long trod the stage with dignity and elevation.

Paradoxa.—This tract contains a defence of six peculiar opinions or paradoxes of the Stoics, somewhat of the description of those which Cato was wont to promulgate in the Senate. These are, that what is morally fitting (honestum) is [pg 243]alone good,—that the virtuous can want nothing for complete happiness—that there are no degrees in crimes or good actions—that every fool is mad—that the wise alone are wealthy—that the wise man alone is free, and that every fool is a slave. These absurd and quibbling positions the author supports, in a manner certainly more ingenious than philosophical. The Paradoxa, indeed, seem to have been written as a sort of exercise of rhetorical wit, rather than as a serious disquisition in philosophy; and each paradox is personally applied or directed against an individual. There is no precision whatever in the definitions; the author plays on the ambiguity of the words, bonum and dives, and his arguments frequently degenerate into particular examples, which are by no means adequate to support his general proposition.

De Naturâ Deorum.—Of the various philosophical works of Cicero, the most curious perhaps, and important, is that on the Nature of the Gods. It is addressed to Brutus, and is written in dialogue. This form of composition, besides the advantages already pointed out, is peculiarly fitted for subjects of delicacy and danger, where the author dreads to expose himself to reproach or persecution. On this account chiefly it seems to have been adopted by the disciples of Socrates. That philosopher had fallen a victim to popular fury,—to those imputations of impiety which have so often and so successfully been repeated against philosophers. In the schools of his disciples, a double doctrine seems to have been adopted for the purpose of escaping persecution, and Plato probably considered the form of dialogue as best calculated to secure him from the imputations of his enemies. It was thus, in later times, that Galileo endeavoured to shield himself from the attacks of error and injustice, and imagined, that by presenting his conclusions in the Platonic manner, he would shun the malignant vigilance of the Court of Inquisition433.

In the dialogue De Naturâ Deorum, the author presents the doctrines of three of the most distinguished sects among the ancients—the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Academics—on the important subject of the Nature of the Divine Essence, and of Providence. He introduces three illustrious persons of his country, each elucidating the tenets of the sect that he preferred, and contending for them, doubtless, with the chief arguments which the learning or talents of the author himself could supply. Cicero represents himself as hav[pg 244]ing gone to the house of C. Cotta the Pontifex Maximus, whom he found sitting in his study with C. Velleius, a Senator, who professed the principles of Epicurus, and Q. Lucilius Balbus, a supporter of the doctrines of the Stoics.—“As soon as Cotta saw me, ‘You are come,’ says he, ‘very seasonably, for I have a dispute with Velleius upon an important subject, in which, considering the nature of your studies, it is not improper for you to join.’—‘Indeed,’ said I, ‘I am come very seasonably, as you say, for here are three chiefs of the three principal sects met together.’ ” Cotta himself is a new Academic, and he proceeds to inform Cicero that they were discoursing on the nature of the gods, a topic which had always appeared to him very obscure, and that therefore he had prevailed on Velleius to state the sentiments of Epicurus upon the subject. Velleius is requested to go on with his arguments; and after recapitulating what he had already said, “with the confidence peculiar to his sect, dreading nothing so much as to seem to doubt about anything, he began, as if he had just then descended from the council of the gods434.”

The discourse of Velleius consists, in a considerable degree, of raillery and declamations directed against the doctrines of different sects, of which he enumerates a great variety, and which supposes in Cicero extensive philosophical erudition, or rather, perhaps, from the slight manner in which they are passed over, that he had taken his account of them from some ancient Diogenes Laertius, or Stanley435.—“I have hitherto,” says Velleius, “rather exposed the dreams of dotards than the opinions of philosophers; and whoever considers how rashly [pg 245]and inconsiderately their tenets are advanced, must entertain a veneration for Epicurus, and rank him in the number of those beings who are the subject of this dispute, for he alone first founded the existence of the gods, on the impression which nature herself hath made on the minds of men.”

