Chapter X: Part 10

In his youth, Cicero had written and published some undigested observations on the subject of eloquence; but considering these as unworthy of the character and experience he afterwards acquired, he applied himself to write a treatise on the art which might be more commensurate to his matured talents. He himself mentions several Sicilians and Greeks, who had written on oratory(346). But the models he chiefly followed, were Aristotle, in his books of rhetoric(347); and Isocrates, the whole of whose theories and precepts he has comprehended in his rhetorical works. He has thrown his ideas on the subject into the form of dialogue or conference, a species of composition, which, however much employed by the Greeks, had not hitherto been attempted at Rome. This mode of writing presented many advantages: By adopting it he avoided that dogmatical air, which a treatise from him on such a subject would necessarily have worn, and was enabled to instruct without dictating rules. Dialogue, too, relieved monotony of style, by affording opportunity of varying it according to the characters of the different speakers—it tempered the austerity of precept by the cheerfulness of conversation, and developed each opinion with the vivacity and fulness naturally employed in the oral discussion of a favourite topic. Add to this, the facility which it presented of paying an acceptable compliment to the friends who were introduced as interlocutors, and its susceptibility of agreeable description of the scenes in which the persons of the dialogue were placed—a species of embellishment, for which ample scope was afforded by the numerous villas of Cicero, situated in the most beautiful spots of Italy, and in every variety of landscape, from the Alban heights to the shady banks of the Liris, or glittering shore of Baiæ. As a method of communicating knowledge, however, (except in discussions which are extremely simple, and susceptible of much delineation of character,) the mode of dialogue is, in many respects, extremely inconvenient. “By the interruptions which are given,” says the author of the life of Tasso, in his remarks on the dialogues of that poet,—“By the interruptions which are given, if a dialogue be at all dramatic—by the preparations and transitions, order and precision must, in a great degree, be sacrificed. In reasoning, as much brevity must be used as is consistent with perspicuity; but in dialogue, so much verbiage must be employed, that the scope of the argument is generally lost. The replies, too, to the objections of the opponent, seem rather arguments _ad hominem_, than possessed of the value of abstract truth; so that the reader is perplexed and bewildered, and concludes the inquiry, beholding one of the characters puzzled, indeed, and perhaps subdued, but not at all satisfied that the battle might not have been better fought, and more victorious arguments adduced.”

The dialogue _De Oratore_ was written in the year 698, when Cicero, disgusted with the political dissensions of the capital, had retired, during part of the summer, to the country: But, according to the supposition of the piece, the dialogue occurred in 662. The author addresses it to his brother in a dedication, strongly expressive of his fondness for study; and, after some general observations on the difficulty of the oratoric art, and the numerous accomplishments requisite to form a complete orator, he introduces his dialogue, or rather the three dialogues, of which the performance consists. Dialogue writing may be executed either as direct conversation, in which none but the speakers appear, and where, as in the scenes of a play, no information is afforded except from what the persons of the drama say to each other; or as the recital of the conversation, where the author himself appears, and after a preliminary detail concerning the persons of the dialogue, and the circumstances of time and place in which it was held, proceeds to give an account of what passed in the discourse at which he had himself been present, or the import of which was communicated to him by some one who had attended and borne his part in the conference. It is this latter method that has been followed by Cicero, in his dialogues _De Oratore_. He mentions in his own person, that during the celebration of certain festivals at Rome, the orator Crassus retired to his villa at Tusculum, one of the most delightful retreats in Italy, whither he was accompanied by Antony, his most intimate friend in private life, but most formidable rival in the Forum; and by his father-in-law, Scævola, who was the greatest jurisconsult of his age, and whose house in the city was resorted to as an oracle, by men of the highest rank and dignity. Crassus was also attended by Cotta and Sulpicius, at that time the two most promising orators of Rome, the former of whom afterwards related to Cicero (for the author is not supposed to be personally present) the conversation which passed among these distinguished men, as they reclined on the benches under a planetree, that grew on one of the walks surrounding the villa. It is not improbable, that some such conversation may have been actually held, and that Cicero, notwithstanding his age, and the authority derived from his rhetorical reputation, may have chosen to avail himself of the circumstance, in order to shelter his opinions under those of two ancient masters, who, previously to his own time, were regarded as the chief organs of Roman eloquence.

