Complete Works of Tacitus (Delphi Classics) (Delphi Ancient Classics Book 24)

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Complete Works of Tacitus (Delphi Classics) (Delphi Ancient Classics Book 24) Page 167

by Publius Cornelius Tacitus


  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 , 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 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 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. Such is the advantage of oratory: to enlarge upon it were superfluous. My friend Maternus will not dispute the point.

  [6] Ad voluptatem oratoriae eloquentiae transeo, cuius iucunditas non uno aliquo momento, sed omnibus prope diebus ac prope omnibus horis contingit. Quid enim dulcius libero et ingenuo animo et ad voluptates honestas nato quam videre plenam semper et frequentem domum suam concursu splendidissimorum hominum? idque scire non pecuniae, non orbitati, non officii alicuius administrationi, sed sibi ipsi dari? ipsos quin immo orbos et locupletes et potentis venire plerumque ad iuvenem et pauperem, ut aut sua aut amicorum discrimina commendent. ullane tanta ingentium opum ac magnae potentiae voluptas quam spectare homines veteres et senes et totius orbis gratia subnixos in summa rerum omnium abundantia confitentis, id quod optimum sit se non habere? iam vero qui togatorum comitatus et egressus! Quae in publico species! Quae in iudiciis veneratio! Quod illud gaudium consurgendi adsistendique inter tacentis et in unum conversos! coire populum et circumfundi coram et accipere adfectum, quemcumque orator induerit! vulgata dicentium gaudia et imperitorum quoque oculis exposita percenseo: illa secretiora et tantum ipsis orantibus nota maiora sunt. Sive accuratam meditatamque profert orationem, est quoddam sicut ipsius dictionis, ita gaudii pondus et constantia; sive novam et recentem curam non sine aliqua trepidatione animi attulerit, ipsa sollicitudo commendat eventum et lenocinatur voluptati. Sed extemporalis audaciae atque ipsius temeritatis vel praecipua iucunditas est; nam [in] ingenio quoque, sicut in agro, quamquam [grata sint quae] diu serantur atque elaborentur, gratiora tamen quae sua sponte nascuntur.

  VI. I proceed to the pleasure arising from the exercise of eloquence; a pleasure which does not consist in the mere sensation of the moment, but is felt through life, repeated every day, and almost every hour. For let me ask, to a man of an ingenuous and liberal mind, who knows the relish of elegant enjoyments, what can yield such true delight, as a concourse of the most respectable characters crowding to his levee? How must it enhance his pleasure, when he reflects, that the visit is not paid to him because he is rich, and wants an heir , or is in possession of a public office, but purely as a compliment to superior talents, a mark of respect to a great and accomplished orator! The rich who have no issue, and the men in high rank and power, are his followers. Though he is still young, and probably destitute of fortune, all concur in paying their court to solicit his patronage for themselves, or to recommend their friends to his protection. In the most splendid fortune, in all the dignity and pride of power, is there any thing that can equal the heartfelt satisfaction of the able advocate, when he sees the most illustrious citizens, men respected for their years, and flourishing in the opinion of the public, yet paying their court to a rising genius, and, in the midst of wealth and grandeur, fairly owning, that they still want something superior to all their possessions? What shall be said of the attendants, that follow the young orator from the bar, and watch his motions to his own house? With what importance does he appear to the multitude! in the courts of judicature, with what veneration! When he rises to speak, the audience is hushed in mute attention; every eye is fixed on him alone; the crowd presses round him; he is master of their passions; they are swayed, impelled, directed, as he thinks proper. These are the fruits of eloquence, well known to all, and palpable to every common observer. There are other pleasures more refined and secret, felt only by the initiated. When the orator, upon some great occasion, comes with a well-digested speech, conscious of his matter, and animated by his subject, his breast expands, and heaves with emotions unfelt before. In his joy there is a dignity suited to the weight and energy of the composition which he has prepared. Does he rise to hazard himself in a sudden debate; he is alarmed for himself, but in that very alarm there is a mingle of pleasure, which predominates, till distress itself becomes delightful. The mind exults in the prompt exertion of its powers, and even glories in its rashness. The productions of genius, and those of the field, have this resemblance: many things are sown, and brought to maturity with toil and care; yet that, which grows from the wild vigour of nature, has the most grateful flavour.

