intricacies of his method of confusing their understanding of the facts?
Or shall a painter who so disposes his objects that some seem to project
from the canvas, others to sink in, be supposed not to know that they
are all drawn on a plain surface?


THE OBJECT OF A SPEECH

It is again objected that "Every art proposes to itself an end; but
rhetoric has no end, or does not put into execution the end it proposes
to itself." This is false, as is shown from what already has been said
concerning the end of rhetoric and in what it consists. The orator will
never fail to obtain this end, for he always will speak well. This
objection, therefore, can affect only those who make persuasion the end
of rhetoric; but our orator, and our definition of art, are not
restricted to events. An orator, indeed, strives to gain his cause; but
suppose he loses it, as long as he has pleaded well he fulfils the
injunctions of his art. A pilot desires to come safe into port, but if a
storm sweeps away his ship, is he, on that account, a less experienced
pilot? His keeping constantly to the helm is sufficient proof that he
was not neglecting his duty. A physician tries to cure a sick person,
but if his remedies are hindered in their operation by either the
violence of the disease, the intemperance of the patient, or some
unforeseen accident, he is not to be blamed, because he has satisfied
all the directions of his art. So it is with the orator, whose end is to
speak well; for it is in the act, and not in the effect, that art
consists, as I shall soon make clear. Therefore, it is false to say that
"Art knows when it has obtained its end, but rhetoric knows nothing of
the matter," as if an orator could be ignorant of his speaking well and
to the purpose.