Crassus, in order to dissipate the gloom which had been occasioned by a serious and even melancholy conversation, on the situation of public affairs, turned the discourse on oratory. The sentiments which he expresses on this subject are supposed to be those which Cicero himself entertained. In order to excite the two young men, Cotta and Sulpicius, to prosecute with ardour the career they had so successfully commenced, he first enlarges on the utility and excellence of oratory; and then, proceeding to the object which he had principally in view, he contends that an almost universal knowledge is essentially requisite to perfection in this noble art. He afterwards enumerates those branches of knowledge which the orator should acquire, and the purposes to which he should apply them: he inculcates the necessity of an acquaintance with the antiquities, manners, and constitution of the republic—the constant exercise of written composition—the study of gesture at the theatre—the translation of the Greek orators—reading and commenting on the philosophers, reading and criticizing the poets. The question hence arises, whether a knowledge of the civil law be serviceable to the orator? Crassus attempts to prove its utility from various examples of cases, where its principles required to be elucidated; as also from the intrinsic nobleness of the study itself, and the superior excellence of the Roman law to all other systems of jurisprudence. Antony, who was a mere practical pleader, considered philosophy and civil law as useless to the orator, being foreign to the real business of life. He conceived that eloquence might subsist without them, and that with regard to the other accomplishments enumerated by Crassus, they were totally distinct from the proper office and duty of a public speaker. It is accordingly agreed, that on the following day Antony should state his notions of the acquirements appropriate to an orator. Previous to the commencement of the second conversation, the party is joined by Catulus and Julius Cæsar, (grand-uncle to the Dictator,) two of the most eminent orators of the time, the former being distinguished by his elegance and purity of diction, the latter by his turn for pleasantry. Having met Scævola, on his way from Tusculum to the villa of Lælius, and having heard from him of the interesting conversation which had been held, the remainder of which had been deferred till the morrow, they came over from a neighbouring villa to partake of the instruction and entertainment. In their presence, and in that of Crassus, Antony maintains his favourite system, that eloquence is not an art, because it depends not on knowledge. Imitation of good models, practice, and minute attention to each particular case, which should be scrupulously examined in all its bearings, are laid down by him as the foundations of forensic eloquence. The great objects of an orator being, in the first place, to recommend himself to his clients, and then to prepossess the audience and judges in their favour, Antony enlarges on the practice of the bar, in conciliating, informing, moving, and undeceiving those on whom the decision of causes depends; all which is copiously illustrated by examples drawn from particular questions, which had occurred at Rome in cases of proof, strict law, or equity. The chief weight and importance is attributed to moving the springs of the passions. Among the methods of conciliation and prepossession, humour and drollery are particularly mentioned. Cæsar being the oratorical wit of the party, is requested to give some examples of forensic jests. Those he affords are for the most part wretched quibbles, or personal reflections on the opposite parties, and their witnesses. The length of the dissertation, however, on this topic, shows the important share it was considered as occupying among the qualifications of the ancient orator.

Antony having thus explained the mechanical part of the orator’s duty, it is agreed, that in the afternoon Crassus should enter on the embellishments of rhetoric. In the execution of the task assigned him, he treats of all that relates to what may be called the ornamental part of oratory—pronunciation, elocution, harmony of periods, metaphors, sentiments, action, (which he terms the predominant power in eloquence,) expression of countenance, modulation of voice, and all those properties which impart a finished grace and dignity to a public discourse.

Cicero himself highly approved of this treatise on Oratory, and his friends regarded it as one of his best productions. The style of the dialogue is copious, without being redundant, as is sometimes the case in the orations. It is admirable for the diversity of character in the speakers, the general conduct of the piece, and the variety of matter it contains. It comprehends, I believe, everything valuable in the Greek works on rhetoric, and also many excellent observations, suggested by the author’s long experience, acquired in the numerous causes, both public and private, which he conducted in the Forum, and the important discussions in which he swayed the counsels of the Senate. As a composition, however, I cannot consider the dialogue _De Oratore_ altogether faultless. It is too little dramatic for a dialogue, and occasionally it expands into continued dissertation; while, at the same time, by adopting the form of dialogue, a rambling and desultory effect is produced in the discussion of a subject, where, of all others, method and close connection were most desirable. There is also frequently an assumed liveliness of manner, which seems forced and affected in these grave and consular orators.

The dialogue entitled _Brutus, sive De Claris Oratoribus_, was written, and is also feigned to have taken place, after Cæsar had attained to sovereign power, though he was still engaged in the war against Scipio in Africa. The conference is supposed to be held among Cicero, Atticus, and Brutus, (from whom it has received its name,) near a statue of Plato, which stood in the pleasure-grounds of Cicero’s mansion, at Rome.

Brutus having experienced the clemency of the conqueror, whom he afterwards sacrificed, left Italy, in order to amuse himself with an agreeable tour through the cities of Greece and Asia. In a few months he returned to Rome, resigned himself to the calm studies of history and rhetoric, and passed many of his leisure hours in the society of Cicero and Atticus. The first part of the dialogue, among these three friends, contains a few slight, but masterly sketches, of the most celebrated speakers who had flourished in Greece; but these are not so much mentioned with an historical design, as to support by examples the author’s favourite proposition, that perfection in oratory requires proficiency in all the arts. The dialogue is chiefly occupied with details concerning Roman orators, from the earliest ages to Cicero’s own time. He first mentions such speakers as Appius Claudius and Fabricius, of whom he knew nothing certain, whose harangues had never been committed to writing, or were no longer extant, and concerning whose powers of eloquence he could only derive conjectures, from the effects which they produced on the people and Senate, as recorded in the ancient annals. The second class of orators are those, like Cato the Censor, and the Gracchi, whose speeches still survived, or of whom he could speak traditionally, from the report of persons still living who had heard them. A great deal of what is said concerning this set of orators, rests on the authority of Hortensius, from whom Cicero derived his information(348). The third class are the deceased contemporaries of the author, whom he had himself seen and heard; and he only departs from his rule of mentioning no living orator at the special request of Brutus, who expresses an anxiety to learn his opinion of the merits of Marcellus and Julius Cæsar. Towards the conclusion, he gives some account of his own rise and progress, of the education he had received, and the various methods which he had practised in order to reach those heights of eloquence he had attained.

