One of the earliest is mentioned by Suetonius.[216] Pompilius Andronicus, the grammarian, sold his treatise for 1600 sesterces. This sale must have comprised the original manuscript, together with such author’s and publishing “rights” as existed. The younger Pliny is quoted by Birt[217]—as saying that Pliny the elder had, while in Spain, declined an offer from a certain Lucinus of 40,000 sesterces (about $1800.00) for his commentaries. Lucinus was not a publisher, but apparently some enthusiastic admirer of the author.
In another epigram[218] Martial makes a curious slap at two contemporary poets:
Vendunt carmina Gallus et Lupercus.
Sanos, Classice, nunc nega poetas.
“Gallus and Lupercus sell their poetry. Now deny, O Classicus! that they are real poets (or poets in their right minds, or poets of common sense).”
As Haenny suggests (citing Schrevel), no one dares to deny the sanity of a poet who can get money for his productions, but one might question the sanity of the publisher who pays the money.
Haenny thinks that Martial is sneering at the practice (unworthy of poets) of writing for gain. Such a position seems to me entirely inconsistent with Martial’s other expressions. It seems to me much more likely that Martial is sneering at the idea that these particular writers have produced any poems that are worth money. Lupercus is probably the same person whom Martial rebuked for trying to secure his, Martial’s, poems without paying for them.
In one epigram[219] Martial advises a friend, who comes to him for counsel concerning a profession for his son, by no means to permit him to become a poet. If the boy has money-making desires, let him learn to play on the cithara or the flute. If he seems to have real capacity, he might become a herald or an architect.
In another[220] he points out that no money can be obtained from Phœbus or from Thessalian songs. It is Minerva who has wealth—she alone lends money to the other gods. In a third[221] he complains that in writing poetry he may give pleasure to his readers, but he does so at a serious sacrifice to himself, for if he chose, in place of giving his time to verses, to serve as an advocate, to sell his influence to anxious defendants, his clients “would become his purse.” As it is, however, he must console himself with the thought that his readers are benefited although the poet works practically without recompense.
Later, the poet likens his literary work to a die or a cast from a dice-box, the result of the labor being at best an uncertainty.[222]