When Cotta has concluded his refutation of Velleius, with which the first book closes, Balbus is next requested to give the sentiments of the Stoics, on the subject of the gods, to which, making a slight excuse, he consents. His first argument for their existence, after shortly alluding to the magnificence of the world, and the prevalence of the doctrine, is “the frequent appearance of the gods themselves. In the war with the Latins,” he continues, “when A. Posthumius, the Dictator, attacked Octavius Mamilius, the Tusculan, at Regillus, Castor and Pollux were seen fighting in our army on horseback, and since that time the same offspring of Tyndarus gave notice of the defeat of Perseus; for P. Vatienus, grandfather of the present youth of that name, coming in the night to Rome, from his government of Reate, two young men on white horses appeared to him, and told him King Perseus was that day taken prisoner. This news he carried to the Senate, who immediately threw him into prison, for speaking inconsiderately on a state affair; but when it was confirmed by letters from Paullus, he was recompensed by the Senate with land and exemption. The voices of the Fauns have been often heard, and [pg 246]deities have appeared in forms so visible, that he who doubts must be hardened in stupidity or impiety.”

Balbus, after various other remarks, enters on the topic of the creation of the world, and its government by the providence of the gods. He justly observes, that nothing can be more absurd than to suppose that a world, so beautifully adorned, could be formed by chance, or by a fortuitous concourse of atoms436. “He who believes this possible,” says he, “may [pg 247]as well believe, that if a great number of the one-and-twenty letters, composed either of gold, or any other metal, were thrown on the ground, they would fall into such order as legibly to form the Annals of Ennius. I doubt whether fortune could make a single verse of them.” He quotes a very beautiful passage from a now lost work of Aristotle, in which that philosopher urges the argument that may be deduced from providential design, with more soundness and imagination than are usual with him. Balbus then proceeds to display the marks of deliberate plan in the universe, beginning with astronomy. In treating of the constellations, he makes great use of Cicero’s poetical version of Aratus, much of which he is supposed, perhaps with little probability, or modesty in the author, to have by heart; and, accordingly, we are favoured with a considerable number of these verses. He also adduces manifold proofs of design and sovereign wisdom, from a consideration of plants, land animals, fishes, and the structure of the human body; a subject on which Cicero discovers more anatomical knowledge than one should have expected. Balbus also contends that the gods not only provide for mankind universally, but for individuals. “The frequent appearances of the gods,” he observes, “demonstrate their regard for cities and particular men. This, indeed, is also apparent from the foreknowledge of events, which we receive either sleeping or waking.”

In the third book of this very remarkable work, Cicero exhibits Cotta as refuting the doctrines of Balbus. “But before I enter on the subject,” says Cotta, “I have a word to say concerning myself; for I am greatly influenced by your authority, and your exhortation at the conclusion of your discourse, to remember I was Cotta, and Pontifex; by which, I presume, you intimated that I should defend the religion and ceremo[pg 248]nies which we received from our ancestors: Truly, I always have, and always will defend them, nor shall the arguments, either of the learned or unlearned, ever remove the opinions I have imbibed concerning the worship of the immortal gods. In matters of religion, I submit to the rules of the High Priests, T. Coruncanius, P. Scipio, and P. Scævola. These, Balbus,” continues he, “are my sentiments, both as a priest and Cotta. But you must bring me to your opinion by the force of your reason; for a philosopher should prove to me the religion he would have me embrace; but I must believe without proof the religion of our ancestors.”

A chasm here follows in the original, in which Cotta probably stated the reasons of his scepticism, in spite of the acts of the Senate, and so many public memorials of supernatural facts. “You believe,” continues Cotta, “that the Decii, in devoting themselves to death, appeased the gods. How great, then, was the iniquity of the gods, that they could not be appeased, but at the price of such noble blood!—As to the voice of the Fauns, I never heard it; if you assure me you have, I shall believe you; though I am absolutely ignorant what a Faun is. Truly, Balbus, you have not yet proved the existence of the gods. I believe it, indeed, but not from any arguments of the Stoics. Cleanthes, you said, attributes the idea that men have of the gods to four causes. The first is a foreknowledge of future events; the second,—tempests and other shocks of nature; the third,—the utility and plenty of things we enjoy; the fourth,—the invariable order of the stars and heavens. Foreknowledge I have already answered. With regard to tempests in the air, the sea, and the earth, I own, that many people are affrighted by them, and imagine that the immortal gods are the authors of them. But the question is not, whether there be people who believe there are gods, but whether there are gods or not. As to the two other causes of Cleanthes, one of which is derived from the plenty we enjoy, the other from the invariable order of the seasons and heavens, [pg 249]I shall treat on them when I answer your discourse concerning the providence of the gods.”