This work is certainly of the greatest service to the history of Roman eloquence; and it likewise throws considerable light on the civil transactions of the republic, as the author generally touches on the principal incidents in the lives of those eminent orators whom he mentions. It also gives additional weight and authority to the oratorical precepts contained in his other works, since it shows, that they were founded, not on any speculative theories, but on a minute observation of the actual faults and excellencies of the most renowned speakers of his age. Yet, with all these advantages, it is not so entertaining as might be expected. The author mentions too many orators, and says too little of each, which gives his treatise the appearance rather of a dry catalogue, than of a literary essay, or agreeable dialogue. He acknowledges, indeed, in the course of it, that he had inserted in his list of orators many who possessed little claim to that appellation, since he designed to give an account of all the Romans, without exception, who had made it their study to excel in the arts of eloquence.

The _Orator_, addressed to Brutus, and written at his solicitation, was intended to complete the subjects examined in the dialogues, _De Oratore_, and _De Claris Oratoribus_. It contains the description of what Cicero conceived necessary to form a perfect orator,—a character which, indeed, nowhere existed, but of which he had formed the idea in his own imagination. He admits, that Attic eloquence approached the nearest to perfection; he pauses, however, to correct a prevailing error, that the only genuine Atticism is a correct, plain, and slender discourse, distinguished by purity of style, and delicacy of taste, but void of all ornaments and redundance. In the time of Cicero, there was a class of orators, including several men of parts and learning, and of the first quality, who, while they acknowledged the superiority of his genius, yet censured his diction as not truely Attic, some calling it loose and languid, others tumid and exuberant. These speakers affected a minute and fastidious correctness, pointed sentences, short and concise periods, without a syllable to spare in them—as if the perfection of oratory consisted in frugality of words, and the crowding of sentiments into the narrowest possible compass. The chief patrons of this taste were Brutus and Licinius Calvus. Cicero, while he admitted that correctness was essential to eloquence, contended, that a nervous, copious, animated, and even ornate style, may be truely Attic; since, otherwise, Lysias would be the only Attic orator, to the exclusion of Isocrates, and even Demosthenes himself. He accordingly opposed the system of these ultra-Attic orators, whom he represents as often deserted in the midst of their harangues; for although their style of rhetoric might please the ear of a critic, it was not of that sublime, pathetic, or sonorous species, of which the end was not only to instruct, but to move an audience,—whose excitement and admiration form the true criterions of eloquence.

The remainder of the treatise is occupied with the three things to be attended to by an orator,—what he is to say, in what order his topics are to be arranged, and how they are to be expressed. In discussing the last point, the author enters very fully into the collocation of words, and that measured cadence, which, to a certain extent, prevails even in prose;—a subject on which Brutus wished particularly to be instructed, and which he accordingly treats in detail.

This tract is rather confusedly arranged; and the dissertation on prosaic harmony, though curious, appears to us somewhat too minute in its object for the attention of an orator. Cicero, however, set a high value on this production; and, in a letter to Lepta, he declares, that whatever judgment he possessed on the subject of oratory, he had thrown it all into that work, and was ready to stake his reputation on its merits(349).

The _Topica_ may also be considered as another work on the subject of rhetoric. Aristotle, as is well known, wrote a book with this title. The lawyer, Caius Trebatius, a friend of Cicero, being curious to know the contents and import of the Greek work, which he had accidentally seen in Cicero’s Tusculan library, but being deterred from its study by the obscurity of the writer, (though it certainly is not one of the most difficult of Aristotle’s productions,) requested Cicero to draw up this extract, or commentary, in order to explain the various _topics_, or common-places, which are the foundation of rhetorical argument. Of this request Cicero was some time afterwards reminded by the view of Velia, (the marine villa of Trebatius,) during a coasting voyage which he undertook, with the intention of retiring to Greece, in consequence of the troubles which followed the death of Cæsar. Though he had neither Aristotle nor any other book at hand to assist him, he drew it up from memory as he sailed along, and finished it before he arrived at Rhegium, whence he sent it to Trebatius(350).

This treatise shows, that Cicero had most diligently studied Aristotle’s _Topics_. It is not, however, a translation, but an extract or explanation of that work; and, as it was addressed to a lawyer, he has taken his examples chiefly from the civil law of the Romans, which he conceived Trebatius would understand better than illustrations drawn, like those of Aristotle, from the philosophy of the Greeks.

It is impossible sufficiently to admire Cicero’s industry and love of letters, which neither the inconveniences of a sea voyage, which he always disliked, nor the harassing thoughts of leaving Italy at such a conjuncture, could divert from the calm and regular pursuit of his favourite studies.

The work _De Partitione Rhetorica_, is written in the form of a dialogue between Cicero and his son; the former replying to the questions of the latter concerning the principles and doctrine of eloquence. The tract now entitled _De Optimo genere Oratorum_, was originally intended as a preface to a translation which Cicero had made from the orations of Æschines and Demosthenes in the case of Ctesipho, in which an absurd and trifling matter of ceremony has become the basis of an immortal controversy. In this preface he reverts to the topic on which he had touched in the _Orator_—the mistake which prevailed in Rome, that Attic eloquence was limited to that accurate, dry, and subtle manner of expression, adopted in the orations of Lysias. It was to correct this error, that Cicero undertook a free translation of the two master-pieces of Athenian eloquence; the one being an example of vehement and energetic, the other of pathetic and ornamental oratory. It is probable that Cicero was prompted to these repeated inquiries concerning the genuine character of Attic eloquence, from the reproach frequently cast on his own discourses by Brutus, Calvus, and other sterile, but, as they supposed themselves, truely Attic orators, that his harangues were not in the Greek, but rather in the Asiatic taste,—that is, nerveless, florid, and redundant.

