visions. He treads on
consecrated ground. It was there that Eloquence first grew up, and
there she reared her temple. In those retreats she first adorned
herself with those graces, which have made mankind enamoured of her
charms; and there she filled the hearts of the wise and good with joy
and inspiration. Oracles first spoke in woods and sacred groves. As to
the species of oratory, which practises for lucre, or with views of
ambition; that sanguinary eloquence [b] now so much in vogue: it is of
modern growth, the offspring of corrupt manners, and degenerate times;
or rather, as my friend _Aper_ expressed it, it is a _weapon_ in the
hands of ill-designing men.

The early and more happy period of the world, or, as we poets call it,
the golden age, was the aera of true eloquence. Crimes and orators were
then unknown. Poetry spoke in harmonious numbers, not to varnish evil
deeds, but to praise the virtuous, and celebrate the friends of human
kind. This was the poet's office. The inspired train enjoyed the
highest honours; they held commerce with the gods; they partook of the
ambrosial feast: they were at once the messengers and interpreters of
the supreme command. They ranked on earth with legislators, heroes,
and demigods. In that bright assembly we find no orator, no pleader of
causes. We read of Orpheus [c], of Linus, and, if we choose to mount
still higher, we can add the name of Apollo himself. This may seem a
flight of fancy. Aper will treat it as mere romance, and fabulous
history: but he will not deny, that the veneration paid to Homer, with
the consent of posterity, is at least equal to the honours obtained by
Demosthenes. He must likewise admit, that the fame of Sophocles and
Euripides is not confined within narrower limits than that of Lysias
[d] or Hyperides. To come home to our own country, there are at this
day more who dispute the excellence of Cicero than of Virgil. Among
the orations of Asinius or Messala [e], is there one that can vie with
the Medea of Ovid, or the Thyestes of Varius?

XIII. If we now consider the happy condition of the true poet, and
that easy commerce in which he passes his time, need we fear to
compare his situation with that of the boasted orator, who leads a
life of anxiety, oppressed by business, and overwhelmed with care? But
it is said, his contention, his toil and danger, are steps to the
consulship. How much more eligible was the soft retreat in which
Virgil [a] passed his