Chapter XI: Part 11

From the earliest times, however, till that of Cicero, Greek philosophy was chiefly inculcated by Greeks. There was no Roman who devoted himself entirely to metaphysical contemplation, and who, like Epicurus, Aristotle, and Zeno, lounged perpetually in a garden, paced about in a Lyceum, or stood upright in a portico. The Greek philosophers passed their days, if not in absolute seclusion, at least in learned leisure and retirement. Speculation was the employment of their lives, and their works were the result of a whole age of study and reflection(384). The Romans, on the other hand, regarded philosophy, not as the business of life, but as an elegant relaxation, or the means of aiding their advancement in the state. They heard with attention the ingenious disputes agitated among the Greeks, and perused their works with pleasure; but with all this taste for philosophy, they had not sufficient leisure to devise new theories. The philosophers of Rome were Scipio, Cato, Brutus, Lucullus—men who governed their country at home, or combated her enemies abroad. They had, indeed, little motive to invent new systems, since so many were presented to them, ready formed, that every one found in the doctrines of some Greek sect, tenets which could be sufficiently accommodated to his own disposition and situation. In the same manner as the plunder of Syracuse or Corinth supplied Rome with her statues and pictures, and rendered unnecessary the exertions of native artists; and as the dramas of Euripides and Menander provided sufficient materials for the Roman stage; so the Garden, Porch, and Academy, furnished such variety of systems, that new inventions or speculations could easily be dispensed with. The prevalence, too, of the principles of that Academy, which led to doubt of all things, must have discouraged the formation of new and original theories. Nor were even the Greek systems, after their introduction into Italy, classed and separated as they had been in Greece. Most of the distinguished men of Rome, however, in the time of Cicero, were more inclined to one school than another, and they applied the lessons of the sect which they followed with more success, perhaps, than their masters, to the practical purposes of active life. The jurisconsults, chief magistrates, and censors, adopted the Stoical philosophy, which had some affinity to the principles of the Roman constitution, and which they considered best calculated for ruling their fellow-citizens, as well as meliorating the laws and morals of the state. The orators who aspired to rise by eloquence to the highest honours of the republic, had recourse to the lessons of the new Academy, which furnished them with weapons for disputation; while those who sighed for the enjoyment of tranquillity, amid the factions and dangers of the commonwealth, retired to the Gardens of Epicurus. But while subscribing to the leading tenets of a sect, they did not strive to gain followers with any of the spirit of sectarism; and it frequently happened, that neither in principle nor practice did they adopt all the doctrines of the school to which they chiefly resorted. Thus Cæsar, who was accounted an Epicurean, and followed the Epicurean system in some things, as in his belief of the materiality and mortality of the soul, doubtless held in little reverence those ethical precepts, according to which,

—— “Nihil in nostro corpore prosunt,
Nec fama, neque nobilitas, nec gloria regni.”

Lucretius was a sounder Epicurean, and gave to the precepts of his master all the dignity and grace which poetical embellishment could bestow. But Atticus, the well-known friend and correspondent of Cicero, was perhaps the most perfect example ever exhibited of genuine and practical Epicurism.

The rigid and inflexible Cato, was, both in his life and principles, the great supporter of the Stoical philosophy—conducting himself, according to an expression of Cicero, as if he had lived in the polity of Plato, and not amid the dregs of Romulus. The old Academy boasted among its adherents Lucullus, the conqueror of Mithridates—the Lorenzo of Roman arts and literature—whose palaces rivalled the porticos of Greece, and whose library, with its adjacent schools and galleries, was the resort of all who were distinguished for their learning and accomplishments. Whilst Quæstor of Macedonia, and subsequently, while he conducted the war against Mithridates, Lucullus had enjoyed frequent opportunities of conversing with the Greek philosophers, and had acquired such a relish for philosophical studies, that he devoted to them all the leisure he could command(385). At Rome, his constant companion was Antiochus of Ascalon, who, though a pupil of Philo, became himself a zealous supporter of the old Academy; and accordingly, Lucullus, who favoured that system, often repaired to his house, to partake in the private disputations which were there carried on against the advocates for the new or middle Academy. The old Academy also numbered among its votaries Varro, the most learned of the Romans, and Brutus, who was destined to perform so tragic a part on the ensanguined stage of his country.

Little was done by these eminent men to illustrate or enforce their favourite systems by their writings. Even the productions of Varro were calculated rather to excite to the study of philosophy, than to aid its progress. The new Academy was more fortunate in the support of Cicero, who has asserted and vindicated its principles with equal industry and eloquence. From their first introduction, the doctrines of the new Academy had been favourably received at Rome. The tenets of the dogmatic philosophers were so various and contradictory, were so obstinately maintained, and rested on such precarious foundations, that they afforded much scope and encouragement to scepticism. The plausible arguments by which the most discordant opinions were supported, led to a distrust of the existence of absolute truth, and to an acquiescence in such probable conclusions, as were adequate to the practical purposes of life. The speculations, too, of the new Academy, were peculiarly fitted to the duties of a public speaker, as they left free the field of disputation, and habituated him to the practice of collecting arguments from all quarters, on every doubtful question. Hence it was that Cicero addicted himself to this sect, and persuaded others to follow his example. It has been disputed, if Cicero was really attached to the new Academic system, or had merely resorted to it as being best adapted for furnishing him with oratorical arguments suited to all occasions. At first, its adoption was subsidiary to his other plans. But, towards the conclusion of his life, when he no longer maintained the place he was wont to hold in the Senate or the Forum, and when philosophy formed the occupation “with which existence was just tolerable, and without which it would have been intolerable(386),” he doubtless became convinced that the principles of the new Academy, illustrated as they had been by Carneades and Philo, formed the soundest system which had descended to mankind from the schools of Athens.

