No More Learning

Perhaps you are
revising the piece, and, after retrenching certain passages, intend to
send your Cato into the world, I will not say improved, but certainly
less obnoxious. There lies the poem, said Maternus; you may, if you
think proper, peruse it with all its imperfections on its head. If
Cato has omitted any thing, Thyestes [a], at my next reading, shall
atone for all deficiencies. I have formed the fable of a tragedy on
that subject: the plan is warm in my imagination, and, that I may give
my whole time to it, I now am eager to dispatch an edition of Cato.
Marcus Aper interposed: And are you, indeed, so enamoured of your
dramatic muse, as to renounce your oratorical character, and the
honours of your profession, in order to sacrifice your time, I think
it was lately to Medea, and now to Thyestes? Your friends, in the mean
time, expect your patronage; the colonies [b] invoke your aid, and the
municipal cities invite you to the bar. And surely the weight of so
many causes may be deemed sufficient, without this new solicitude
imposed upon you by Domitius [c] or Cato. And must you thus waste all
your time, amusing yourself for ever with scenes of fictitious
distress, and still labouring to add to the fables of Greece the
incidents and characters of the Roman story?


IV. The sharpness of that reproof, replied Maternus, would, perhaps,
have disconcerted me, if, by frequent repetition, it had not lost its
sting. To differ on this subject is grown familiar to us both. Poetry,
it seems, is to expect no quarter: you wage an incessant war against
the followers of that pleasing art; and I, who am charged with
deserting my clients, have yet every day the cause of poetry to
defend. But we have now a fair opportunity, and I embrace it with
pleasure, since we have a person present, of ability to decide between
us; a judge, who will either lay me under an injunction to write no
more verses, or, as I rather hope, encourage me, by his authority, to
renounce for ever the dry employment of forensic causes (in which I
have had my share of drudgery), that I may, for the future, be at
leisure to cultivate the sublime and sacred eloquence of the tragic
muse.


V. Secundus desired to be heard: I am aware, he said, that Aper may
refuse me as an umpire.
Before he states his objections, let me follow
the example of all fair and upright judges, who, in particular cases,
when they feel a partiality for one of the contending parties, desire
to be excused from hearing the cause. The friendship and habitual
intercourse, which I have ever cultivated with Saleius Bassus [a],
that excellent man, and no less excellent poet, are well known: and
let me add, if poetry is to be arraigned, I know no client that can
offer such handsome bribes.

My business, replied Aper, is not with Saleius Bassus: let him, and
all of his description, who, without talents for the bar, devote their
time to the muses, pursue their favourite amusement without
interruption. But Maternus must not think to escape in the crowd. I
single him out from the rest, and since we are now before a competent
judge, I call upon him to answer, how it happens, that a man of his
talents, formed by nature to reach the heights of manly eloquence, can
think of renouncing a profession, which not only serves to multiply
friendships, but to support them with reputation: a profession, which
enables us to conciliate the esteem of foreign nations, and (if we
regard our own interest) lays open the road to the first honours of
the state; a profession, which, besides the celebrity that it gives
within the walls of Rome, spreads an illustrious name throughout this
wide extent of the empire.

If it be wisdom to make the ornament and happiness of life the end and
aim of our actions, what can be more advisable than to embrace an art,
by which we are enabled to protect our friends; to defend the cause of
strangers; and succour the distressed? Nor is this all: the eminent
orator is a terror to his enemies: envy and malice tremble, while they
hate him. Secure in his own strength, he knows how to ward off every
danger. His own genius is his protection; a perpetual guard, that
watches him; an invincible power, that shields him from his enemies.

In the calm seasons of life, the true use of oratory consists in the
assistance which it affords to our fellow-citizens. We then behold the
triumph of eloquence. Have we reason to be alarmed for ourselves, the
sword and breast-plate are not a better defence in the heat of battle.
It is at once a buckler to cover yourself [b] and a weapon to brandish
against your enemy. Armed with this, you may appear with courage
before the tribunals of justice, in the senate, and even in the
presence of the prince. We lately saw [c] Eprius Marcellus arraigned
before the fathers: in that moment, when the minds of the whole
assembly were inflamed against him, what had he to oppose to the
vehemence of his enemies, but that nervous eloquence which he
possessed in so eminent a degree? Collected in himself, and looking
terror to his enemies, he was more than a match for Helvidius Priscus;
a man, no doubt, of consummate wisdom, but without that flow of
eloquence, which springs from practice, and that skill in argument,
which is necessary to manage a public debate.