MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO. 217 



difficulties of a defective language. He was possessed of that first 

 requisite for eminence, an enthusiastic attachment to the studies he was 

 recommending. But occupied as he was with the duties of a states 

 man, mere love of literature would have availed little, if separated 

 from the energy and range of intellect by which he was enabled to 

 pursue a variety of objects at once, with equally persevering and inde- 

 fatigable zeal. " He suffered no part of his leisure to be idle, or the 

 least interval of it to be lost ; but what other people gave to the 

 public shows, to pleasures, to feasts, nay, even to sleep and the ordinary 

 refreshments of nature, he generally gave to his books, and the en- 

 largement of his knowledge. On days of business, w T hen he had any- 

 thing particular to compose, he had no other time for meditating, but 

 when he was taking a few turns in his walks, when he used to dictate 

 his thoughts to his scribes who attended him. We find many of his 

 letters dated before daylight, some from the senate, others from his 

 meals, and the crowd of his morning levee." 1 Thus he found time, 

 without apparent inconvenience, for the business of the state, for the 

 turmoil of the courts, and for philosophical studies. During his con- 

 sulate he delivered twelve orations in the senate, rostrum, or forum. 

 His treatises ' de Oratore ' and ' de Republic^,,' the most finished per- 

 haps of his compositions, were written at a time when, to use his own 

 words, " not a day passed without his taking part in forensic disputes." 2 

 And in the last year of his life, he composed at least eight of his phi- 

 losophical works, besides the fourteen orations against Antony, which 

 are known by the name of Philippics. Being thus ardent in the cause 

 of philosophy, he recommended it to the notice of his countrymen, not 

 only for the honour which its introduction would reflect upon himself 

 (which itself was with him a motive of no inconsiderable influence), 

 but also with the fondness of one who esteemed it " the guide of life, 

 the parent of virtue, the guardian in difficulty, and the tranquillizer in 

 misfortune." 3 Nor were his mental endowments less adapted to the 

 accomplishment of his object, than the spirit with which he engaged 

 in the work. Gifted with versatility of talent, with acuteness, quick- 

 ness of perception, skill in selection, art in arrangement, fertility of 

 illustration, warmth of fancy, and extraordinary taste, he at once 

 seizes upon the most effective parts of his subject, places them in the 

 most striking point of view, and arrays them in the liveliest and most 

 inviting colours. His writings have the singular felicity of combining 

 brilliancy of execution, with never-failing good sense. It must be 

 allowed, that he is deficient in depth ; that he skims over rather than 

 dives into the various departments of literature ; that he had too great 

 command of the plausible, to be a patient investigator or a sound 

 reasoner. Yet if he has less originality of thought than others, if he 

 does not grapple with his subject, if he is unequal to a regular and 

 lengthened disquisition, if he is frequently inconsistent in his opinions, 



1 Middleton's Life, vol. ii. p. 254. 2 Ad Quint, fratr. iii. 3. 



3 Tusc. Quaest. v. 2. 