The attachment, however, of Cicero to the Academic philosophy, was free from the exclusive spirit of sectarism, and hence it did not prevent his extracting from other systems what he found in them conformable to virtue and reason. His ethical principles, in particular, appear Eclectic, having been, in a great measure, formed from the opinions of the Stoics. Of most Greek sects he speaks with respect and esteem. For the Epicureans alone, he seems (notwithstanding his friendship for Atticus) to have entertained a decided aversion and contempt.

The general purpose of Cicero’s philosophical works, was rather to give a history of the ancient philosophy, than dogmatically to inculcate opinions of his own. It was his great aim to explain to his fellow-citizens, in their own language, whatever the sages of Greece had taught on the most important subjects, in order to enlarge their minds and reform their morals; while, at the same time, he exercised himself in the most useful employment which now remained to him—a superior force having deprived him of the privilege of serving his country as an orator or Consul.

Cicero was in many respects well qualified for the arduous but noble task which he had undertaken, of naturalizing philosophy in Rome, and exhibiting her, according to the expression of Erasmus, on the Stage of life. He was a man of fertile genius, luminous understanding, sound judgment, and indefatigable industry—qualities adequate for the cultivation of reason, and sufficient for the supply of subjects of meditation. Never was a philosopher placed in a situation more favourable for gathering the fruits of an experience employed on human nature and civil society, or for observing the effects of various qualities of the mind on public opinion and on the actions of men. He lived at the most eventful crisis in the fate of his country, and in the closest connection with men of various and consummate talents, whose designs, when fully developed by the result, must have afforded on reflection, a splendid lesson in the philosophy of mind. But this situation, in some respects so favourable, was but ill calculated for revolving abstract ideas, or for meditating on those abstruse and internal powers, of which the consequences are manifested in society and the transactions of life. Accordingly, Cicero appears to have been destitute of that speculative disposition which leads us to penetrate into the more recondite and original principles of knowledge, and to mark the internal operations of thought. He had cultivated eloquence as clearing the path to political honours, and had studied philosophy, as the best auxiliary to eloquence. But the contemplative sciences only attracted his attention, in so far as they tended to elucidate ethical, practical, and political subjects, to which he applied a philosophy which was rather that of life than of speculation.

In the writings of Cicero, accordingly, everything deduced from experience and knowledge of the world—every observation on the duties of society, is clearly expressed, and remarkable for justness and acuteness. But neither Cicero, nor any other Roman author, possessed sufficient subtlety and refinement of spirit, for the more abstruse discussions, among the labyrinths of which the Greek philosophers delighted to find a fit exercise for their ingenuity. Hence, all that required research into the ultimate foundation of truths, or a more exact analysis of common ideas and perceptions—all, in short, that related to the subtleties of the Greek schools, is neither so accurately expressed, nor so logically connected.

In theoretic investigation, then,—in the explication of abstract ideas—in the analysis of qualities and perceptions, Cicero cannot be regarded as an inventor or profound original thinker, and cannot be ranked with Plato and Aristotle, those mighty fathers of ancient philosophy, who carried back their inquiries into the remotest truths on which philosophy rests. Where he does attempt fixing new principles, he is neither very clear nor consistent; and it is evident, that his general study of all systems had, in some degree, unsettled his belief, and had better qualified him to dispute on either side with the Academics, than to examine the exact weight of evidence in the scale of reason, or to exhibit a series of arguments, in close and systematic arrangement, or to deduce accurate conclusions from established and certain principles. His philosophic dialogues are rather to be considered as popular treatises, adapted to the ordinary comprehension of well-informed men, than profound disquisitions, suited only to a Portico or Lyceum. They bespeak the orator, even in the most serious inquiries. Elegance and fine writing, their author appears to have considered as essential to philosophy; and historic, or even poetical illustration, as its brightest ornament. The peculiar merit, therefore, of Cicero, lay in the happy execution of what had never been before attempted—the luminous and popular exposition of the leading principles and disputes of the ancient schools of philosophy, with judgments concerning them, and the application of results, deduced from their various doctrines to the peculiar manners or employments of his countrymen. Hence, though it may be honouring Cicero too highly, to term his works, with Gibbon, a Repository of Reason, they are at least a Miscellany of Philosophic Information, which has become doubly valuable, from the loss of the writings of many of those philosophers, whose opinions he records; and though the merit of originality rests with the Greek schools, no compositions transmitted from antiquity present so concise and comprehensive a view of the opinions of the Greek philosophers(387).

That the mind of Cicero was most amply stored with the learning of the Greek philosophers, and that he had the whole circle of their wisdom at his command, is evident, from the rapidity with which his works were composed—having been all written, except the treatise _De Legibus_, during the period which elapsed from the battle of Pharsalia till his death; and the greater part of them in the course of the year 708.

