain of harmony they become sonorous by their very
rotundity. (95-96)
Many writers who possess no natural sublimity (96) and who make use of for the most
part common and poplar words with no striking associations of their own, by merely joining
and fitting these together, secured dignity and distinction and the appearance of freedom
from meanness (96).

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Chapter XLI (Composition 3: Overrhythmical Writing)

Here, Longinus argues that one factor which militates against sublimity is broken and
agitated movement of language (96), causing some forms of poetry to fall altogether to
the level of dance music (96). What Longinus calls overrhythmical writing (96) is felt
to be affected and finical and wholly lacking in passion owing to the monotony of its
superficial polish (96). Similarly, those words are destitute of sublimity which lie too
close together, and are cut up into short and tiny syllables, and are held together as if with
wooden bolts by sheer inequality and ruggedness (96).
Chapter XLII (Diction 6: Concision of Expression)
Another factor which tends to lower the sublime (96) is excessive concision of
expression (96). This is because grandeur is marred when the thought is brought into
too narrow a compass (96). By concision, Longinus means not proper compression
(96) but rather what is absolutely petty and cut into segments (96): where concision
curtails the sense (96), brevity goes straight to the mark (96). BY the opposite token,
prolixities are frigid (96) because the result is unreasonable length (96).
Chapter XLIII (Diction 7: Triviality of Expression)
Here, Longinus cites triviality of expression (96) (the use of words below the dignity of
the subject [96]), as another factor apt to disfigure sublimity (96). Longinus argues
that in
lofty passages we ought not to descend to sordid and contemptible language
unless constrained by some overpowering necessity, but it is fitting that we
should use words worthy of the subject and imitate nature, the artificer of
man, for she has not placed in full view our grosser parts or the means of
purging our frame, but has hidden them away as far as was possible. (97)
Longinus concludes that since we have previously indicated those qualities which render
style noble and lofty, it is evident that their opposites will for the most part make it low
and base (97).
Chapter XLIV (The Orators / Poets Ethos or Morality)
Here, Longinus concludes his treatise by turning to the question of ethics: he repeats the
recent question (97) of a certain philosopher (97) who wonders how it happens that in
our time there are men who have the gift of persuasion to the utmost extent, and are well
fitted for public life, and are keen and ready, and particularly rich in all the charms of
language (97) but yet there longer arise really lofty and transcendent natures unless
quite exceptionally (97). In short, a great and worldwide dearth of high utterance
attends our age (97). Is the explanation (97), this philosopher wonders, that
democracy is the kind nursing-mother of genius (97), for which reason literary power
may be said to share its rise and fall with . . . democracy alone (97). This is because
freedom . . . has the power to feed the imaginations of the lofty-minded and to inspire
hope (97). Wherever it prevails, there spreads abroad the eagerness of mutual rivalry
and the emulous pursuit of the foremost place (97). Through the competitions
encouraged in such milieus, the mental excellences of the orator are continually exercised
and sharpened, and as it were rubbed bright, and shine forth . . . with all the freedom
which inspires the doings of the state (97). However, we seem to have learned instead

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the lessons of a righteous servitude, being all but enswathed in its customs and
observances (97) and never tasting the fairest and most productive source of eloquence
(97), to wit, freedom (97). We are at best sublime flatters (97). This is why no slave
ever becomes an orator (97): the slave manifests only signs of fettered liberty of speech,
of the dungeon as it were, of a man habituated to buffetings (97). All servitude (98) is
the cage of the soul and a public prison-house (98).
Longinus replies that it is easy, . . . and characteristic of human nature, to find
fault with ones own age (98). He argues that it is less the worlds peace that ruins great
natures (98) than the war illimitable which holds our desires in its grasp (98) and those
passions which occupy as with troops our present age and utterly harry and plunder it
(98) and drown[s] us body and soul in the depths (98). These include the love of
money (98) which makes men petty (98) and the love of pleasure (98) which makes
them most ignoble (98). The former makes us allow into our souls . . . the evils which
are inseparable from it (98): extravagance (98) and its offspring ostentation and
vanity, and luxury (98). These children of wealth (98), if permitted to come to
maturity (98), beget in the soul inexorable masters insolence, and lawlessness, and
shamelessness (98). In this way, the ruin of such lives will gradually reach its complete
consummation and sublimities of soul fade and wither away and become contemptible
(98) when men are lost in admiration of their own mortal parts and omit to exalt that
which is immortal (98). No one who has accepted a bribe for a judicial decision (98) can
perforce be an unbiased and upright judge of what is just and honourable (98). The
same is true of an entire life . . . ordered by bribes, and huntings after the death of
others, and the laying of ambushes for legacies (98), We are the slaves of pleasure (98)
and the gain from any and every source we purchase (98) is at the price of life itself
(98). We are all influenced by the passion for gain (98) for which reason in an age . . .
ravaged by plagues so sore (98), there is unlikely to be left an unbiased and
incorruptible judge of works (98). This is why it is perhaps better for men like ourselves
to be ruled rather than to be free, since our appetites, if let loose without restraint upon
our neighbours like beasts from a cage, would set the world on fire with deeds of evil
(98). In short, that half-heartedness in which the life of all of us with few exceptions is
passed (98) is one of the banes of the natures which our age produces (98): we do not
labour or exert ourselves except for the sake of praise and pleasure (98) rather than
those solid benefits which are a worthy object of our own efforts and the respect of
others (98).
Longinus concludes the treatise by shifting topic from these riddles unresolved (98)
concerning the orators / poets morality (ethos) back to the subject of the passions
[pathos], about which I previously undertook to write in a separate treatise (98) and
which forms a material part of discourse generally and of the sublime itself (98). At this
point the manuscript breaks off. . . .