It seems likely that this profession or pretext, that the discourse is left unfinished, may (like the occasional apologies of Cotta) be introduced to save appearances437. It is evident, however, that Cicero intended to add, at least, new prefaces to the two latter books of this work, probably from suspecting, as he went on, that the discourses are too long to have taken place in one day, as they are now represented. Balbus says, in the second book, “Velut a te ipso, hesterno die dictum est438.” Fulvius Ursinus had remarked that this was an inadvertence, either in Cicero or a transcriber, as the discourse is continued throughout the same day. That it was not owing to a transcriber, or to any inadvertence in Cicero, but to a design of altering the introductions to the second and third books, appears from a passage in book third, where Cotta says to Balbus, “Omniaque, quæ a te nudiustertius dicta sunt439.” Now, it is extremely unlikely that there should have been two such instances of inadvertency in the author, or carelessness in the copyist.

The work on the Nature of the Gods, though in many respects a most valuable production, and a convincing proof of the extensive learning of its author, gives a melancholy picture of the state of his mind. Unfitted to bear adversity, and borne down by the calamities of his country, and the death of his beloved daughter, (misfortunes of which he often complains,) Cicero seems to have become a sceptic, and occasionally to have doubted even of a superintending Providence. Warburton appears to be right in supposing, that Cicero was advanced in years before he seriously adopted the sceptical opinions of the new Academy. “This farther appears,” says he, after some remarks on this head, “from a place in his Nature of the Gods, where he says, that his espousing the new Academy of a sudden, was a thing altogether unlooked for440. The change, then, was late, and after [pg 251]the ruin of the republic, when Cicero retired from business, and had leisure in his recess to plan and execute this noble undertaking. So that a learned critic appears to have been mistaken, when he supposed the choice of the new Academy was made in his youth. ‘This sect,’ says he, ‘did best agree with the vast genius, and ambitious spirit, of young Cicero441.’ ”

It appears not, however, to have been, as Warburton supposes, altogether from a systematic plan, of explaining to his countrymen the philosophy of the Greeks, that Cicero became a sceptic; but partly from gloomy views of nature and providence. It seems difficult otherwise to account for the circumstance, that Cotta, an ancient and venerable Consul, the Pontifex of the metropolis of the world, should be introduced as contending, even against an Epicurean, for the non-existence of the gods. Lord Bolingbroke has justly remarked, “that Cotta disputes so vehemently, and his arguments extend so far, that Tully makes his own brother accuse him directly, and himself by consequence indirectly, of atheism.—‘Studio contra Stoicos disserendi deos mihi videtur funditus tollere.’ Now, what says Tully in his own name? He tells his brother that Cotta disputes in that manner, rather to confute the Stoics than to destroy the religion of mankind.—‘Magis quam ut hominum deleat religionem.’ But Quintus answers, that is, Tully makes him answer, he was not the bubble of an artifice, employed to save the appearance of departing from the public religious institutions. ‘Ne communi jure migrare videatur442.’ ” Cotta, indeed, goes so far in his attack on Providence, that Lord Bolingbroke, who is not himself a model of orthodoxy, takes up the other side of the question against the Roman Pontiff, and pleads the cause of Providence with no little reason and eloquence.443

