Letter 2

AUSONIUS TO SYMMACHUS Only now do I understand what a honeyed thing oratory is, how soothing and how persuasive a thing is eloquence. You have persuaded me that the letter of mine delivered to you at Capua was no inhuman botch of composition; but this conviction lasts no longer than while I am reading your letter, which, as I hang open-mouthed over your flatteries, leads me on as though I were anointed with the juice of nectar. For as soon as I set down the little sheet and put the question to myself, then my wormwood returns to my taste, and I detect that the cup is merely smeared round with your honey. But if I go back to your letter again, as I often do, I am enticed once more; and once more that most delightful, that most flowering breath of your speech, when the reading is laid aside, vanishes away, and prevents any weight of evidence from residing in the sweetness. This delights me, like the airy sheen of gold leaf or a painted mist, no longer than while it is seen, after the fashion of that little creature the chameleon, which takes its color from the things beneath it. I feel one thing from your letter, another from my own conscience. And do you dare to deem me worthy of the praise of the most eloquent of men? Do you, I say, say such things to me, you who have set yourself beyond the power of all men to amend? Does anyone shine so brightly that, set beside you, he does not look squalid? Who could come near the charm of Aesop, the sophistic perorations of Isocrates, the enthymemes of Demosthenes [forms of rhetorical argument], the wealth of Tully [Cicero], or the aptness of our own Maro [Virgil]? Who aims at single accomplishments so well as you fill out them all? For what else are you than a perfection gathered out of every genius of the liberal arts? These things, my lord and son Symmachus, I do not fear may seem to be said to you more flatteringly than truly, and you have had proof of it - the same constancy of my mind and of my words - during the time when we were both at court [in comitatu, the imperial entourage], reading together though of unequal age, where you, a raw recruit, earned the rewards of veteran service, while I, already a veteran, was still serving out my recruit's apprenticeship. At court I was truthful with you; far less, then, should you suppose that, away abroad, I am stringing together fictions. At court, I say - which lays bare men's faces but veils their minds - there you felt that I was both a parent and a friend, and, if there is anything dearer than either, dearer still. But let us depart from these matters, lest this recollection of mine seem to draw near to that fear of Sosia's [the timid slave of Plautus and Terence, who dreaded saying too much]. There is that point which I almost passed over: with what affectation you added the request that I send you some little didactic work or some hortatory discourse. Shall I, who still need teaching, teach you - even were I of an age to learn? Or shall I admonish you, who are so brisk and lively? By the same labor I might urge the Muses to sing, and the seas to flow out, and the breezes to keep fresh, and fires to give heat. I shall give my admonition; and, if anything is done by nature even against our will, I shall busy myself as a superfluous instigator. It is mistake enough, this one, that something of mine has been published to my own regret - which by good fortune fell into the hands of friends; for had it turned out the contrary way, not even you could persuade me that I am capable of giving pleasure. Let these be my answers to your letter; the rest, which you are eager to know, I shall make short, for even so the letter is already long. Yet I depute Julian, an intimate of your household, in case you think there is anything to be inquired about concerning me; and at the same time I urge that, when you have recognized the reason for his coming, you aid an endeavor which you have already in part fostered. Farewell.