It appears, that in Rome, as well as in Greece, oratory was generally considered as divided into three different styles—the Attic, Asiatic, and Rhodian. Quintilian, at least, so classes the various sorts of oratory in a passage, in which he also shortly characterizes them by those attributes from which they were chiefly distinguishable. “Mihi autem,” says he, “orationis differentiam fecisse et dicentium et audientium naturæ videntur, quod _Attici_ limati quidem et emuncti nihil inane aut redundans ferebant. _Asiana_ gens, tumidior alioquin et jactantior, vaniore etiam dicendi gloria inflata est. Tertium mox qui hæc dividebant adjecerunt genus _Rhodium_, quod velut medium esse, atque ex utroque mixtum volunt(351).” Brutus and Licinius Calvus, as we have seen, affected the slender, polished, and somewhat barren conciseness of Attic eloquence. The speeches of Hortensius, and a few of Cicero’s earlier harangues, as that for Sextus Roscius, afforded examples of the copious, florid, and sometimes tumid style of Asiatic oratory. The latter orations of Cicero, refined by his study and experience, were, I presume, nearly in the Rhodian taste. That celebrated school of eloquence had been founded by Æschines, the rival of Demosthenes, when, being banished from his native city by the influence of his competitor, he had retired to the island of Rhodes. Inferior to Demosthenes in power of argument and force of expression, he surpassed him in copiousness and ornament. The school which he founded, and which subsisted for centuries after his death, admitted not the luxuries of Asiatic diction; and although the most ornamental of Greece, continued ever true to the principles of its great Athenian master. A chief part of the two years during which Cicero travelled in Greece and Asia was spent at Rhodes, and his principal teacher of eloquence at Rome was Molo the Rhodian, from whom he likewise afterwards received lessons at Rhodes. The great difficulty which that rhetorician encountered in the instruction of his promising disciple, was, as Cicero himself informs us, the effort of containing within its due and proper channel the overflowings of a youthful imagination(352). Cicero’s natural fecundity, and the bent of his own inclination, preserved him from the risk of dwindling into ultra-Attic slenderness; but it is not improbable, that from the example of Hortensius and his own copiousness, he might have swelled out to Asiatic pomp, had not his exuberance been early reduced by the seasonable and salutary discipline of the Rhodian.

Cicero, in his youth, also wrote the _Rhetorica, seu de Inventione Rhetorica_, of which there are still extant two books, treating of the part of rhetoric that relates to invention. This is the work mentioned by Cicero, in the commencement of the treatise _De Oratore_, as having been published by him in his youth. It is generally believed to have been written in 666, when Cicero was only twenty years of age, and to have originally contained four books. Schütz, however, the German editor of Cicero, is of opinion, that he never wrote, or at least, never published, more than the two books we still possess.

A number of sentences in these two books of the _Rhetorica, seu de Inventione_, coincide with passages in the _Rhetoricum ad Herennium_, which is usually published along with the works of Cicero, but is not of his composition. Purgold thinks that the _Rhetor. ad Herennium_ was published first, and that Cicero copied from it those corresponding passages(353). It appears, however, a little singular, that Cicero should have borrowed so largely, and without acknowledgment, from a recent publication of one of his contemporaries. To account for this difficulty some critics have supposed, that the anonymous author of the _Rhetor. ad Herennium_ was a rhetorician, whose lectures Cicero had attended, and had inserted in his own work notes taken by him from these prelections, before they were edited by their author(354). Some, again, have imagined, that Cicero and the anonymous author were fellow-students under the same rhetorician, and that both had thus adopted his ideas and expressions; while others believe, that both copied from a common Greek original. But then, in opposition to this last theory, it has been remarked, that the Latin words employed by both are frequently the same; and there are the same references to the history of Rome, and of its ancient native poets, with which no Greek writer can be supposed to have had much acquaintance.

Who the anonymous author of the _Rhetor. ad Herennium_ actually was, has been the subject of much learned controversy, and the point remains still undetermined. Priscian repeatedly cites it as the work of Cicero; whence it was believed to be the production of Cicero by Laurentius Valla, George of Trebizond, Politian, and other great restorers of learning in the fifteenth century; and this opinion was from time to time, though feebly, revived by less considerable writers in succeeding periods. It seems now, however, entirely abandoned; but, while all critics and commentators agree in _abjudicating_ the work from Cicero, they differ widely as to the person to whom the production should be assigned. Aldus Manutius, Sigonius, Muretus, and Riccobonus, were of opinion, that it was written by Q. Cornificius the elder, who was Cæsar’s Quæstor during the civil war, and subsequently his lieutenant in Africa, of which province, after the Dictator’s death, he kept possession for the republican party, till he was slain in an engagement with one of the generals of Octavius. The judgment of these scholars is chiefly founded on some passages in Quintilian, who attributes to Cornificius several critical and philological definitions which coincide with those introduced in the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_. Gerard Vossius, however, has adopted an opinion, that if at all written by a person of that name, it must have been by the younger Cornificius(355), who was born in 662, and, having followed the party of Octavius, was appointed Consul by favour of the Triumvirate in 718. Raphael Regius also seems inclined to attribute the work to Cornificius the son(356). But if the style be considered too remote from that of the age of Cicero, to be ascribed to any of his contemporaries, he conceives it may be plausibly conjectured to have been the production of Timolaus, one of the thirty tyrants in the reign of Gallienus. Timolaus had a brother called Herenianus, to whom his work may have been dedicated, and he thinks that _Timolaus ad Herenianum_ may have been corrupted into _Tullius ad Herennium_. J. C. Scaliger attributes the work to Gallio, a rhetorician in the time of Nero(357)—an opinion which obtained currency in consequence of the discovery of a MS. copy of the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_, with the name of Gallio prefixed to it(358).