It is justly remarked by Goerenz, in the introduction to his edition of the book _De Finibus_(388), and assented to by Schütz(389), that it seems scarcely possible, that those numerous philosophical works, which are asserted to have been composed by Cicero in the year 708, could have been begun and finished in one year; and that such speed of execution leads us to suppose, that either the materials had been long collected, or that the productions themselves were little more than versions. In his _Academica_, Cicero remarks,—“Ego autem, dum me ambitio, dum honores, dum causæ, dum reipublicæ non solum cura, sed quædam etiam procuratio multis officiis implicatum et constrictum tenebat, hæc inclusa habebam; et, ne obsolescerent, renovabam, quum licebat, legendo. Nunc vero et fortunæ gravissimo percussus vulnere, et administratione reipublicæ liberatus, doloris medicinam a philosophiâ peto, et otii oblectationem hanc, honestissimam judico.” It is not easy to determine, as Schütz remarks, whether, by the expression “hæc inclusa habebam,” Cicero means merely the writings of philosophical authors, or treatises and materials for treatises by himself. “We ought, however,” proceeds Schütz, “the less to wonder that Cicero composed so many works in so short a time, when we read the following passage in a letter to Atticus, written in July 708—‘De linguâ Latinâ securi es animi, dices, qui talia conscribis! ἀπογραφα sunt; minore labore fiunt: verba tantum affero, quibus abundo(390)’; which words, according to Gronovius, imply, that the philosophic writings of Cicero are little more than versions from the Greek.”

In the laudable attempt of naturalizing philosophy at Rome, the difficulty which Lucretius had encountered, in embodying in Latin verse the precepts of Epicurus,—

“Propter egestatem linguæ rerumque novitatem,”

must have been almost as powerfully felt by Cicero. Philosophy was still little cultivated among the Romans; and no people will invent terms for thoughts or ideas with which it is little occupied. One of his letters to Atticus is strongly expressive of the trouble which he had in interpreting the philosophic terms of Greece in his native tongue(391). Thus, for example, he could find no Latin word equivalent to the ἐποχη, or that withholding of assent from all propositions, which the new Academy professed. The language of the Greeks had been formed along with their philosophy. Their terms of physics had their origin in the ancient Theogonies, or the speculations of the Milesian sage; and Plato informs us, that one might make a course of moral philosophy in travelling through Attica and reading the inscriptions engraved on the tombs, pillars, and monuments, erected in the earliest ages near the public ways and centre of villages(392). Hence, in Greece, words naturally became the apposite signs of speculative and moral ideas; but in Rome, a foreign philosophy had to be inculcated in a tongue which was already completely formed, which was greatly inferior in flexibility and precision to the Greek; and which, though Cicero certainly used some liberties in this respect, had too nearly reached maturity, to admit of much innovation. Its words, accordingly, did not always precisely express the subtle notions signified in the original language, whence there was often an appearance of obscurity in the idea, and of a defect in conclusions, drawn from premises which were indefinite, or which differed by a shade of meaning from those established in Greece.

Aware of this difficulty, and conscious, perhaps, that he possessed not precision and originality of thinking sufficient to recommend a formal treatise, Cicero adopted the mode of writing in dialogues, in which rhetorical diffuseness, and looseness of definition, might be overlooked, and in which ample scope would be afforded for the ornaments of language.

It was by oral discourse that knowledge was chiefly communicated at the dawn of science, when books either did not exist, or were extremely rare. In the Porch, in the Garden, or among the groves of the Academy, the philosopher conferred with his disciples, listened to their remarks, and replied to their objections. Socrates, in particular, was accustomed thus to inculcate his moral lessons; and it was natural for the scholars, who recorded them, to follow the manner in which they had been disclosed. Of these disciples, Plato, who was the most distinguished, readily adopted a form of composition, which gave scope to his own fertile and poetical imagination; while, at the same time, it enabled him more accurately to paint his great master. One of his chief objects, too, was to represent the triumph of Socrates over the Sophists; and if a writer wish to cover an opponent with ridicule, perhaps no better mode could be devised, than to set him up as a man of straw in a dialogue. As argumentative victory, or the embarrassment of the antagonist of Socrates, was often all that was aimed at, it was unnecessary to be very scrupulous about the means, and, considered in this view, the agreeable irony of that philosopher—the address with which, by seeming to yield, he ensnares the adversary—his quibbles—his subtle distinctions, and perplexing interrogatories, display consummate skill, and produce considerable dramatic effect; while, at the same time, the scenery and circumstances of the dialogue are often described with a richness and beauty of imagination, which no philosophic writer has as yet surpassed(393).

When Cicero, towards the close of his long and meritorious life, employed himself in transferring to Rome the philosophy of Greece, he appears to have been chiefly attracted by the diffusive majesty of Plato, whose intellectual character was in many respects congenial to his own. His dialogues in so far resemble those of Plato, that the personages are real, and of various characters and opinions; while the circumstances of time and place are, for the most part, as completely fictitious as in his Greek models. Yet there is a considerable difference in the manner of Cicero’s Dialogues, from those of the great founder of the Academy. Plato ever preserved something of the Socratic method of giving birth to the thoughts of others—of awakening, by interrogatories, the sense of truth, and supplanting errors. But Cicero himself, or the person who speaks his sentiments, always takes the lead in the conference, and gives us long, and often uninterrupted dissertations. His object, too, appears to have been not so much to cover his adversaries with ridicule, or even to prevail in the argument, as to pay a complimentary tribute to his numerous and illustrious friends, or to recall, as it were, from the tomb, the departed heroes and sages of his country.

