You will be acting rightly, therefore, if you do not regard those men who seek how much they may say, rather than how they shall say it, and if for yourself you choose, provided a choice must be made, to speak as Publius Vinicius the stammerer does.
When Asellius was asked how Vinicius spoke, he replied: "Gradually"! (It was a remark of Geminus Varius, by the way: "I don't see how you can call that man 'eloquent'; why, he can't get out three words together.")
Why, then, should you not choose to speak as Vinicius does?
Though of course some wag may cross your path, like the person who said, when Vinicius was dragging out his words one by one, as if he were dictating and not speaking. "Say, haven't you anything to say?"
And yet that were the better choice, for the rapidity of Quintus Haterius, the most famous orator of his age, is, in my opinion, to be avoided by a man of sense. Haterius never hesitated, never paused; he made only one start, and only one stop.
When Asellius was asked how Vinicius spoke, he replied: "Gradually"! (It was a remark of Geminus Varius, by the way: "I don't see how you can call that man 'eloquent'; why, he can't get out three words together.")
Why, then, should you not choose to speak as Vinicius does?
Though of course some wag may cross your path, like the person who said, when Vinicius was dragging out his words one by one, as if he were dictating and not speaking. "Say, haven't you anything to say?"
And yet that were the better choice, for the rapidity of Quintus Haterius, the most famous orator of his age, is, in my opinion, to be avoided by a man of sense. Haterius never hesitated, never paused; he made only one start, and only one stop.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 40
We are so enamored of the fast talkers with their slippery words that we even think it reflects poorly on a man’s worth if he speaks in a restrained or gradual manner. Is he lazy? Perhaps he’s not quite right in the head?
Yet it would be better for me to stutter like a Publius Vinicius than to be so caught up in bitterness and reproach. If I truly wish to see into the merits of a fellow’s soul, I should pay attention to the quality of what he says, not the pace at which he says it.
I spent several years in grade school with a boy who struggled with stuttering, and I noticed not only how quickly people grew frustrated with his condition, as if he were deliberately doing something wrong, but also how easily he became a target of the cruelest sort of mockery.
Anyone who insists that children are so innocent clearly does not remember the packs of bullies roaming about, compensating for their own insufficiencies by picking on those who were somehow different. I am still deeply ashamed by not standing up for him, and yet he never seemed to blame me after the predators had moved on to fresh victims.
If I only practiced a little patience in listening to him, he had some of the most thoughtful and kind things to say. I’m afraid I don’t know what became of him, though I unfortunately still know far too much about the whereabouts of the ruffians—as adults they continue to draw attention to themselves.
I can only wish that fine boy well, and while I hope he has managed with his condition, I also hope he never lost his constancy.
It hadn’t changed much by college, when, in turn, a young lady with a lisp became an object of derision for the trendy crowd. As she was also hard of hearing, they would ridicule her quite openly, always demeaning her ideas by imitating her pronunciation.
You should not be surprised to learn how these are now among the same folks who claim to be champions of equity and inclusion in the worlds of business and academia. No, they haven’t changed—they are just as glib as they always were.
If push comes to shove, choose to be a Publius Vinicius instead of a Quintus Haterius. Your conscience will thank you.
We are so enamored of the fast talkers with their slippery words that we even think it reflects poorly on a man’s worth if he speaks in a restrained or gradual manner. Is he lazy? Perhaps he’s not quite right in the head?
Yet it would be better for me to stutter like a Publius Vinicius than to be so caught up in bitterness and reproach. If I truly wish to see into the merits of a fellow’s soul, I should pay attention to the quality of what he says, not the pace at which he says it.
I spent several years in grade school with a boy who struggled with stuttering, and I noticed not only how quickly people grew frustrated with his condition, as if he were deliberately doing something wrong, but also how easily he became a target of the cruelest sort of mockery.
Anyone who insists that children are so innocent clearly does not remember the packs of bullies roaming about, compensating for their own insufficiencies by picking on those who were somehow different. I am still deeply ashamed by not standing up for him, and yet he never seemed to blame me after the predators had moved on to fresh victims.
If I only practiced a little patience in listening to him, he had some of the most thoughtful and kind things to say. I’m afraid I don’t know what became of him, though I unfortunately still know far too much about the whereabouts of the ruffians—as adults they continue to draw attention to themselves.
I can only wish that fine boy well, and while I hope he has managed with his condition, I also hope he never lost his constancy.
It hadn’t changed much by college, when, in turn, a young lady with a lisp became an object of derision for the trendy crowd. As she was also hard of hearing, they would ridicule her quite openly, always demeaning her ideas by imitating her pronunciation.
You should not be surprised to learn how these are now among the same folks who claim to be champions of equity and inclusion in the worlds of business and academia. No, they haven’t changed—they are just as glib as they always were.
If push comes to shove, choose to be a Publius Vinicius instead of a Quintus Haterius. Your conscience will thank you.
—Reflection written in 1/2013
IMAGE: Jan Steen, Children Teasing a Cat (c. 1650)
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