Sufficient scope being thus left for new conjectures, Schütz, the German editor of Cicero, has formed a new hypothesis on the subject. Cicero’s tract _De Inventione_ having been written in his early youth, the period of its composition may be placed about 672. From various circumstances, which he discusses at great length, Schütz concludes that the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ was the work which was first written, and consequently previous to 672. Farther, the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ must have been written subsequently to 665, as it mentions the death of Sulpicius, which happened in that year. The time thus limited corresponds very exactly with the age of M. Ant. Gnipho, who was born in the year 640; and him Schütz considers as the real author of the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_. This he attempts to prove, by showing, that many things which Suetonius relates of Gnipho, in his work _De Claris Rhetoribus_, agree with what the author of the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ delivers concerning himself in the course of that production. It is pretty well established, that both Gnipho and the anonymous author of the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ were free-born, had good memories, understood Greek, and were voluminous authors. It is unfortunate, however, that these characteristics, except the first, were probably common to almost all rhetoricians; and Schütz does not allude to any of the more particular circumstances mentioned by Suetonius, as that Gnipho was a Gaul by birth, that he studied at Alexandria, and that he taught rhetoric in the house of the father of Julius Cæsar.

Cicero, who was unquestionably the first orator, was as decidedly the most learned philosopher of Rome; and while he eclipsed all his contemporaries in eloquence, he acquired, towards the close of his life, no small share of reputation as a writer on ethics and metaphysics. His wisdom, however, was founded entirely on that of the Greeks, and his philosophic writings were chiefly occupied with the discussion of questions which had been agitated in the Athenian schools, and from them had been transmitted to Italy. The disquisition respecting the certainty or uncertainty of human knowledge, with that concerning the supreme good and evil, were the inquiries which he chiefly pursued; and the notions which he entertained of these subjects, were all derived from the Portico, Academy, or Lyceum.

The leading principles of the chief philosophic sects of Greece flowed originally from Socrates—

—— “From whose mouth issued forth
Mellifluous streams, that watered all the schools
Of Academics, Old and New(359);”

and who has been termed by Cicero(360) the perennial source of philosophy, much more justly than Homer has been styled the fountain of all poetry. Though somewhat addicted to them from education and early habit, Socrates withdrew philosophy from those obscure and intricate physical inquiries, in which she had been involved by the founders and followers of the Ionic school, and from the subtle paradoxical hypotheses of the sophists who established themselves at Athens in the time of Pericles. It being his chief aim to improve the condition of mankind, and to incline them to discharge the several duties of the stations in which they had been placed, this moral teacher directed his examinations to the nature of vice and virtue, of good and evil. To accomplish the great object he had in view, his practice was to hazard no opinion of his own, but to refute prevalent errors and prejudices, by involving the pretenders to knowledge in manifest absurdity, while he himself, as if in contrast to the presumption of the sophists, always professed that he knew nothing. This confession of ignorance, which amounted to no more than a general acknowledgment of the imbecility of the human understanding, and was merely designed to convince his followers of the futility of those speculations which do not rest on the firm basis of experience, or to teach them modesty in their inquiries, and diffidence in their assertions, having been interpreted in a different sense from that in which it was originally intended, gave rise to the celebrated dispute concerning the certainty of knowledge.

The various founders of the philosophic sects of Greece, imbibed that portion of the doctrines of Socrates which suited their own tastes and views, and sometimes perverted his high authority even to dogmatical or sophistical purposes. It is from Plato we have derived the fullest account of his system; but this illustrious disciple had also greatly extended his knowledge by his voyages to Egypt, Sicily, and Magna Græcia. Hence in the Academy which he founded, (while, as to morals, he continued to follow Socrates,) he superadded the metaphysical doctrines of Pythagoras; in physics, which Socrates had excluded from philosophy, he adopted the system of Heraclitus; and he borrowed his dialectics from Euclid of Megara. The recondite and _eisoteric_ tenets of Pythagoras—the obscure principles of Heraclitus—the superhuman knowledge of Empedocles, and the sacred _Arcana_ of Egyptian priests, have diffused over the page of Plato a majesty and mysticism very different from what we suppose to have been the familiar tone of instruction employed by his great master, of whose style at least, and manner, Xenophon probably presents us with a more faithful image.