  [7] Equidem, ut de me ipso fatear, non eum diem laetiorem egi, quo mihi latus clavus oblatus est, vel quo homo novus et in civitate minime favorabili natus quaesturam aut tribunatum aut praeturam accepi, quam eos, quibus mihi pro mediocritate huius quantulaecumque in dicendo facultatis aut reum prospere defendere aut apud centumviros causam aliquam feliciter orare aut apud principem ipsos illos libertos et procuratores principum tueri et defendere datur. tum mihi supra tribunatus et praeturas et consulatus ascendere videor, tum habere quod, si non [ultro] oritur, nec codicillis datur nec cum gratia venit. Quid? fama et laus cuius artis cum oratorum gloria comparanda est? Quid? Non inlustres sunt in urbe non solum apud negotiosos et rebus intentos, sed etiam apud iuvenes vacuos et adulescentis, quibus modo recta indoles est et bona spes sui? Quorum nomina prius parentes liberis suis ingerunt? Quos saepius vulgus quoque imperitum et tunicatus hic populus transeuntis nomine vocat et digito demonstrat? Advenae quoque et peregrini iam in municipiis et coloniis suis auditos, cum primum urbem attigerunt, requirunt ac velut adgnoscere concupiscunt.

  VII. As to myself, if I may allude to my own feelings, the day on which I put on the manly gown
, and even the days that followed, when, as a new man at Rome, born in a city that did not favour my pretensions , I rose in succession to the offices of quæstor, tribune, and prætor; those days, I say, did not awaken in my breast such exalted rapture, as when, in the course of my profession, I was called forth, with such talents as have fallen to my share, to defend the accused; to argue a question of law before the centumviri , or, in the presence of the prince, to plead for his freedmen, and the procurators appointed by himself. Upon those occasions I towered above all places of profit, and all preferment; I looked down on the dignities of tribune, prætor, and consul; I felt within myself, what neither the favour of the great, nor the wills and codicils of the rich, can give, a vigour of mind, an inward energy, that springs from no external cause, but is altogether your own. Look through the circle of the fine arts, survey the whole compass of the sciences, and tell me in what branch can the professors acquire a name to vie with the celebrity of a great and powerful orator. His fame does not depend on the opinion of thinking men, who attend to business and watch the administration of affairs; he is applauded by the youth of Rome, at least by such of them as are of a well-turned disposition, and hope to rise by honourable means. The eminent orator is the model which every parent recommends to his children. Even the common people stand at gaze, as he passes by; they pronounce his name with pleasure, and point at him as the object of their admiration. The provinces resound with his praise. The strangers, who arrive from all parts, have heard of his genius; they wish to behold the man, and their curiosity is never at rest, till they have seen his person, and perused his countenance.

