Cato the Younger

He practised also the kind of speaking which is effective with a multitude, deeming it right that in political philosophy, as in a great city, a certain warlike element should also be maintained. However, he did not perform his exercises in company with others, nor did any one ever hear him rehearsing a speech. Indeed, to one of his companions who said, Men find fault with thee, Cato, for thy silence, he replied: Only let them not blame my life. I will begin to speak when I am not going to say what were better left unsaid.

The Basilica Porcia, as it was called, had been dedicated by the elder Cato while he was censor.[*](Cf. the Cato Major, xix. 2. This was in 182 B.C.) Here, then, the tribunes of the people were accustomed to transact their business; and as one of the pillars was thought to be in the way of their seats, they determined to take it down or move it to another place. This brought Cato for the first time, and against his wishes, into the forum; he opposed the tribunes, and was admired for the proof of eloquence and high character which he gave.

For his speech had nothing about it that was juvenile or affected, but was straightforward, full of matter, and harsh. However, a charm that captivated the ear was diffused over the harshness of his sentiments, and the mingling of his character with them gave their austerity a smiling graciousness that won men’s hearts. His voice was sufficiently loud and penetrating to reach the ears of so large a multitude, and it had a strength and tension which could not be broken or worn out; for he often spoke all day without getting tired.

At this time, then, after winning his case, he went back again to his silence and his discipline. He built up his body by vigorous exercises, accustoming himself to endure both heat and snow with uncovered head, and to journey on foot at all seasons, without a vehicle. Those of his friends who went abroad with him used horses, and Cato would often join each of them in turn and converse with him, although he walked and they rode. In sickness, he had wonderful patience, as well as self-control; for instance, if he had an ague, he would pass the day alone by himself, admitting no visitor, until he was conscious of lasting relief and the departure of the disease.