LECTURE V.

CICERO AND HIS RHETORICAL WRITINGS.

WITHIN a century after the death of Cicero, while his language was yet flourishing, and the events of his age, and institutions of his country, were in recent remembrance, it was observed by Quinctilian, that a young man, desirous of ascertaining his own proficiency in literary taste, needed only to ask himself how he relished the writings of Cicero, and if he found the answer to be, that they highly delighted him, he might safely conclude himself far advanced in refinement. If this remark was then correct, it must apply much more forcibly to the self-examination of any young man in our times. The difficulties to be vanquished, before you can obtain access to those inestimable

treasures, are incomparably greater, than they were in the age of Quinctilian. The youth of that day, to understand Cicero, needed little other preparatory knowledge, than merely how to read. Some little acquaintance with the history of the time, the sources to which flowed copious and frequent; some little recollection of republican habits and manners, which had indeed vanished from practice, but were fresh in the memory of all, and yet lurked in the wishes of many; was all the information, necessary for a Roman of that epocha to master every page of Cicero. Your labors to obtain the same possession must be far more severe, and their success at best must fall far shorter of being complete. You have a language, long since deceased, to revive; you have a circumstantial history of the age to familiarize; you have a course of painful studies into the civil, political, and military constitution of the Roman republic to go through, before you can open an unobstructed avenue between the beauties of Cicero and your own understandings. How much more reason then must you have to be pleased with your own acquirements, if you can honestly answer it to your hearts, that you are charmed with the works of Cicero, than a pupil of Quinctilian could have

from the same cause? Yet I am not sure, that originally the remark was very judicious. To a Roman in the age of Quinctilian, methinks the fondness for Cicero could not be so clear a demonstration of an excellent taste, as the dislike or contempt of him would have been to prove the contrary. Not to admire him must have shown a want of the reason and feeling, which belong to man. To delight in him could indicate only common sense and common sensibility. Even now, my friends, I doubt not but many of you are sincere admirers of Cicero; and yet I cannot advise you to draw from that sentiment any very pointed inference of self-complacency. Taste was never made to cater for vanity. I would rather recommend it to you to turn the pleasure you take in those exquisite compositions to better account. Make your profit of your pleasure; scrutinize the causes of your enjoyments; pass the spirit of the Roman orator through the a'embic of your reason, until every drop of its essence shall be distinctly perceptible to your taste. As a general hint to guide you in this examination, I mentioned to you in my last lecture the distinguishing characteristics of his two principal rhetorical treatises.

I told you, that the dialogues

de oratore contained an analytical decomposition of the art of public speaking, while the orator put together the same precepts, to exhibit them in the person of a perfect speaker. But instruction is to be derived as much, perhaps more, from example, than from precept; and Cicero has also availed himself of this process for the illustration of his favorite art. The treatise, which bears the the double title of Brutus and de claris oratoribus, contains, as this latter title imports, a summary review of all the famous orators, Greek and Roman, until his own time. In form it partakes both of the didactic manner, in which the author speaks in his own person, and of the dialogue, where interlocutors are formally introduced. The Brutus is a narrative of a dialogue, or conversation between the orator and his friends, Atticus and Brutus; for it is not immaterial to observe how Cicero, in writing so many works upon the same general subject, has given to his discussions the charm of variety. The Brutus is a practical commentary upon the dialogues and the orator. In examining the several excellencies and defects of the most renowned Greek and Roman speakers, the true principles of eloquence are naturally unfolded. But it is further valuable, as it teaches

the principles of rhetorical criticism; the art of appreciating the real merits of a public speaker. The natural graces of simplicity, the splendor of ornamented diction, the elegance and purity of a correct style, the charms of urbanity, the stings of ingenious sarcasm and raillery, are exhibited in the shape of historical proof. Specific instances are produced of temperate insinuations, of strength, of vehemence, of dignity, of copious facility, of fertile invention, discerning selection of argument, novelty of expression, art in the choice and arrangement of words, readiness of action, quickness of rapartee, skilful digression, and the rare talent of the pathetic, are held up to admiration with the force of example. And as the detection of faults is no less instructive to the student, than the display of beauties, in rendering all justice to the perfections of the illustrious orators, Cicero has not been blind to their blemishes. Boldness of invention, barrenness of fancy, affectation, singularity, treacheries of memory, heaviness, carelesness, exaggerations, awkwardness, penury of thought, meanness of expression, and many other imperfections, occasionally pass through the ordeal, and never escape the discriminating and accurate judgment of Cicero. The acuteness and