hat point my opinion is
decided. But the causes of our rapid decline from ancient excellence
remain to be unfolded. We know that you have turned your thoughts to
this subject, and we expected from you a calm disquisition, had not
the violent attack which Aper made upon your favourite orators, roused
your spirit, and, perhaps, given you some offence. Far from it,
replied Messala; he has given me no offence; nor must you, my friends,
take umbrage, if at any time a word should fall from me, not quite
agreeable to your way of thinking. We are engaged in a free enquiry,
and you know, that, in this kind of debate, the established law allows
every man to speak his mind without reserve. That is the law, replied
Maternus; you may proceed in perfect security. When you speak of the
ancients, speak of them with ancient freedom, which, I fear, is at a
lower ebb than even the genius of those eminent men.

XXVIII. Messala resumed his discourse: The causes of the decay of
eloquence are by no means difficult to be traced. They are, I believe,
well known to you, Maternus, and also to Secundus, not excepting my
friend Aper. It seems, however, that I am now, at your request, to
unravel the business. But there is no mystery in it. We know that
eloquence, with the rest of the polite arts, has lost its former
lustre: and yet, it is not a dearth of men, or a decay of talents,
that has produced this fatal effect. The true causes are, the
dissipation of our young men, the inattention of parents, the
ignorance of those who pretend to give instruction, and the total
neglect of ancient discipline. The mischief began at Rome, it has
over-run all Italy, and is now, with rapid strides, spreading through
the provinces. The effects, however, are more visible at home, and
therefore I shall confine myself to the reigning vices of the capital;
vices that wither every virtue in the bud, and continue their baleful
influence through every season of life.

But before I enter on the subject, it will not be useless to look back
to the system of education that prevailed in former times, and to the
strict discipline of our ancestors, in a point of so much moment as
the formation of youth. In the times to which I now refer, the son of
every family was the legitimate offspring of a virtuous mother. The
infant, as soon as born, was not consigned to the mean dwelling of a
hireling nurse [a], but was reared and cherished in the bosom of a
tender parent. To regulate