In the form of dialogue, Cicero has successively treated of Law, Metaphysics, Theology, and Morals.

_De Legibus_.—Of this dialogue there are only three books now extant, and even in these considerable chasms occur. A conjecture has been recently hazarded by a learned German, in an introduction to a translation of the dialogue, that these three books, as we now have them, were not written by Cicero, but that they are mere excerpts taken from his lost writings, by some monk or father of the church(394). There are few works, however, in which more genuine marks of the master-hand of Cicero may be traced, than in the tract _De Legibus_; and the connection between the different parts is too closely preserved, to admit of the notion that it has been made up in the manner which this critic supposes. Another conjecture is, that it formed part of the third, fourth, and fifth books of Cicero’s lost treatise _De Republica_. This surmise, however, was highly improbable, since Cicero, in the course of the work _De Legibus_, refers to that _De Republica_ as a separate production, and it is now proved to be chimerical by the discovery of Mai. The dialogue _De Legibus_, however, seems to have been drawn up as a kind of supplement to that _De Republica_, being intended to point out what laws would be most suitable to the perfect republic, which the author had previously described(395).

As to the period of composition, it thus manifestly appears to have been written subsequently to the dialogue _De Republica_; and it is evident, from his letters to his brother Quintus, that the work _De Republica_ was begun in 699, and finished in 700(396), so that the dialogue _De Legibus_ could not have been composed before that year. It is further clear, that it was written after the year 701, since he obviously alludes in it to the murder of Clodius,—boasting that his chief enemy was now not only deprived of life, but wanted sepulture, and the accustomed funeral obsequies(397). Now, it is well known that Clodius was slain in 701, and that his dead body was dragged naked by a lawless mob into the Forum, where it was consumed amid the conflagration raised in the Senate-house. It is equally evident that the treatise _De Legibus_ was written before that _De Finibus_, composed in 708, since, in the former work, the author alludes to the questions which we find discussed in the latter, as controversies which he is one day to take up(398). But it is demonstrable that the dialogue _De Legibus_ was written even previous to the battle of Pharsalia, which was fought in 705, since the author talks in it of Pompey as of a person still alive, and in the plenitude of glory(399). Chapman, in his dissertation _De Ætate Librorum de Legibus_, subjoined to Tunstall’s Latin letter to Middleton, concerning the epistles to Brutus, thinks that it was not written till the year 709. He is of opinion, that what is said of Pompey, and the allusions to the murder of Clodius, as to a recent event, were only intended to suit the time in which the dialogue takes place: But then it so happens, that no historical period whatever is assigned by the author of the dialogue, as the date of its actual occurrence. Chapman also maintains, that this is the only mode of accounting for the work _De Legibus_ not being mentioned in the treatise _De Divinatione_, where Cicero’s other philosophical productions are enumerated. The reason of this omission, however, might be, that the work _De Legibus_ never was made public by the author; and, indeed, with exception of the first book, the whole is but a sketch or outline of what he intended to write, and is far from having received the polish and perfection of those performances which he circulated himself.

The discussion _De Legibus_ is carried on, in the shape of dialogue, by Cicero, his brother Quintus, and Atticus. Of these Cicero is the chief interlocutor. The scene is laid amid the walks and pleasure-grounds of Cicero’s villa of Arpinum, which lay about three miles from the town of that name, and was situated in a mountainous but picturesque region of the ancient territory of the Samnites, now forming part of the kingdom of Naples. This house was the original seat of the family of Cicero, who was born in it during the life of his grandfather, while it was yet small and humble as the Sabine cottage of Curius or Cincinnatus; but his father had gradually enlarged and embellished it, till it became a spacious and elegant mansion, where, as his health was infirm, he passed the greater part of his life in literary retirement(400). Cicero was thus equally attracted to this villa by the many pleasing and tender recollections with which it was associated, and by the amenity of the situation, which was the most retired and delightful, even in that region of enchanting landscape. It was closely surrounded by a grove, and stood not far from the confluence of the Fibrenus with the Liris. The former stream, which murmured over a rocky channel, was remarkable for its clearness, rapidity, and coolness; and its sloping verdant banks were shaded with lofty poplars(401). “Many streams,” says Mr. Kelsall, one of our latest Italian tourists, “which are celebrated in story and song, disappoint the traveller,—

‘Dumb are their fountains, and their channels dry,’—

but, in the course of long travels, I never met with so abundant and lucid a current as the Fibrenus; the length of the stream considered, which does not exceed four miles and a half. It flows with great rapidity, and is about thirty or thirty-five feet in width near the Ciceronian isles. It is generally fifteen and even twenty in depth; ‘largus et exundans,’ like the genius of him who had so often trodden its banks. The water even in the intensest heats, still retains its icy coldness; and, although the thermometer was above 80° in the shade, the hand, plunged for a few seconds into the Fibrenus, caused a complete numbness(402).” Near to the house, the Fibrenus was divided into equal streams by a little island, which was fringed with a few plane-trees, and on which stood a portico(403), where Cicero often retired to read or meditate, and composed some of his sublimest harangues. Just below this islet, each branch of the stream rushed by a sort of cascade, into the cerulean Liris(404), on which the Fibrenus bestowed additional freshness and coolness, and after this union received the name of the more noble river(405). The epithet _taciturnus_, applied to the Liris by Horace, and _quietus_, by Silius Italicus, must be understood only of the lower windings of its course. No river in Italy is so noisy as the Liris about Arpino and Cicero’s villa; for the space of a mile and a half after receiving the Fibrenus, it formed no less than six cascades, varying in height from three to twenty feet(406). This spot, embellished with all the ornaments of hills and valleys, and wood and water-falls, was one of Cicero’s most favourite retreats. When Atticus first visited it, he was so charmed, that, instead of wondering as before that it was such a favourite residence of his friend, he expressed his surprise that he ever retired elsewhere(407); declaring, at the same time, his contempt of the marble pavements, arched ceilings, and artificial canals of magnificent villas, compared with the tranquillity and natural beauties of Arpinum. Cicero, indeed, appears at one time to have thought of the island, formed by the Fibrenus, as the place most suitable for the monument which he intended to raise to his beloved daughter Tullia(408).

