No More Learning

You have often enquired of me, my good friend, Justus Fabius [a],
how and from what causes it has proceeded, that while ancient times
display a race of great and splendid orators, the present age,
dispirited, and without any claim to the praise of eloquence, has
scarcely retained the name of an orator. By that appellation we now
distinguish none but those who flourished in a former period. To the
eminent of the present day, we give the title of speakers, pleaders,
advocates, patrons, in short, every thing but orators.

The enquiry is in its nature delicate; tending, if we are not able to
contend with antiquity, to impeach our genius, and if we are not
willing, to arraign our judgement. An answer to so nice a question is
more than I should venture to undertake, were I to rely altogether
upon myself: but it happens, that I am able to state the sentiments of
men distinguished by their eloquence, such as it is in modern times;
having, in the early part of my life, been present at their
conversation on the very subject now before us. What I have to offer,
will not be the result of my own thinking: it is the work of memory
only; a mere recital of what fell from the most celebrated orators of
their time: a set of men, who thought with subtilty, and expressed
themselves with energy and precision; each, in his turn, assigning
different but probable causes, at times insisting on the same, and, in
the course of the debate, maintaining his own proper character, and
the peculiar cast of his mind. What they said upon the occasion, I
shall relate, as nearly as may be, in the style and manner of the
several speakers, observing always the regular course and order of the
controversy. For a controversy it certainly was, where the speakers of
the present age did not want an advocate, who supported their cause
with zeal, and, after treating antiquity with sufficient freedom, and
even derision, assigned the palm of eloquence to the practisers of
modern times.


II. Curiatius Maternus [a] gave a public reading of his tragedy of
Cato. On the following day a report prevailed, that the piece had
given umbrage to the men in power. The author, it was said, had
laboured to display his favourite character in the brightest colours;
anxious for the fame of his hero, but regardless of himself. This soon
became the topic of public conversation. Maternus received a visit
from Marcus Aper [b] and Julius Secundus [c], both men of genius, and
the first ornaments of the forum. I was, at that time, a constant
attendant on those eminent men.
I heard them, not only in their scenes
of public business, but, feeling an inclination to the same studies, I
followed them with all the ardour of youthful emulation. I was
admitted to their private parties; I heard their debates, and the
amusement of their social hours: I treasured up their wit, and their
sentiments on the various topics which they had discussed in
conversation. Respected as they were, it must, however, be
acknowledged that they did not escape the malignity of criticism. It
was objected to Secundus, that he had no command of words, no flow of
language; and to Aper, that he was indebted for his fame, not to art
or literature, but to the natural powers of a vigorous understanding.
The truth is, the style of the former was remarkable for its purity;
concise, yet free and copious; and the latter was sufficiently versed
in all branches of general erudition. It might be said of him, that he
despised literature, not that he wanted it. He thought, perhaps, that,
by scorning the aid of letters, and by drawing altogether from his own
fund, his fame would stand on a more solid foundation.


III. We went together to pay our visit to Maternus. Upon entering his
study, we found him with the tragedy, which he had read on the
preceding day, lying before him. Secundus began: And are you then so
little affected by the censure of malignant critics, as to persist in
cherishing a tragedy which has given so much offence? 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?