No More Learning

As for Secundus, he
has been long a shining ornament of the forum, and by his own
experience knows how to distinguish genuine eloquence from the corrupt
and vicious. Maternus heard this sally of his friend's good humour
with a smile. The task, he said, which you have imposed upon us, we
will endeavour to execute. But though I am the interpreter of the
gods, I must notwithstanding request that Secundus may take the lead.
He is master of the subject, and, in questions of this kind,
experience is better than inspiration.


4. Secundus [a] complied with his friend's request. I yield, he said,
the more willingly, as I shall hazard no new opinion, but rather
confirm what has been urged by Messala. It is certain, that, as
painters are formed by painters, and poets by the example of poets, so
the young orator must learn his art from orators only. In the schools
of rhetoricians [b], who think themselves the fountain-head of
eloquence, every thing is false and vitiated. The true principles of
the persuasive art are never known to the professor, or if at any time
there may be found a preceptor of superior genius, can it be expected
that he shall be able to transfuse into the mind of his pupil all his
own conceptions, pure, unmixed, and free from error? The sensibility
of the master, since we have allowed him genius, will be an
impediment: the uniformity of the same dull tedious round will give
him disgust, and the student will turn from it with aversion. And yet
I am inclined to think, that the decay of eloquence would not have
been so rapid, if other causes, more fatal than the corruption of the
schools, had not co-operated. When the worst models became the objects
of imitation, and not only the young men of the age, but even the
whole body of the people, admired the new way of speaking, eloquence
fell at once into that state of degeneracy, from which nothing can
recover it. We, who came afterwards, found ourselves in a hopeless
situation: we were driven to wretched expedients, to forced conceits,
and the glitter of frivolous sentences; we were obliged to hunt after
wit, when we could be no longer eloquent.
By what pernicious examples
this was accomplished, has been explained by our friend Messala.


5. We are none of us strangers to those unhappy times, when Rome,
grown weary of her vast renown in arms, began to think of striking
into new paths of fame, no longer willing to depend on the glory of
our ancestors. The whole power of the state was centred in a single
ruler, and by the policy of the prince, men were taught to think no
more of ancient honour. Invention was on the stretch for novelty, and
all looked for something better than perfection; something rare,
far-fetched, and exquisite. New modes of pleasure were devised. In
that period of luxury and dissipation, when the rage for new
inventions was grown epidemic, Seneca arose. His talents were of a
peculiar sort, acute, refined and polished; but polished to a degree
that made him prefer affectation and wit to truth and nature. The
predominance of his genius was great, and, by consequence, he gave the
mortal stab to all true eloquence [a]. When I say this, let me not be
suspected of that low malignity which would tarnish the fame of a
great character. I admire the man, and the philosopher. The undaunted
firmness with which he braved the tyrant's frown, will do immortal
honour to his memory. But the fact is (and why should I disguise it? ),
the virtues of the writer have undone his country.


6. To bring about this unhappy revolution, no man was so eminently
qualified [a].