  [8] Ausim contendere Marcellum hunc Eprium, de quo modo locutus sum, et Crispum Vibium (libentius enim novis et recentibus quam remotis et oblitteratis exemplis utor) non minores esse in extremis partibus terrarum quam Capuae aut Vercellis, ubi nati dicuntur. Nec hoc illis alterius [bis alterius] ter milies sestertium praestat, quamquam ad has ipsas opes possunt videri eloquentiae beneficio venisse, [sed] ipsa eloquentia; cuius numen et caelestis vis multa quidem omnibus saeculis exempla edidit, ad quam usque fortunam homines ingenii viribus pervenerint, sed haec, ut supra dixi, proxima et quae non auditu cognoscenda, sed oculis spectanda haberemus. Nam quo sordidius et abiectius nati sunt quoque notabilior paupertas et angustiae rerum nascentis eos circumsteterunt, eo clariora et ad demonstrandam oratoriae eloquentiae utilitatem inlustriora exempla sunt, quod sine commendatione natalium, sine substantia facultatum, neuter moribus egregius, alter habitu quoque corporis contemptus, per multos iam annos potentissimi sunt civitatis ac, donec libuit, principes fori, nunc principes in Caesaris amicitia agunt feruntque cuncta atque ab ipso principe cum quadam reverentia diliguntur, quia Vespasianus, venerabilis senex et patientissimus veri, bene intellegit [et] ceteros quidem amicos suos iis niti, quae ab ipso acceperint quaeque ipsis accumulare et in alios congerere promptum sit, Marcellum autem et Crispum attulisse ad amicitiam suam quod non a principe acceperint nec accipi possit. Ninimum inter tot ac tanta locum obtinent imagines ac tituli et statuae, quae neque ipsa tamen negleguntur, tam hercule quam divitiae et opes, quas facilius invenies qui vituperet quam qui fastidiat. His igitur et honoribus et ornamentis et facultatibus refertas domos eorum videmus, qui se ab ineunte adulescentia causis forensibus et oratorio studio dederunt.

  VIII. I have already mentioned Eprius Marcellus and Crispus Vibius . I cite living examples, in preference to the names of a former day. Those two illustrious persons, I will be bold to say, are not less known in the remotest parts of the empire, than they are at Capua, or Vercellæ , where, we are told, they both were born. And to what is their extensive fame to be attributed? Not surely to their immoderate riches. Three hundred thousand sesterces cannot give the fame of genius. Their eloquence may be said to have built up their fortunes; and, indeed, such is the power, I might say the inspiration, of eloquence, that in every age we have examples of men, who by their talents raised themselves to the summit of their ambition. But I waive all former instances. The two, whom I have mentioned, are not recorded in history, nor are we to glean an imperfect knowledge of them from tradition; they are every day before our eyes. They have risen from low beginnings; but the more abject their origin, and the more sordid the poverty, in which they set out, their success rises in proportion, and affords a striking proof of what I have advanced; since it is apparent, that, without birth or fortune, neither of them recommended by his moral character, and one of them deformed in his person, they have, notwithstanding all disadvantages, made themselves, for a series of years, the first men in the state. They began their career in the forum, and, as long as they chose to pursue that road of ambition, they flourished in the highest reputation; they are now at the head of the commonwealth, the ministers who direct and govern, and so high in favour with the prince, that the respect, with which he receives them, is little short of veneration. The truth is, Vespasian , now in the vale of years, but always open to the voice of truth, clearly sees that the rest of his favourites derive all their lustre from the favours, which his munificence has bestowed; but with Marcellus and Crispus the case is different: they carry into the cabinet, what no prince can give, and no subject can receive. Compared with the advantages which those men possess, what are family-pictures, statues, busts, and titles of honour? They are things of a perishable nature, yet not without their value. Marcellus and Vibius know how to estimate them, as they do wealth and honours; and wealth and honours are advantages against which you will easily find men that declaim, but none that in their hearts despise them. Hence it is, that in the houses of all who have distinguished themselves in the career of eloquence, we see titles, statues, and splendid ornaments, the reward of talents, and, at all times, the decorations of the great and powerful orator.