In the foregoing analysis, or abridgment of the work on the Nature of the Gods, it will have been remarked, that two chasms occur in the argument of Cotta. Olivet enters into some discussion with regard to the latter and larger chasm. “I cannot,” says he, “see any justice in the accusation against the primitive Christians, of having torn this passage out of all the MSS. What appearance is there, that through a pious motive they should have erased this any more than many others in the same book, which they must undoubtedly have looked upon [pg 252]as no less pernicious?” Olivet seems inclined to suspect the Pagans; but, in my opinion, the chasms in the discourse of Cotta, if not accidental, are to be attributed rather to Christian than pagan zeal. Arnobius, indeed, speaking of this work, says, That many were of opinion that it ought to have been destroyed by the Roman Senate, as the Christian faith might be approved by it, and the authority of antiquity subverted444. There is no evidence, however, that any such destruction or mutilation was attempted by the Pagans; and we find that the satire directed against the heathen deities has been permitted to remain, while the chasms intervene in portions of the work, which might have been supposed by a pious zealot, to bear, in some measure, against the Christian, as well as the Pagan faith. In the first of them, the Pontifex begins, and is proceeding to contend, that in spite of Acts of the Senate, temples, statues, and other commemorations of miraculous circumstances, all such prodigies were nothing but mere fables, however solemnly attested, or generally believed. Now, the transcriber might fear, lest a similar inference should be drawn by the sceptic, to that which has in fact been deduced by the English translator of this work, in the following passage of a note:—“Hence we see what little credit ought to be paid to facts, said to be done out of the ordinary course of nature. These miracles are well attested: They were recorded in the annals of a great people—believed by many learned and otherwise sagacious persons, and received as religious truths by the populace; but the testimonies of ancient records, the credulity of some learned men, and the implicit faith of the vulgar, can never prove that to have been, which is impossible in the nature of things ever to be.” At the beginning of the other and larger chasm, Cotta was proceeding to argue against the proposition of the Stoics, that there is a Divine Providence which governs the world. Now, there is a considerable analogy between the system of the ancient Stoics, and the Christian scheme of Providence, both in the theoretical doctrine, and in the practical inference, of the propriety of a cheerful and unqualified submission to the chain of events—to the dispensations of nature in the Stoical, and of God in the purer doctrine. To Christian zeal, therefore, rather than to pagan prudence, we must attribute the two chasms which now intervene in the discourse of Cotta.

In the remarks which have been now offered on this work, De Naturâ Deorum, I trust I have brought no unfounded or [pg 253]uncharitable accusation against Cicero. He was a person, at least in his own age and country, of unrivalled talents and learning—he was a great, and, on the whole, a good man—but his mind was sensitive, and feeble against misfortune. There are æras, and monuments perhaps in every æra, when we are ready to exclaim with Brutus, “That virtue is an empty name:” And the doubts and darkness of such a mind as that of Cicero, enriched with all the powers of genius, and all the treasures of philosophy, afford a new proof of the necessity for the appearance of that Divine Messenger, who was then on the eve of descending upon earth.

De Divinatione.—The long account which has been given of the dialogue on the Nature of the Gods, renders it unnecessary to say much on the work De Divinatione. This treatise may be considered, in some measure, as a supplement to that De Naturâ Deorum. The religion of the Romans consisted of two different branches—the worship of the gods, and the observation of the signs by which their will was supposed to be revealed. Cicero having already discussed what related to the nature and worship of the gods, a treatise on Divination formed a natural continuation of the subject445. In his work on this topic, which was one almost peculiar to the Romans, Cicero professes to relate the substance of a conversation held at Tusculum with his brother, in which Quintus, on the principles of the Stoics, supported the credibility of divination, while Cicero himself controverted it. The dialogue consists of two books, the first of which comprehends an enumeration by Quintus of the different kinds or classes of divination, with the reasons or presumptions in their favour. The second book contains a refutation by Cicero of his brother’s arguments.