In Greece, the heads of sects were succeeded in their schools or academies as in a domain or inheritance. Speusippus, the nephew of Plato, continued to deliver lectures in the Academy, as did also four other successive masters, Xenocrates, Polemo, Crates, and Crantor, all of whom retained the name of Academics, and taught the doctrines of their master without mixture or corruption. But on the appointment of Xenocrates to the chair of the Academy, Aristotle, the most eminent of Plato’s scholars, had betaken himself to another Gymnasium, called the Lyceum, which became the resort of the Peripatetics. The commanding genius of their founder enlarged the sphere of knowledge and intellect, devised the rules of logic, and traced out the principles of rhetorical and poetical criticism: But the sect which he exalted to unrivalled celebrity, though differing in name from the contemporary Academics, coincided with them generally in all the principal points of physical and moral philosophy, and particularly in those concerning which the Romans chiefly inquired. “Though they differed in terms,” says Cicero, “they agreed in things(361), and those persons are grossly mistaken who imagine that the old Academics, as they are called, are any other than the Peripatetics.” Accordingly, we find that both believed in the superintending care of Providence, the immortality of the soul, and a future state of reward and punishment. The supreme good they placed in virtue, with a sufficiency of the chief external advantages of nature, as health, riches, and reputation. Such enjoyments they taught, when united with virtue, make the felicity of man perfect; but if virtuous, he is capable of being happy, (though not entirely so,) without them.

Plato, in his mode of communicating instruction, and promulgating his opinions, had not strictly adhered to the method of his master Socrates. He held the concurrence of memory, with a recent impression, to be a criterion of truth, and he taught that opinions might be formed from the comparison of a present with a recollected perception. But his successors, both in the Academy and Lyceum, departed from the Socratic method still more widely. They renounced the maxim, of affirming nothing; and instead of explaining everything with a doubting reserve, they converted philosophy, as it were, into an art, and formed a system of opinions, which they delivered to their disciples as the peculiar tenets of their sect. They inculcated the belief, that our knowledge has its origin in the senses—that the senses themselves do not judge of truth, but the mind through them beholds things as they really are—that is, it perceives the ideas which always subsist in the same state, without change; so that the senses, through the medium of the mind, may be relied on for the ascertainment of truth. Such was the state of opinions and instruction in the Academy when Arcesilaus, who was the sixth master of that school from Plato, and in his youth had heard the lessons of Pyrrho the sceptic, resolved to reform the dogmatic system into which his predecessors had fallen, and to restore, as he conceived, in all its purity, the Socratic system of affirming nothing with certainty. This founder of the New, or Middle Academy as it is sometimes called, denied even the certain truth of the proposition that we know nothing, which Socrates had reserved as an exception to his general principle. While admitting that there is an actual certainty in the nature of things, he rejected the evidence both of the senses and reason as positive testimony; and as he denied that there existed any infallible criterion of truth or falsehood, he maintained that no wise man ought to give any proposition whatever the sanction of his assent. He differed from the Sceptics or Pyrrhonists only in this, that he admitted degrees of probability, whereas the Sceptics fluctuated in total uncertainty.

As Arcesilaus renounced all pretensions to the certain determination of any question, he was chiefly employed in examining and refuting the sentiments of others. His principal opponent was his contemporary, Zeno, the founder of the stoical philosophy, which ultimately became the chief of those systems which flourished at Rome. The main point in dispute between Zeno and Arcesilaus, was the evidence of the senses. Arcesilaus denied that truth could be ascertained by their assistance, because there is no criterion by which to distinguish false and delusive objects from such as are real. Zeno, on the other hand, maintained that the evidence of the senses is certain and clear, provided they be perfect in themselves, and without obstacle to prevent their effect. Thus, though on different principles, the founder of the Stoics agreed with the Peripatetics and old Academicians, that there existed certain means of ascertaining truth, and consequently that there was evident and certain knowledge. Arcesilaus, though he did not deny that truth existed, would neither give assent nor entertain opinions, because appearances could never warrant his pronouncing on any object or proposition whatever. Nor did the Stoics entertain opinions; but they refrained from this, because they thought that everything might be perceived with certainty.

Arcesilaus, while differing widely from the teachers of the old Platonic Academy in his ideas as to the certainty of knowledge, retained their system concerning the supreme good, which, like them, he placed in virtue, accompanied by external advantages. This was another subject of contest with Zeno, who, as is well known, placed the supreme good in virtue alone,—health, riches, and reputation, not being by him accounted essential, nor disease, poverty, and ignominy, injurious to happiness.

The systems promulgated in the old and new Academy, and the stoical Portico, were those which became most prevalent in Rome. But the Epicurean opinions were also fashionable there. The philosophy of Epicurus has been already mentioned while speaking of Lucretius. Moschus of Phœnicia, who lived before the Trojan war, is said to have been the inventor of the Atomic system, which was afterwards adopted and improved by Leucippus and Democritus, whose works, as Cicero expresses it, were the source from which flowed the streams that watered the gardens of Epicurus(362). To the evidence of the senses this teacher attributed such weight, that he considered them as an infallible rule of truth. The supreme good he placed in pleasure, and the chief evil in pain. His scholars maintained, that by pleasure, or rather happiness, he meant a life of wisdom and temperance; but a want of clearness and explicitness in the definition of what constituted pleasure, has given room to his opponents for alleging that he placed consummate felicity in sensual gratification.

