But as Virgil sweetly sings, Me let the sacred muses lead to
their soft retreats, their living fountains, and melodious groves,
where I may dwell remote from care, master of myself, and under no
necessity of doing every day what my heart condemns.
their soft retreats, their living fountains, and melodious groves,
where I may dwell remote from care, master of myself, and under no
necessity of doing every day what my heart condemns.
Tacitus
He must likewise admit, that the fame of Sophocles and
Euripides is not confined within narrower limits than that of Lysias
[d] or Hyperides. To come home to our own country, there are at this
day more who dispute the excellence of Cicero than of Virgil. Among
the orations of Asinius or Messala [e], is there one that can vie with
the Medea of Ovid, or the Thyestes of Varius?
XIII. If we now consider the happy condition of the true poet, and
that easy commerce in which he passes his time, need we fear to
compare his situation with that of the boasted orator, who leads a
life of anxiety, oppressed by business, and overwhelmed with care? But
it is said, his contention, his toil and danger, are steps to the
consulship. How much more eligible was the soft retreat in which
Virgil [a] passed his days, loved by the prince, and honoured by the
people! To prove this the letters of Augustus are still extant; and
the people, we know, hearing in the theatre some verses of that divine
poet [b], when he himself was present, rose in a body, and paid him
every mark of homage, with a degree of veneration nothing short of
what they usually offered to the emperor.
Even in our own times, will any man say, that Secundus Pomponius [c],
in point of dignity or extent of fame, is inferior to Domitius Afer
[d]? But Vibius and Marcellus have been cited as bright examples: and
yet, in their elevation what is there to be coveted? Is it to be
deemed an advantage to those ministers, that they are feared by
numbers, and live in fear themselves? They are courted for their
favours, and the men, who obtain their suit, retire with ingratitude,
pleased with their success, yet hating to be obliged. Can we suppose
that the man is happy, who by his artifices has wriggled himself into
favour, and yet is never thought by his master sufficiently pliant,
nor by the people sufficiently free? And after all, what is the amount
of all his boasted power? The emperor's freedmen have enjoyed the
same.
But as Virgil sweetly sings, Me let the sacred muses lead to
their soft retreats, their living fountains, and melodious groves,
where I may dwell remote from care, master of myself, and under no
necessity of doing every day what my heart condemns. Let me no more be
seen at the wrangling bar, a pale and anxious candidate for precarious
fame; and let neither the tumult of visitors crowding to my levee, nor
the eager haste of officious freedmen, disturb my morning rest. Let me
live free from solicitude, a stranger to the art of promising legacies
[e], in order to buy the friendship of the great; and when nature
shall give the signal to retire, may I possess no more than may be
safely bequeathed to such friends as I shall think proper. At my
funeral let no token of sorrow be seen, no pompous mockery of woe.
Crown [f] me with chaplets; strew flowers on my grave, and let my
friends erect no vain memorial, to tell where my remains are lodged.
XIV. Maternus finished with an air of enthusiasm, that seemed to lift
him above himself. In that moment [a], Vipstanius Messala entered the
room. From the attention that appeared in every countenance, he
concluded that some important business was the subject of debate. I am
afraid, said he, that I break in upon you at an unseasonable time. You
have some secret to discuss, or, perhaps, a consultation upon your
hands. Far from it, replied Secundus; I wish you had come sooner. You
would have had the pleasure of hearing an eloquent discourse from our
friend Aper, who has been endeavouring to persuade Maternus to
dedicate all his time to the business of the bar, and to give the
whole man to his profession. The answer of Maternus would have
entertained you: he has been defending his art, and but this moment
closed an animated speech, that held more of the poetical than the
oratorical character.
I should have been happy, replied Messala, to have heard both my
friends. It is, however, some compensation for the loss, that I find
men of their talents, instead of giving all their time to the little
subtleties and knotty points of the forum, extending their views to
liberal science, and those questions of taste, which enlarge the mind,
and furnish it with ideas drawn from the treasures of polite
erudition.
Euripides is not confined within narrower limits than that of Lysias
[d] or Hyperides. To come home to our own country, there are at this
day more who dispute the excellence of Cicero than of Virgil. Among
the orations of Asinius or Messala [e], is there one that can vie with
the Medea of Ovid, or the Thyestes of Varius?
XIII. If we now consider the happy condition of the true poet, and
that easy commerce in which he passes his time, need we fear to
compare his situation with that of the boasted orator, who leads a
life of anxiety, oppressed by business, and overwhelmed with care? But
it is said, his contention, his toil and danger, are steps to the
consulship. How much more eligible was the soft retreat in which
Virgil [a] passed his days, loved by the prince, and honoured by the
people! To prove this the letters of Augustus are still extant; and
the people, we know, hearing in the theatre some verses of that divine
poet [b], when he himself was present, rose in a body, and paid him
every mark of homage, with a degree of veneration nothing short of
what they usually offered to the emperor.
Even in our own times, will any man say, that Secundus Pomponius [c],
in point of dignity or extent of fame, is inferior to Domitius Afer
[d]? But Vibius and Marcellus have been cited as bright examples: and
yet, in their elevation what is there to be coveted? Is it to be
deemed an advantage to those ministers, that they are feared by
numbers, and live in fear themselves? They are courted for their
favours, and the men, who obtain their suit, retire with ingratitude,
pleased with their success, yet hating to be obliged. Can we suppose
that the man is happy, who by his artifices has wriggled himself into
favour, and yet is never thought by his master sufficiently pliant,
nor by the people sufficiently free? And after all, what is the amount
of all his boasted power? The emperor's freedmen have enjoyed the
same.
But as Virgil sweetly sings, Me let the sacred muses lead to
their soft retreats, their living fountains, and melodious groves,
where I may dwell remote from care, master of myself, and under no
necessity of doing every day what my heart condemns. Let me no more be
seen at the wrangling bar, a pale and anxious candidate for precarious
fame; and let neither the tumult of visitors crowding to my levee, nor
the eager haste of officious freedmen, disturb my morning rest. Let me
live free from solicitude, a stranger to the art of promising legacies
[e], in order to buy the friendship of the great; and when nature
shall give the signal to retire, may I possess no more than may be
safely bequeathed to such friends as I shall think proper. At my
funeral let no token of sorrow be seen, no pompous mockery of woe.
Crown [f] me with chaplets; strew flowers on my grave, and let my
friends erect no vain memorial, to tell where my remains are lodged.
XIV. Maternus finished with an air of enthusiasm, that seemed to lift
him above himself. In that moment [a], Vipstanius Messala entered the
room. From the attention that appeared in every countenance, he
concluded that some important business was the subject of debate. I am
afraid, said he, that I break in upon you at an unseasonable time. You
have some secret to discuss, or, perhaps, a consultation upon your
hands. Far from it, replied Secundus; I wish you had come sooner. You
would have had the pleasure of hearing an eloquent discourse from our
friend Aper, who has been endeavouring to persuade Maternus to
dedicate all his time to the business of the bar, and to give the
whole man to his profession. The answer of Maternus would have
entertained you: he has been defending his art, and but this moment
closed an animated speech, that held more of the poetical than the
oratorical character.
I should have been happy, replied Messala, to have heard both my
friends. It is, however, some compensation for the loss, that I find
men of their talents, instead of giving all their time to the little
subtleties and knotty points of the forum, extending their views to
liberal science, and those questions of taste, which enlarge the mind,
and furnish it with ideas drawn from the treasures of polite
erudition.