Quintus, while walking with his brother in the Lyceum at Tusculum, begins his observations by stating, that he had read the third book which Cicero had lately written, on the Nature of the Gods, in which Cotta seemed to contend for atheism, but had by no means been able to refute Balbus. He remarks, at the same time, that the subject of divination had not been treated of in these books, perhaps in order that it might be separately discussed more fully, and that he would gladly, if his brother had leisure and inclination, state his own opinions on the subject. The answer of Cicero is very noble.—“Ego vero, inquam, Philosophiæ, Quinte, semper [pg 254]vaco. Hoc autem tempore, quum sit nihil aliud quod libenter agere possim multo magis aveo audire de divinatione quid sentias.”

Quintus, after observing that divinations of various kinds have been common among all people, remarks, and afterwards frequently repeats, that it is no argument against different modes of divination, that we cannot explain how or why certain things happen. It is sufficient, that we know from experience and history, that they do happen446. He contends that Cicero himself supports the doctrine of divination, in the poem on his Consulship, from which he quotes a long passage, sufficient to console us for the loss of that work. He argues, that although events may not always succeed as predicted, it does not follow that divination is not an art, more than that medicine is not an art, because cures may not always be effected. In the course of this book we have a complete account of the state contrivances which were practised by the Roman government, to instil among the people those hopes and fears whereby it regulated public opinion, in which view it has been justly termed a chapter in the history of man. The great charm, however, of the first book, consists in the number of histories adduced by Quintus, in proof of the truth of different kinds of omens, dreams, portents, and divinations.—“Negemus omnia,” says he, “comburamus annales.” He states various circumstances consistent with his and his brother’s own knowledge; and, among others, two remarkable dreams, one of which had occurred to Cicero, and one to himself. He asks if the Greek history be also a fable.—“Num etiam Græcorum historia mentita est?” and, in short, throughout takes the following high ground:—“Quid est, igitur, cur dubitandum sit, quin sint ea, quæ disputavi, verissima? Si ratio mecum facit, si eventa, si populi, si nationes, si Græci, si barbari, si majores etiam nostri, si summi philosophi, si poetæ, et sapientissimi viri qui res publicas constituerunt, qui urbes condiderunt; si denique hoc semper ita putatum est: an dum bestiæ loquantur, expectamus, hominum consentiente auctoritate, contenti non sumus447?”

The second book of this work is introduced by a preface, in which Cicero enumerates the philosophical treatises which he had lately written. He then proceeds to state, that at the conclusion of the discourse of Quintus, which was held while they were walking in the Lyceum, they sat down in the library, and he began to reply to his brother’s arguments. His commencement is uncommonly beautiful.—“Atque ego; Accurate tu [pg 255]quidem, inquam, Quinte, et Stoice Stoicorum sententiam defendisti: quodque me maxime delectat, plurimis nostris exemplis usus es, et iis quidem claris et illustribus. Dicendum est mihi igitur ad ea, quæ sunt a te dicta, sed ita, nihil ut affirmem, quæram omnia, dubitans plerumque, et mihi ipse diffidens448.” It is unnecessary to give any summary of the arguments of Cicero against auguries, auspices, astrology, lots, dreams, and every species of omens and prodigies. His discourse is a masterpiece of reasoning; and if sufficiently studied during the dark ages of Europe, would have sufficed, in a great degree, to have prevented or dispelled the superstitious gloom. Nothing can be finer than the concluding chapter on the evils of superstition, and Cicero’s efforts to extirpate it, without injuring religion. The whole thread, too, of his argumentative eloquence, is interwoven and strengthened by curious and interesting stories. As a specimen of the agreeable manner in which these are introduced, the twenty-fourth chapter may be cited:—“Vetus autem illud Catonis admodum scitum est, qui mirari se aiebat, quod non rideret haruspex, haruspicem quum vidisset. Quota enim quæque res evenit prædicta ab ipsis? Aut si evenit quippiam, quid afferri potest, cur non casu id evenerit? Rex Prusias, quum Annibali apud eum exsulanti depugnari placeret, negabat se audere, quod exta prohiberent. An tu, inquit, carunculæ vitulinæ mavis, quam imperatori veteri, credere? Quid? Ipse Cæsar, quum a summo haruspice moneretur, ne in Africam ante brumam transmitteret, nonne transmisit? Quod ni fecisset, uno in loco omnes adversariorum copiæ convenissent. Quid ego haruspicum responsa commemorem, (possum equidem innumerabilia,) quæ aut nullos habuerunt exitus, aut contrarios? Hoc civili bello, Dii Immortales! Quam multa luserunt—quæ nobis in Græciam Româ responsa haruspicum missa sunt? Quæ dicta Pompeio? Etenim ille admodum extis et ostentis movebatur. Non lubet commemorare, nec vero necesse est, tibi præsertim, qui interfuisti. Vides tamen, omnia fere contra, ac dicta sunt, evenisse.” One great charm of all the philosophical works of Cicero, and particularly of this treatise, consists in the anecdotes with which they abound. This practice of intermingling histories, might have been partly owing to Tully’s habits as a pleader—partly to the works having been composed in “narrative old age.” His moral conclusions seem thus occasionally to have the certainty of physical experiments, by the support which they receive from occurrences, suggested to him by his wide experience; while, at the same time,—