Now I understand how honey-sweet is the power of speech, how enchanting and persuasive a thing is eloquence! You have made me believe that my letter delivered to you at Capua was not a barbarous compilation; but this only for so long as I am actually reading your letter, which is so spread, as it were, with the syrop of your nectar as to over-persuade me while I hang agape over its allurements. For as soon as I lay down your page and question myself, back comes the taste of my own wormwood, and I realize that the cup is smeared round with your honey.1 If indeed—as I often do— I return to your letter, I am enticed again: and then again that most soothing, that most fragrant perfume of your words dies away when I have done reading, and denies that sweetness carries weight as evidence. Like the flaunting glitter of tinsel or a tinted cloud, it delights me only for so long as 1 see it—like that little creature the chameleon, which takes its colour from whatever is beneath it. Your letter makes me feel one thing, my own conscience another. And do you venture to count me worthy of praise belonging to the most eloquent? Do you, I say, speak so of me—you who soar above all writers in faultlessness? What author is there so brilliant, but he appears unpolished by comparison with you? Who like you can approach the charm of Aesop, the logical deductions of Isocrates, the arguments of Demosthenes, the richness of Tully, or the felicity of our own Maro? Who can aspire to such success in any one of these, as you fully attain in them all? For what else are you but the concentrated essence of every great mind in the realm of the liberal arts? My lord, my son Symmachus, 1 do not fear that you may think I speak thus of you more smoothly than truly. Indeed, yon have proved how truthful I am both in thought and word while the two of us. so ill-matched in years, lived at court, where you. a recruit, earned a veteran's pay, while I, already a veteran, went through my recruit's training. At court I was truthful with you: much less when I am away from it should you think I tell stories. At court, I repeat, which bares the face and veils the heart 1—there you felt that I was a father and a friend and, if anything can be dearer than either, then something dearer still. But let us leave this matter, lest such a reminder seem too like the fear felt by Sosias. 2 Now for that matter which I almost passed over. What mock humility of yours is this, that you add a request for me to send you some didactic work or hortatory discourse? Shall 1 teach you when I myself need teaching 3 were I of an age to learn? Shall I counsel you, whose mind is so alert and vigorous? As well exhort the Muses to sing and advise the waves to flow, the breezes to blow freely, tire to give heat, and where anything occurs naturally, whether we will or no, to urge it forward with superfluous zeal! Enough this one mistake that a work of mine has, to my regret, become public property: though by good fortune it has fallen into the hands of friends. For had it been otherwise, not even you would convince me that I can give satisfaction. Let that be my answer to your letter: with the other matters which you desire to know, I will make short work: even so this letter is already long. However, I depute Julian, an intimate of your household, to answer any questions you care to ask concerning me: at the same time I urge that, when you learn his reason for coming, you aid him in a purpose which to some extent you have already favoured. Farewell.

AUSONIUS SYMMACHO MODO intellego, quam mellea res sit oratio; quam delinifica et quam suada facundia. persuasisti mihi, quod epistulae meae aput Capuam tibi redditae concinnatio inhumana non esset; set hoc non diutius, quam dum epistulam tuam legi, quae me blanditiis inhiantem tuis velut suco nectaris delibuta perducit. ubi enim chartulam pono et me ipsum interrogo, tum absinthium meum resipit et circumlita melle tuo pocula deprehendo. si vero, id quod saepe facio, ad epistulam tuam redii, rursus inlicior: et rursum ille suavissimus, ille floridus tui sermonis adflatus deposita lectione vanescit et testimonii pondus prohibet inesse dulcedini. hoc me velut aerius bratteae fucus aut picta nebula non longius, quam dum videtur, oblectat chamaeleontis bestiolae vice, quae de subiectis sumit colorem, aliud sentio ex epistula tua, aliud ex conscientia mea. et tu me audes facundissimorum hominum laude dignari: tu, inquam, mihi ista, qui te ultra emendationem omnium protulisti? quisquamne ita nitet, ut conparatus tibi non sordeat? quis ita Aesopi venustatem, quis sophisticas Isocratis conclusiones, quis ad cnthymemata Demosthenis aut opulentiam Tullianam aut proprietatem nostri Maronis accedat? quis ita adfectet singula, ut tu imples omnia? quid enim aliud es, quam ex omni bonarum artium ingenio collecta perfectio? Haec, domine mi fili Symmache, non vereor, ne in te blandius dicta videantur esse quam verius, et expertus es (idem meam mentis atque dictorum, dum in comitatu (legimus ambo aevo dispari, ubi tu veteris militiae praemia tiro meruisti, ego tiroeinium iam veteranus exercui. in comitatu tibi verus fui, nedum me peregre existimes conposita fabulari. In comitatu, inquam, qui frontes hominum aperit, mentes tegit, ibi me et parentem et amicum et, si quid utroque carius est, cariorem fuisse sensisti, set abeamus ab his: ne ista haec conmemoratio ad illam Sosiae formidinem videatur accedere. Illud, quod paene praeterii, qua adfectatione addidisti, ut ad te didascalieum aliquod opuseulum aut sermonem protreptieum mitterem? ego te docebo doeendus adhuc, si essem id aetatis, ut discerem? aut ego te vegetum atque alacrem commonebo? eadem opera et Musas hortabor, ut canant, et maria, ut effluant, et auras, ut vigeant, et ignes, ut caleant. admonebo: et, si quid invitis quoque nobis natura fit, superfluus instigator agitabo. sat est unius erroris quod aliquid meorum me paenitente vulgatum est, quod bona fortuna in manus amicorum incidit, nam si contra id evenisset, nec tu mihi persuaderes placere me posse. Haec ad litteras tuas responsa sint: cetera, quae noscere aves, conpendi faciam; sic quoque iam longa est epistula. Iulianum tamen familiarem domus vestrae, si quid de nobis percontandum arbitraris, adlego; simul admoneo, ut, eum causam adventus eius agnoveris. iuves studium, quod ex parte fovisti. vale.