No More Learning

To the disgrace of the age (however astonishing it may
appear), it is the boast, the pride, the glory of our present orators,
that their periods are musical enough either for the dancer's heel
[e], or the warbler's throat. Hence it is, that by a frequent, but
preposterous, metaphor, the orator is said to speak in melodious
cadence, and the dancer to move with expression. In this view of
things, even [f] Cassius Severus (the only modern whom Aper has
ventured to name), if we compare him with the race that followed, may
be fairly pronounced a legitimate orator, though it must be
acknowledged, that in what remains of his compositing, he is clumsy
without strength, and violent without spirit. He was the first that
deviated from the great masters of his art. He despised all method and
regular arrangement; indelicate in his choice of words, he paid no
regard to decency; eager to attack, he left himself unguarded; he
brandished his weapons without skill or address; and, to speak
plainly, he wrangled, but did not argue. And yet, notwithstanding
these defects, he was, as I have already said, superior to all that
came after him, whether we regard the variety of his learning, the
urbanity of his wit, or the vigour of his mind. I expected that Aper,
after naming this orator, would have drawn up the rest of his forces
in regular order. He has fallen, indeed, upon Asinius, Cælius, and
Calvus; but where are his champions to enter the lists with them? I
imagined that he had a phalanx in reserve, and that we should have
seen them man by man giving battle to Cicero, Cæsar, and the rest in
succession. He has singled out some of the ancients, but has brought
none of his moderns into the field. He thought it enough to give them
a good character in their absence. In this, perhaps, he acted with
prudence: he was afraid, if he selected a few, that the rest of the
tribe would take offence. For among the rhetoricians of the present
day, is there one to be found, who does not, in his own opinion, tower
above Cicero, though he has the modesty to yield to Gabinianus [g]?


XXVII. What Aper has omitted, I intend to perform.
I shall produce his
moderns by name, to the end that, by placing the example before our
eyes, we may be able, more distinctly, to trace the steps by which the
vigour of ancient eloquence has fallen to decay. Maternus interrupted
him. I wish, he said, that you would come at once to the point: we
claim your promise. The superiority of the ancients is not in
question. We want no proof of it. Upon that point my opinion is
decided. But the causes of our rapid decline from ancient excellence
remain to be unfolded. We know that you have turned your thoughts to
this subject, and we expected from you a calm disquisition, had not
the violent attack which Aper made upon your favourite orators, roused
your spirit, and, perhaps, given you some offence. Far from it,
replied Messala; he has given me no offence; nor must you, my friends,
take umbrage, if at any time a word should fall from me, not quite
agreeable to your way of thinking. We are engaged in a free enquiry,
and you know, that, in this kind of debate, the established law allows
every man to speak his mind without reserve. That is the law, replied
Maternus; you may proceed in perfect security. When you speak of the
ancients, speak of them with ancient freedom, which, I fear, is at a
lower ebb than even the genius of those eminent men.


XXVIII. Messala resumed his discourse: The causes of the decay of
eloquence are by no means difficult to be traced. They are, I believe,
well known to you, Maternus, and also to Secundus, not excepting my
friend Aper. It seems, however, that I am now, at your request, to
unravel the business.