The situation of this villa was close to the spot where now stands the city of Sora(409). “The Liris,” says Eustace, “still bears its ancient name till it passes Sora, when it is called the Garigliano. The Fibrenus, still so called, falls into it a little below Sora, and continues to encircle the island in which Cicero lays the scene of the dialogue _De Legibus_. Arpinum, also, still retains its name(410).” Modern travellers bear ample testimony to the scenery round Sora being such as fully justifies the fond partiality of Cicero, and the admiration of Atticus. “Nothing,” says Mr Kelsall, “can be imagined finer than the surrounding landscape. The deep azure of the sky, unvaried by a single cloud—Sora on a rock at the foot of the precipitous Apennines—both banks of the Garigliano covered with vineyards—the _fragor aquarum_, alluded to by Atticus in the work _De Legibus_—the coolness, rapidity, and ultramarine hue of the Fibrenus,—the noise of its cataracts—the rich turquoise colour of the Liris—the minor Apennines round Arpino, crowned with umbrageous oaks to their very summits, present scenery hardly elsewhere to be equalled, certainly not to be surpassed, even in Italy(411).” The spot where Cicero’s villa stood, was, in the time of Middleton, possessed by a convent of monks, and was called the villa of St Dominic. It was built in the year 1030, from the fragments of the Arpine villa!

“Art, Glory, Freedom, fail—but Nature still is fair.”

The first conference, _De Legibus_, is held in a walk on the banks of the Fibrenus; the other two in the island which it formed, and which Cicero called Amalthea, from a villa belonging to Atticus in Epirus. These three books are all that are now extant. It appears, however, that, at the commencement of the fifth dialogue, the sun having then passed the meridian, and its beams striking in such a direction that the speakers were no longer sheltered from its rays by the young plane-trees, which had been recently planted, they left the island, and descending to the banks of the Liris, finished their discourse under the shade of the alder-trees, which stretched their branches over its margin(412).

An ancient oak, which stood in Cicero’s pleasure-grounds, led Atticus to inquire concerning the augury which had been presented to Marius, a native of Arpinum, from that very oak, and which Cicero had celebrated in a poem devoted to the exploits of his ferocious countryman, Cicero hints, that the portent was all a fiction; which leads to a discussion on the difference between poetry and history, and the poverty of Rome in the latter department. As Cicero, owing to the multiplicity of affairs, had not then leisure to supply this deficiency, he is requested by his guests, to give them, in the meanwhile, a dissertation on Laws—a subject with which he was so conversant, that he could require no previous preparation. It is agreed, that he should not treat of particular or arbitrary laws,—as those concerning _Stillicide_, and the forms of judicial procedure—but should trace the philosophic principles of jurisprudence to their remotest sources. From this recondite investigation he excludes the Epicureans, who decline all care of the republic, and bids them retire to their gardens. He entreats that the new Academy should be silent, since her bold objections would soon destroy the fair and well-ordered structure of his lofty system. Zeno, Aristotle, and the immediate followers of Plato, he represents as the teachers who best prepare a citizen for performing the duties of social life. Them he professes chiefly to follow; and, in conformity with their system, he announces in the first book, which treats of laws in general, that man being linked to a supreme God by reason and virtue, and the whole species being associated by a communion of feelings and interests, laws are alike founded on divine authority and natural benevolence.

According to this sublime hypothesis, the whole universe forms one immense commonwealth of gods and men, who participate of the same essence, and are members of the same community. Reason prescribes the law of nature and nations; and all positive institutions, however modified by accident or custom, are drawn from the rule of right which the Deity has inscribed on every virtuous mind. Some actions, therefore, are just in their own nature, and ought to be performed, not because we live in a society where positive laws punish those who pay no regard to them, but for the sake of that equity which accompanies them, independently of human ordinances. These principles may be applicable to laws in a certain sense; but, in fact, it is rather moral right and justice than laws that the author discusses—for bad or pernicious laws he does not admit to be laws at all. To do justice, to love mercy, and to worship God with a pure heart, were, doubtless, laws in his meaning, (that is, they were right,) previous to their enactment, and no human enactment to the contrary could abrogate them. His principles, however, apply to laws in this sense, and not to arbitrary civil institutions.

