For L. Murena (26-30)

When this might have been well transacted thus—“The Sabine farm is mine.” “No; it is mine:”—then a trial; they would not have it so. “The farm,” says he, “which is in the territory which is called Sabine:”—verbose enough—well, what next? “That farm, I say, is mine according to the rights of Roman citizens.” What then?—“and

For though many things have been excellently settled by the laws, yet most of them have been depraved and corrupted by the genius of the lawyers. Our ancestors determined that all women, on account of the inferiority of their understanding, should be under the protection of trustees. These men have found out classes of trustees, whose power is subordinate to that of the women. The one party did not wish the domestic sacrifices to be abolished in families; by the ingenuity of the others old men were found to marry by the form called coemptio, [*] for the sake of' getting rid of these sacred ceremonies. Lastly, in every part of the civil law they neglected equity itself, but adhered to the letter of the law; as for instance, because in somebody's books they found the name of Caia, they thought that all the women who had married by coemptio were called Caias. And that often appears marvellous to me, that so many men of such ability should now for so many years have been unable to decide whether the proper expressions to use be the day after tomorrow or the third day, a judge or an arbiter, a cause or a proceeding.

Therefore, as I said before, the dignity of a consul has never been consistent with that science; being one consisting wholly of fictitious and imaginary formulas. And its right to public gratitude was even much smaller. For that which is open to every one, and which is equally accessible to me and to my adversary, cannot be considered as entitled to any gratitude. And therefore you have now, not only lost the hope of conferring a favour, but even the compliment that used to be paid to you by men asking your permission to consult you. No one can be considered wise on account of his proficiency in that knowledge which is neither of any use at all out of Rome, nor at Rome either during the vacations. Nor has any one any right to be considered skillful in law, because there cannot be any difference between men in a branch of knowledge with which they are all acquainted. And a matter is not thought the more difficult for being contained in a very small number of very intelligible documents. Therefore, if you excite my anger, though I am excessively busy, in three days I will profess myself a lawyer. In truth, all that need be said about the written law is contained in written books; nor is there anything written with such precise accuracy, that I cannot add to the formula, “which is the matter at present in dispute.” If you answer what you ought, you will seem to have made the same answer as Servius; if you make any other reply, you will seem to be acquainted with and to know how to handle disputed points.

Wherefore, not only is the military glory which you slight to be preferred to your formulas and legal pleas; but even the habit of speaking is far superior, as regards the attainment of honours, to the profession to the practice of which you devote yourself. And therefore many men appear to me to have preferred this at first; but afterwards, being unable to attain eminence in this profession, they have descended to

There are two occupations which can place men in the highest rank of dignity; one, that of a general the other, that of an accomplished orator. For by the latter the ornaments of peace are preserved, by the former the dangers of war are repelled. But the other virtues are of great importance from their own intrinsic excellence, such as justice, good faith, modesty, temperance; and in these, O Servius, all men know that you are very eminent. But at present I am speaking of those pursuits calculated to aid men in the attainment of honours, and not about the intrinsic excellency of each pursuit. For all those occupations are dashed out of our hands at once, the moment the slightest new commotion begins to have a warlike sound. In truth, as an ingenious poet and a very admirable author says, the moment there is a mention of battle, “away is driven” not only your grandiloquent pretences to prudence, but even that mistress of all things, “wisdom. Everything is done by violence. The orator,” not only he who is troublesome in speaking, and garrulous, but even “the good orator is despised; the horrid soldier is loved.” But as for your profession, that is trampled under foot; “men seek their rights not by law, but hand to hand by the sword,” says he.