  [9] Nam carmina et versus, quibus totam vitam Maternus insumere optat (inde enim omnis fluxit oratio), neque dignitatem ullam auctoribus suis conciliant neque utilitates alunt; voluptatem autem brevem, laudem inanem et infructuosam consequuntur. licet haec ipsa et quae deinceps dicturus sum aures tuae, Materne, respuant, cui bono est, si apud te Agamemnon aut Iason diserte loquitur? Quis ideo domum defensus et tibi obligatus redit? Quis Saleium nostrum, egregium poetam vel, si hoc honorificentius est, praeclarissimum vatem, deducit aut salutat aut prosequitur? Nempe si amicus eius, si propinquus, si denique ipse in aliquod negotium inciderit, ad hunc Secundum recurret aut ad te, Materne, non quia poeta es, neque ut pro eo versus facias; hi enim Basso domi nascuntur, pulchri quidem et iucundi, quorum tamen hic exitus est, ut cum toto anno, per omnes dies, magna noctium parte unum librum excudit et elucubravit, rogare ultro et ambire cogatur, ut sint qui dignentur audire, et ne id quidem gratis; nam et domum mutuatur et auditorium exstruit et subsellia conducit et libellos dispergit. Et ut beatissimus recitationem eius eventus prosequatur, omnis illa laus intra unum aut alterum diem, velut in herba vel flore praecerpta, ad nullam certam et solidam pervenit frugem, nec aut amicitiam inde refert aut clientelam aut mansurum in animo cuiusquam beneficium, sed clamorem vagum et voces inanis et gaudium volucre. laudavimus nuper ut miram et eximiam Vespasiani liberalitatem, quod quingenta sestertia Basso donasset. pulchrum id quidem, indulgentiam principis ingenio mereri: quanto tamen pulchrius, si ita res familiaris exigat, se ipsum colere, suum genium propitiare, suam experiri liberalitatem! adice quod poetis, si modo dignum aliquid elaborare et efficere velint, relinquenda conversatio amicorum et iucunditas urbis, deserenda cetera officia utque ipsi dicunt, in nemora et lucos, id est in solitudinem secedendum est.

  IX. But to come to the point, from which we started: poetry, to which my friend Maternus wishes to dedicate all his time, has none of these advantages. It confers no dignity, nor does it serve any useful purpose. It is attended with some pleasure, but it is the pleasure of a moment, springing from vain applause, and bringing with it no solid advantage. What I have said, and am going to add, may probably, my good friend Maternus, be unwelcome to your ear; and yet I must take the liberty to ask you, if Agamemnon or Jason speaks in your piece with dignity
of language, what useful consequence follows from it? What client has been defended? Who confesses an obligation? In that whole audience, who returns to his own house with a grateful heart? Our friend Saleius Bassus is, beyond all question, a poet of eminence, or, to use a warmer expression, he has the god within him: but who attends his levee? who seeks his patronage, or follows in his train? Should he himself, or his intimate friend, or his near relation, happen to be involved in a troublesome litigation, what course do you imagine he would take? He would, most probably, apply to his friend, Secundus; or to you, Maternus; not because you are a poet, nor yet to obtain a copy of verses from you; of those he has a sufficient stock at home, elegant, it must be owned, and exquisite in the kind. But after all his labour and waste of genius, what is his reward? When in the course of a year, after toiling day and night, he has brought a single poem to perfection, he is obliged to solicit his friends and exert his interest, in order to bring together an audience , so obliging as to hear a recital of the piece. Nor can this be done without expence. A room must be hired, a stage or pulpit must be erected; benches must be arranged, and hand-bills distributed throughout the city. What if the reading succeeds to the height of his wishes? Pass but a day or two, and the whole harvest of praise and admiration fades away, like a flower that withers in its bloom, and never ripens into fruit. By the event, however flattering, he gains no friend, he obtains no patronage, nor does a single person go away impressed with the idea of an obligation conferred upon him. The poet has been heard with applause; he has been received with acclamations; and he has enjoyed a short-lived transport. Bassus, it is true, has lately received from Vespasian a present of fifty thousand sesterces. Upon that occasion, we all admired the generosity of the prince. To deserve so distinguished a proof of the sovereign’s esteem is, no doubt, highly honourable; but is it not still more honourable, if your circumstances require it, to serve yourself by your talents? to cultivate your genius, for your own advantage? and to owe every thing to your own industry, indebted to the bounty of no man whatever? It must not be forgotten, that the poet, who would produce any thing truly excellent in the kind, must bid farewell to the conversation of his friends; he must renounce, not only the pleasures of Rome, but also the duties of social life; he must retire from the world; as the poets say, “to groves and grottos every muse’s son.” In other words, he must condemn himself to a sequestered life in the gloom of solitude.

 

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