It was long before a knowledge of any portion of Greek philosophy was introduced at Rome. For 600 years after the building of the city, those circumstances did not arise in that capital which called forth and promoted philosophy in Greece. The ancient Romans were warriors and agriculturists. Their education was regulated with a view to an active life, and rearing citizens and heroes, not philosophers. The _Campus Martius_ was their school; the tent their Lyceum, and the traditions of their ancestors, and religious rites, their science,—they were taught to act, to believe, and to obey, not to reason or discuss. Among them a class of men may indeed have existed not unlike the seven sages of Greece—men distinguished by wisdom, grave saws, and the services they had rendered to their country; but these were not philosophers in our sense of the term. The wisdom they inculcated was not sectarian, but resembled that species of philosophy cultivated by Solon and Lycurgus, which has been termed political by Brucker, and which was chiefly adapted to the improvement of states, and civilization of infant society. At length, however, in the year 586, when Perseus, King of Macedon, was finally vanquished, his conqueror brought with him to Rome the philosopher Metrodorus, to aid in the instruction of his children(363). Several philosophers, who had been retained in the court of that unfortunate monarch, auguring well from this incident, followed Metrodorus to Italy; and about the same time a number of Achæans, of distinguished merit, who were suspected to have favoured the Macedonians, were summoned to Rome, in order to account for their conduct. The younger Scipio Africanus, in the course of the embassy to which he was appointed by the Senate, to the kings of the east, who were in alliance with the republic, having landed at Rhodes, took under his protection the Stoic philosopher Panætius(364), who was a native of that island, and carried him back to Rome, where he resided in the house of his patron. Panætius afterwards went to Athens, where he became one of the most distinguished teachers of the Portico(365), and composed a number of philosophical treatises, of which the chief was that on the Duties of Man.

But though the philosophers were encouraged and cherished by Scipio, Lælius, Scævola, and others of the more mild and enlightened Romans, they were viewed with an eye of suspicion by the grave Senators and stern Censors of the republic. Accordingly, in the year 592, only six years after their first arrival in Rome, the philosophers were banished from the city by a formal decree of the Senate(366). The motives for issuing this rigorous edict are not very clearly ascertained. A notion may have been entertained by the severer members of the commonwealth, that the established religion and constitution of Rome might suffer by the discussion of speculative theories, and that the taste for science might withdraw the minds of youth from agriculture and arms. This dread, so natural to a rigid, laborious, and warlike people, would be increased by the degraded and slavish character of the Greeks, which, having been an accompaniment, might be readily mistaken for a consequence, of their progress in philosophy. As most of the philosophers, too, had come from the states of a hostile monarch, the Senate may have feared, lest they should inspire sentiments in the minds of youth, not altogether patriotic or purely republican.

“Sed vetuere patres quod non potuere vetare.”

Though driven from Rome, many of the Greek philosophers took up their residence in the municipal towns of Italy. By the intercession likewise of Scipio Africanus, an exception was made in favour of Panætius and the historian Polybius, who were permitted to remain in the capital. The spirit of inquiry, too, had been raised, and the mind had received an impulse which could not be arrested by any senatorial decree, and on which the slightest incident necessarily bestowed an accelerated progress.

The Greek philosophers returned to Rome in the year 598, under the sacred character of ambassadors, on occasion of a political complaint which had been made against the Athenians, and from which they found it necessary to defend themselves. Notwithstanding the disrespect with which philosophers had recently been treated in Italy, the Athenians resolved to dazzle the Romans by a grand scientific embassy. The three envoys chosen were at that time the heads of the three leading sects of Greek philosophers,—Diogenes, the Stoic, Critolaus, the Peripatetic, and Carneades of Cyrene, who now held the place of Arcesilaus in the new Academy. Besides their philosophical learning, they were well qualified by their eloquence, (a talent which had always great influence with the Romans,) to persuade and bring over the minds of men to their principles. Such, indeed, were their extraordinary powers of speaking and reasoning, that it was commonly said at Rome that the Athenians had sent orators, not to persuade, but to compel(367). During the period of their embassy at Rome they lectured to crowded audiences in the most public parts of the city. The immediate effect of the display which these philosophic ambassadors made of their eloquence and wisdom, was to excite in the Roman youth an ardent thirst after knowledge, which now became a rival in their breasts to the love of military glory(368). Scipio, Lælius, and Furius, showed the strongest inclination for these new studies, and profited most by them; but there was scarcely a young patrician who was not in some degree attracted by the modest simplicity of Diogenes, the elegant, ornamental, and polished discourse of Critolaus, or the vehement, rapid, and argumentative eloquence of Carneades(369). The principles inculcated by Diogenes, who professed to teach the art of reasoning, and of separating truth from falsehood, received their strongest support from the jurisconsults, most of whom became Stoics; and in consequence of their responses, we find at this day that the stoical philosophy exercised much influence on Roman jurisprudence, and that many principles and divisions of the civil law have been founded on its favourite maxims. Of these philosophic ambassadors, however, Carneades was the most able man, and the most popular teacher. “He was blessed,” says Cicero, “with a divine quickness of understanding and command of expression(370).” “In his disputations, he never defended what he did not prove, and never attacked what he did not overthrow(371).” By some he has been considered and termed the founder of a third Academy, but there appears to be no solid ground for such a distinction. In his lectures, which chiefly turned on ethics, he agreed with both Academies as to the supreme good, placing it in virtue and the primary gifts of nature. Like Arcesilaus, he was a zealous advocate for the uncertainty of human knowledge, but he did not deny, with him, that there were truths, but only maintained that we could not clearly discern them(372). The sole other difference in their tenets, is one not very palpable, mentioned by Lucullus in the _Academica_. Arcesilaus, it seems, would neither assent to anything nor opine. Carneades, though he would not assent, declared that he would opine; under the constant reservation, however, that he was merely opinionating, and that there was no such thing as positive comprehension or perception(373). In this, Lucullus, who was a follower of the _old_ Academy, thinks Carneades the most absurd and inconsistent of the two. Carneades succeeded to the old dispute between the Academics and Stoics, and in his prelections he combated the arguments employed by Chrysippus(374), in his age the chief pillar of the Portico, as Arcesilaus had formerly maintained the controversy with Zeno, its founder. He differed from the Pyrrhonists, by admitting the real existence of good and evil, and by allowing different degrees of probability(375), while his sceptical opponents contended that there was no ground for embracing or rejecting one opinion more than another. Carneades was no less distinguished by his artful and versatile talents for disputation, than his vehement and commanding oratory. But his extraordinary powers of persuasion, and of maintaining any side of an argument, for which the academical philosophy peculiarly qualified him, were at length abused by him, to the scandal of the serious and inflexible Romans. Thus, we are told, that he one day delivered a discourse before Cato, with great variety of thought and copiousness of diction, on the advantages of a rigid observance of the rules of justice. Next day, in order to fortify his doctrine of the uncertainty of human knowledge, he undertook to refute all his former arguments(376). It is likely that his attack on justice was a piece of pleasantry, like Erasmus’ Encomium of Folly; and many of his audience were captivated by his ingenuity; but the Censor immediately insisted, that the affairs which had brought these subtle ambassadors to Rome, should be forthwith despatched by the Senate, in order that they might be dismissed with all possible expedition(377). Whether Cato entertained serious apprehensions, as is alleged by Plutarch, that the military virtues of his country might be enfeebled, and its constitution undermined, by the study of philosophy, may, I think, be questioned. It is more probable that he dreaded the influence of the philosophers themselves on the opinions of his fellow-citizens, and feared lest their eloquence should altogether unsettle the principles of his countrymen, or mould them to whatever form they chose. Lactantius, too, in a quotation from Cicero’s treatise _De Republica_, affords what may be considered as an explanation of the reason why Carneades’ lecture against justice was so little palatable to the Censor, and probably to many others of the Romans. One of the objections which he urged against justice, or rather against the existence of a due sense of that quality, was, that if such a thing as justice were to be found on earth, the Romans would resign their conquests, and return to their huts and original poverty(378). Cato likewise appears to have had a considerable spirit of personal jealousy and rivalry; while, at the same time, his national pride led him to scorn all the arts of a country which the Roman arms had subdued.