Having, in the first discourse, laid open the origin of laws, and source of obligations, he proceeds, in the remaining books, to set forth a body of laws conformable to his own plan and ideas of a well-ordered state;—announcing, in the first place, those which relate to religion and the worship of the gods; secondly, such as prescribe the duties and powers of magistrates. These laws are, for the most part, taken from the ancient government and customs of Rome, with some little modification calculated to obviate or heal the disorders to which the republic was liable, and to give its constitution a stronger bias in favour of the aristocratic faction. The species of instruction communicated in these two books, has very little reference to the sublime and general principles with which the author set out. Many of his laws are arbitrary municipal regulations. The number of the magistrates, the period of the duration of their offices, with the suffrages and elections in the Comitia, were certainly not founded in the immutable laws of God or nature; and the discussion concerning them has led to the belief, that the second and third books merely comprehended a collection of facts, from which general principles were to be subsequently deduced.

At the end of the third book it is mentioned, that the executive power of the magistracy, and rights of the Roman citizens, still remain to be discussed. In what number of books this plan was accomplished, is uncertain. Macrobius, as we have seen, quotes the fifth book(413); and Goerenz thinks it probable there were six,—the fourth being on the executive power, the fifth on public, and the sixth on private rights.

What authors Cicero chiefly followed and imitated in his work _De Legibus_, has been a celebrated controversy since the time of Turnebus. It seems now to be pretty well settled, that, in substance and principles, he followed the Stoics; but that he imitated Plato in the style and dress in which he arrayed his sentiments and opinions. That philosopher, as is well known, after writing on government in general, drew up a body of laws adapted to that particular form of it which he had delineated. In like manner, Cicero chose to deliver his sentiments, not by translating Plato, but by imitating his manner in the explication of them, and adapting everything to the constitution of his own country. The Stoic whom he principally followed, was probably Chrysippus, who wrote a book Περι Νομου(414), some passages of which are still extant, and exhibit the outlines of the system adopted in the first book _De Legibus_. What of general discussion appears in the third book is taken from Theophrastus, Dio, and Panætius the Stoic.

_De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum_.—This work is a philosophical account of the various opinions entertained by the Greeks concerning the Supreme Good and Extreme Evil, and is by much the most subtle and difficult of the philosophic writings of Cicero. It consists of five books, of that sort of dialogue, in which, as in the treatise _De Oratore_, the discourse is not dramatically represented, but historically related by the author. The constant repetition of “said I,” and “says he,” is tiresome and clumsy, and not nearly so agreeable as the dramatic form of dialogue, where the names of the different speakers are alternately prefixed, as in a play. The whole is addressed to Marcus Brutus in an Introduction, where the author excuses his study of philosophy, which some persons had blamed as unbecoming his character and dignity. The conference in the first two books is supposed to be held at Cicero’s Cuman villa, which was situated on the hills of old Cumæ, and commanded a prospect of the Campi Phlegræi, the bay of Puteoli, with its islands, the Portus Misenus the harbour of the Roman fleet, and Baiæ, the retreat of the most wealthy patricians. Here Cicero received a visit from Lucius Torquatus, a confirmed Epicurean, and from a young patrician, Caius Triarius, who is a mute in the ensuing colloquy. Torquatus engages their host in philosophical discussion, by requesting to know his objections to the Epicurean system. These Cicero states generally; but Torquatus, in his answer, confines himself to the question of the Supreme Good, which he placed in pleasure. This tenet he supports on the principle, that, of all things, Virtue is the most pleasurable; that we ought to follow its laws, in consequence of the serenity and satisfaction arising from its practice; and that honourable toil, or even pain, are not always to be avoided, as they often prove necessary means towards obtaining the most exquisite gratifications. Cicero, in his refutation, which is contained in the second book, gives rather a different representation of the philosophy of Epicurus, from his great poetic contemporary Lucretius. The term ἡδονη, (voluptas,) used by Epicurus to express his Supreme Good, can only, as Cicero maintains, mean sensual enjoyment, and can never be so interpreted as to denote tranquillity of mind. But supposing virtue to be cultivated merely as productive of pleasure, or as only valuable because agreeable—a cheat, who had no remorse or conscience, might enjoy the _summum bonum_ in defrauding a rightful owner of his property; and no act would thus be accounted criminal, if it escaped the brand of public infamy. On the other hand, if pain be accounted the Supreme Evil, how can any man enjoy felicity, when this greatest of all misfortunes may at any moment seize him!