De Fato.—This tract, which is the last of Cicero’s philosophical works, treats of a subject which occupied as important a place in the metaphysics and theology of the ancients, as free will and necessity have filled in modern speculation. The dialogue De Fato is held in the villa of Cicero, called the Puteolan or the Academia, which was situated on the shore of Baiæ, between the lake Avernus and the harbour of Puteoli. It stood in the curve of the bay, and almost on the beach, so as to enjoy the breezes and murmurs of the sea. The house was built according to the plan of the Academy at Athens, being adorned with a portico and grove, for the purposes of philosophical conference450; and with a gallery, which surrounded a square court in the centre. “Twelve or thirteen arches of the Puteolan villa,” says Mr Kelsall, “are still seen on the side next the vineyard, and, intermixed as they are with trees, are very picturesque seen from the sea. These ruins are about one mile from Pozzuolo, and have always been styled l’Academia di Cicerone. Pliny is very circumstantial in the description of the site, ‘Ab Averno lacu Puteolos tendentibus imposita littori.’ The classical traveller will not forget that the Puteolan villa is the scene of some of the orator’s philosophical works. I searched in vain for the mineral spring commemorated by Laurea Tullius, in the well-known complimentary verses preserved by Pliny; for it was defaced by the convulsions which the whole of this tract experienced in the 16th century, so poetically described in Gray’s hexameters.” After the death of Cicero, the villa was acquired by Antistius Vetus, who repaired and improved it. It was subsequently possessed by the Emperor Hadrian, who, while expiring here451, breathed out the celebrated address to his fleeting, fluttering soul, on its approaching departure for those cold and pallid regions, that must have formed in his fancy such a gloomy contrast to the glowing sunshine and animated shore which he left with so much reluctance.

The dialogue is held between Cicero and Hirtius, on one of the many occasions on which they met to consult concerning the situation of public affairs. Hirtius was the author of [pg 257]the Commentaries on the Civil Wars, and perished a few months afterwards, at the battle of Modena, in the moment of victory. The wonderful events which had recently occurred, and the miserable fate of so many of the greatest and most powerful of the Romans, naturally introduced a conversation on destiny. We have now neither the commencement nor conclusion of the dialogue; but some critics have supposed that it originally consisted of two books, and that the fragment we at present possess formed part of the second book—an opinion which seems justified by a passage in the seventeenth chapter of the second book, where the first conversation is cited. Others, however, refer these words to a separate and previous work on Fate. The part of the dialogue now extant, contains a refutation of the doctrine of Chrysippus the Stoic, which was that of fatality. “The spot,” says Eustace, “the subject, the speakers, both fated to perish in so short a time, during the contest which they both foresaw, and endeavoured in vain to avert, were circumstances which give a peculiar interest to this dialogue, and increase our regret that it has not reached us in a less mutilated state452.”