Carneades promulgated his opinions only in his eloquent lectures; and it is not known that he left any writings of importance behind him(379). But his oral instructions had made a permanent impression on the Roman youth, and the want of a written record of his principles was amply supplied by his successor Clitomachus, who was by birth a Carthaginian, and was originally called Asdrubal. He had fled from his own country to Athens during the siege of Carthage, by the Romans, in the third Punic war(380); and in the year 623 he went from Greece to Italy, to succeed Carneades in the school which he had there established. Clitomachus was a most voluminous author, having written not less than four ample treatises on the necessity of withholding the assent from every proposition whatever. One of these tracts was dedicated to Lucilius, the satiric poet(381), and another to the Consul Censorinus. The essence of the principles which he maintained in these works, has been extracted by Cicero, and handed down to us in a passage inserted in the _Academica_. It is there said, that the resemblances of things are of such a nature that some of them appear probable, and others not; but this is no sufficient ground for supposing that some objects may be correctly perceived, since many falsities are probable, whereas no falsity can be accurately perceived or known: The Academy never attempted to deprive mankind of the use of their senses, by denying that there are such things as colour, taste, and sound; but it denied that there exists in these qualities any criterion or characteristic of truth and certainty. A wise man, therefore, is said, in a double sense, to withhold his assent; in one sense, when it is understood that he absolutely assents to no proposition; in another, when he suspends answering a question, without either denying or affirming. He ought never to assent implicitly to any proposition, and his answer should be withheld until, according to _probability_, he is in a condition to reply in the affirmative or negative. But as Cicero admits, that a wise man, who, on every occasion, suspends his assent, may yet be impelled and moved to action, he leaves him in full possession of those motives which excite to action, together with a power of answering in the affirmative or negative to certain questions, and of following the probability of objects; yet still without giving them his assent(382).

Clitomachus was succeeded by Philo of Larissa, who fled from Greece to Italy, during the Mithridatic war, and revived at Rome a system of philosophy, which by this time began to be rather on the decline. Cicero attended his lectures, and imbibed from them the principles of the new Academy, to which he ultimately adhered. Philo published two treatises, explanatory of the doctrines of the new Academy, which were answered in a work entitled _Sosus_, by Antiochus of Ascalon, who had been a scholar of Philo, but afterwards abjured the innovations of the new Academy, and returned to the old, as taught by Plato and his immediate successors,—uniting with it, however, some portion of the systems of Aristotle and Zeno(383). In his own age, Antiochus was the chief support of the original principles of the Academy, and was patronized by all those at Rome, who were still attached to them, particularly by Lucullus, who took the philosopher along with him to Alexandria, when he went there as Quæstor of Egypt.

In the circumstances of Rome, the first steps towards philosophical improvement, were a general abatement of that contempt which had been previously entertained for philosophical studies—a toleration of instruction—the power of communicating wisdom without shame or restraint, and its cordial reception by the Roman youth. This proficiency, which necessarily preceded speculation or invention, had already taken place. Partly through the instructions of Greek philosophers who resided at Rome, and partly by means of the practice which now began to prevail, of sending young men for education to the ancient schools of wisdom, philosophy made rapid progress, and almost every sect found followers or patrons among the higher order of the Roman citizens.