In the third and fourth books, the scene of the dialogue is changed. In order to inspect some books of Aristotelian philosophy, Cicero walks over to the villa of young Lucullus, to whom he had been appointed guardian, by the testament of his illustrious father. Here he finds Cato employed in perusing certain works of Stoical authors; and a discussion arises on that part of the Stoical system, relating to the Supreme Good, which Cato placed in virtue alone. Cicero, in his answer to Cato, attempts to reconcile this tenet with the doctrines of the Academic philosophy, which he himself professed, by showing that the difference between them consisted only in the import affixed to the term _good_—the Academic sect assigning a pre-eminence to virtue, but admitting that external advantages are good also in their decree. Now, the Stoics would not allow them to be good, but merely valuable, eligible, or preferable; so that the sects could be reconciled in sentiments, if the terms were a little changed. The Academical system is fully developed in the fifth book, in a dialogue held within the Academy; and, at the commencement, the associations which that celebrated, though then solitary spot, was calculated to awaken are finely described. “I see before me,” says Piso, “the perfect form of Plato, who was wont to dispute in this very place: These gardens not only recall him to my memory, but present his very person to my senses—I fancy to myself that here stood Speusippus—there Xenocrates—and here, on this bench, sat his disciple Polemo. To me, our ancient Senate-house seems peopled with the like visionary forms; for often when I enter it, the shades of Scipio, of Cato, and of Lælius, and, in particular, of my venerable grandfather, rise up to my imagination.” Here Piso, who was a great Platonist, gives an account, in the presence of Cicero and Cicero’s brother Quintus, of the hypothesis of the old Academy concerning moral good, which was also that adopted by the Peripatetics. According to this system, the _summum bonum_ consists in the highest improvement of all the mental and bodily faculties. The perfection, in short, of everything consistent with nature, enters into the composition of supreme felicity. Virtue, indeed, is the highest of all things, but other advantages must also be valued according to their worth. Even pleasures become ingredients of happiness, if they be such as are included in the _prima naturæ_, or primary advantages of nature. Cicero seems to approve this system, and objects only to one of the positions of Piso, That a wise man must be always happy. Our author thus contrasts with each other the different systems of Greek philosophy, particularly the Epicurean with the Stoical tenets; and hence, besides, refuting them in his own person, he makes the one baffle the other, till he arrives at what is most probable, the utmost length to which the middle or new Academy pretended to reach. The chief part of the work _De Finibus_, is taken from the best writings of the different philosophers whose doctrines he explains. The first book closely follows the tract of Epicurus, Κυριων δοξων. Cicero’s second book, in which he refutes Epicurism, is borrowed from the stoic Chrysippus, who wrote ten books Of the beautiful, and of pleasure, (Περι τοῦ καλοῦ και της ἡδονης,) wherein he canvassed the Epicurean tenets concerning the Supreme Good and Evil. His third book is derived from a treatise of the same Chrysippus, entitled Περι τελων(415). The fourth, where he refutes the Stoics, is from the writings of Polemo, who, following the example of his master Xenocrates, amended the Academic doctrines, and nearly accommodated them on this subject of Good and Evil to the opinions of the ancient Peripatetics. Some works of Antiochus of Ascalon, who, in the time of Cicero, was the head of the old Academy, supplied the materials for the concluding dialogue.

The work _De Finibus_ was written in 708, and though begun subsequently to the _Academica_, was finished before it. The period, however, of the three different conferences of which it consists, is laid a considerable time before the date of its publication. It is evident that the first dialogue is supposed to be held in 703, since Torquatus, the principal speaker, who perished in the civil war, is mentioned as _Prætor Designatus_, and this prætorship he bore in the year 704. The following conference is placed subsequently, at least, to the death of the great Lucullus, who died in 701. The last dialogue is carried more than thirty years back, being laid in 674, when Cicero was in his twenty-seventh year, and was attending the lessons of the Athenian philosophers. For this change, the reason seems to have been, that as Piso was the fittest person whom the author could find to support the doctrines of the old Academy, and as he had renounced his friendship during the time of the disturbances occasioned by the Clodian faction, it became necessary to place the conference at a period when they were fellow-students at Athens. The critics have observed some anachronisms in this last book, in making Piso refer to the other two dialogues, of which he had no share, and could have had no knowledge, as being held at a later period than that of the conference he attended.

_Academica_.—This work is termed Academica, either because it chiefly relates to the Academic philosophy, or because it was composed at the villa of Puteoli, where a grove and portico were called by Cicero, from an affected imitation of the Athenians, his Academy(416). There evidently existed what may be termed two editions of the _Academica_, neither of which we now possess perfect—what we have being the second book of the first edition, and the first of the second. In the first edition, the speakers were Cicero himself, Catulus, Lucullus, and Hortensius. The first book was inscribed Catulus, and the second Lucullus, these persons being the chief interlocutors in their respective divisions. The first dialogue, or Catulus, was held in the villa of that senator. Every word of it is unfortunately lost, but the import may be gathered, from the references to it in the Lucullus, or second book, which is still extant. It appears to have contained a sketch of the history of the old and the new Academy, and then to have entered minutely into the doctrines and principles of the latter, to which Catulus was attached. Catulus explained them as they had been delivered by Carneades, whose lectures his father had attended, and in his old age imparted their substance to his son. He refuted the philosophy of Philo, where that writer differed from Carneades, (which, though of the new Academy, he did in some particulars,) and also the opinions of Antiochus, who followed the old Academy. Hortensius seems to have made a short reply, but the more ample discussion of the system of the old Academy was reserved for Lucullus. Previous, however, to entering on this topic, our philosophers pass over from the Cuman villa of Catulus to that of Hortensius, at Bauli, one of the many magnificent seats belonging to that orator, and situated a little above the luxurious Baiæ, in the direction towards Cumæ, on an inlet of the Bay of Naples. Here they had resolved to remain till a favourable breeze should spring up, which might carry Lucullus to his Neapolitan, and Cicero to his Pompeian villa. While awaiting this opportunity, they repaired to an open gallery, which looked towards the sea, whence they descried the vessels sailing across the bay, and the ever changeful hue of its waters, which appeared of a saffron colour under the morning beam, but became azure at noon, till, as the day declined, they were rippled by the western breeze, and empurpled by the setting sun(417). Here Lucullus commenced his defence of the old Academy, and his disputation against Philo, according to what he had learned from the philosopher Antiochus, who had accompanied him to Alexandria, when he went there as Quæstor of Egypt. While residing in that city, two books of Philo arrived, which excited the philosophic wrath of Antiochus, and gave rise to much oral discussion, as well as to a book from his pen, entitled _Sosus_, in which he attempted to refute the doctrines so boldly promulgated by Philo. Lucullus was thus enabled fully and faithfully to detail the arguments of the chief supporter and reviver in those later ages of the old Platonic Academy. His discourse is chiefly directed against that leading principle of the new Academy, which taught that nothing can be known or ascertained. Recurring to nature, and the constitution of man, he confirms the faith we have in our external senses, and the mental conclusions deduced from them. To this Cicero replies, from the writings of Clitomachus, and of course enlarges on the delusion of the senses—the false appearances we behold in sleep, or while under the influence of phrensy, and the uncertainty of everything so fully demonstrated by the different opinions of the great philosophers, on the most important of all subjects, the Providence of the Gods—the Supreme Good and Evil, and the formation of the world.