I have now enumerated what may be strictly regarded as the philosophical and theological writings of Cicero. Some of the advantages to be derived from these productions, have already been pointed out during our progress. But on a consideration of the whole, it is manifest that the chief profit accruing from them, is the satisfactory evidence which they afford of the little reason we have to regret the loss of the writings of Zeno, Cleanthes, Chrysippus, and other Greek philosophers. The intrinsic value of these works of Cicero, consists chiefly in what may be called the Roman portion of them—in the anecdotes of distinguished Romans, and of the customs and opinions of that sovereign people.

We now proceed to the moral writings of Cicero, of which the most important is the work De Officiis. The ancient Romans had but an imperfect notion of moral obligations; their virtues were more stern than amiable, and their ardent exclusive patriotism restricted the wide claims of philanthropy, on the one hand, and of domestic duties, on the other. Panætius, a Greek philosopher, who resided at Rome, in the time of Scipio, wrote a book entitled Περι Καθηκοντος. He divided his subject according to the threefold considerations which he conceived should operate in determining our resolutions with regard to the performance of moral duties; 1. Whether the thing itself be virtuous or shameful; 2. Whether it conduce to [pg 258]utility and the enjoyment of life; 3. What choice is to be made when an apparent utility seems to clash with virtue. Cicero followed nearly the same arrangement. In the first book he treats of what is virtuous in itself, and shows in what manner our duties are founded in morality and virtue—in the right perception of truth, justice, fortitude, and decorum; which four qualities are referred to as the constituent parts of virtue, and the sources from which all our duties are drawn. In the second book, the author enlarges on those duties which relate to utility, the improvement of life, and the means employed for the attainment of wealth and power. This division of the work principally regards political advancement, and the honourable means of gaining popularity, as generosity, courtesy, and eloquence. Thus far Cicero had, in all probability, closely followed the steps of Panætius. Garve, in his commentary on this work453, remarks, that it is quite clear, when he comes to the more subtle and philosophic parts of his subject, that Cicero translates from the Greek, and that he has not always found words in his own language to express the nicer distinctions of the Greek schools. The work of Panætius, however, was left imperfect, and did not treat of the third part of the subject, the choice and distinction to be made when there was a jarring or inconsistency between virtue and utility. On this topic, accordingly, Cicero was left to his own resources. The discussion, of course, relates only to the subordinate duties, as the true and undoubted honestum never can be put in competition with private advantage, or be violated for its sake. As to the minor duties, the great maxim inculcated is that nothing should be accounted useful or profitable but what is strictly virtuous, and that, in fact, there ought to be no separation of the principles of virtue and utility. Cicero enters into some discussion, however, and affords some rules to enable us to form a just estimate of both in cases of doubt, where seeming utility comes into competition with virtue. Accordingly, he proposes and decides a good many questions in casuistry, in order to fix in what situations one may seek private gain with honour. He takes his examples from Roman history, and particularly considers the case of Regulus in the obligation of his oath, and the advice which he gave to the Roman Senate. The author disclaims having been indebted to any preceding writers on this subject; but it appears, from what he afterwards states, that the sixth book of the work of Hecato, a scholar of Panætius, was full of ques[pg 259]tions of this kind: As, for example—If something must be thrown into the sea to lighten a vessel in a storm, whether one should sacrifice a valuable horse, or a worthless slave? Whether, if, during a shipwreck, a fool has got hold of a plank, a wise man ought to take it from him, if he be able? If one, unknowingly, receives bad money for his goods, may he pay it away to a third hand, after he is aware that it is bad? Diogenes, it seems, one of the three philosophic ambassadors who came to Rome from Athens, in the end of the sixth century, maintained the affirmative of this last proposition.

The subject being too extensive for dialogue, (the form of his other philosophical treatises,) the author has addressed the work De Officiis to his son, and has represented it as written for his instruction. “It is,” says Kelsall, “the noblest present ever made by a parent to a child.” Cicero declares, that he intended to treat in it of all the duties454; but it is generally considered to have been chiefly drawn up as a manual of political morality, and as a guide to young Romans of his son’s age and distinction, which might enable them to attain political eminence, and to tread with innocence and safety “the slippery steeps of power.”

De Senectute.——