These two books, the Catulus and Lucullus, of which, as already mentioned, the last alone is extant, were written after the termination of the civil wars, and a copy of them sent by Cicero to Atticus. It occurred, however, to the author soon afterwards, that the characters introduced were not very suitable to the subjects discussed, since Catulus and Lucullus, though both ripe scholars, and well-educated men, could not, as statesmen and generals, be supposed to be acquainted with all the _minutiæ_ of philosophic controversy contained in the books bearing their names. While deliberating if he should not rather put the dialogue into the lips of Cato and Brutus, he received a letter from Atticus, acknowledging the present of his work, but mentioning that their common friend, Varro, was displeased to find that none of his treatises were addressed to him, or inscribed with his name. This intimation, and the incongruity of the former characters with the subject, determined the author to dedicate the work to Varro, and to make him the principal speaker in the dialogue(418). This change, and the reflection, perhaps, on certain defects in the arrangement of the old work, as also the discovery of considerable omissions, particularly with regard to the tenets of Arcesilaus, the founder of the new academy, induced him to remodel the whole, to add in some places, to abridge in others, and to bestow on it more lustre and polish of style. In this new form, the _Academica_ consisted of four books, a division which was better adapted for treating his subject: But of these four, only the first remains. The dialogue it contains is supposed to be held during a visit which Atticus and Cicero paid to Varro, in his villa near Cumæ. His guests entreat him to give an account of the principles of the old Academy, from which Cicero and Atticus had long since withdrawn, but to which Varro had continued steadily attached. This first book probably comprehends the substance of what was contained in the Catulus of the former edition. Varro, in complying with the request preferred to him, deduces the origin of the old Academy from Socrates; he treats of its doctrines as relating to physics, logic, and morals, and traces its progress under Plato and his legitimate successors. Cicero takes up the discourse when this historical account is brought down to Arcesilaus, the founder of the new Academy. But the work is broken off in the most interesting part, and just as the author is entering on the life and lectures of Carneades, who introduced the new Academy at Rome. Cicero, however, while he styles it the new Academy, will scarcely allow it to be new, as it was in fact the most genuine exposition of those sublime doctrines which Plato had imbibed from Socrates. The historical sketch of the Academic philosophy having been nearly concluded in the first book, the remaining books, which are lost, contained the disputatious part. In the second book the doctrines of Arcesilaus were explained; and from one of the few short fragments preserved, there appears to have been a discussion concerning the remarkable changes that occur in the colour of objects, and the complexion of individuals, in consequence of the alterations they undergo in position or age, which was one of Arcesilaus’ chief arguments against the certainty of evidence derived from the senses. The third and fourth books probably contained the doctrines of Carneades and Philo, with Varro’s refutation of them, according to the principles of Antiochus. From a fragment of the third book, preserved by Nonius, it appears that the scene of the dialogue was there transferred to the banks of the Lucrine lake, which lay in the immediate vicinity of Varro’s Cuman villa(419).

These four books formed the work which Cicero wished to be considered as the genuine and improved Academics. The former edition, however, which he had sent to Atticus, had gone abroad, and as he could not recall it, he resolved to complete it, by prefixing an introductory eulogy of Catulus to the first, and of Lucullus to the second book,—extolling, in particular, the incredible genius of the latter, which enabled him, though previously inexperienced in the art of war, merely by conversation and study, during his voyage from Rome, to land on the coast of Asia, with the acquirements of a consummate commander, and to extort the admission from his antagonist, Mithridates, who had coped with Sylla, that he was the first of warriors.

This account of the two editions of the Academics, which was first suggested by Talæus(420), has been adopted by Goerenz(421); and it appears to me completely confirmed by the series of Cicero’s letters to Atticus, contained in the 13th book of his Epistles. It is by no means, however, unanimously assented to by the French and German commentators. Lambinus, seeing that Nonius quoted, as belonging to the fourth book of the _Academica_, passages which we find in the Lucullus, or second book of the first edition, considered and inscribed it as the fourth of the new edition, instead of the second of the old, in which he was followed by many subsequent editors; but this is easily accounted for, since the new edition, being remodelled on the old, many things in the last or second book of the old edition would naturally be transferred to the fourth or last of the new, and be so cited by those grammarians who wrote when the whole work was extant. Ranitz denies that there ever were two editions of the _Academica_ made public, or preserved, and that, so far from the last three books being lost, the Lucullus contains the whole of these three, but from the error of transcribers they have been run into each other(422). This critic is right, indeed, in the notion he entertains, that Cicero wished the first edition of the _Academica_ to be destroyed, or to fall into oblivion, but it does not follow that either of these wishes was accomplished; and indeed it is proved, from Cicero’s own letters, that the older edition had passed into extensive circulation.