uncouth, and harsh; and yet your Calvus [c], your Caelius, and even your favourite Cicero, condescend to follow that inelegant style.  It were to be wished that they had not thought such models worthy of imitation.  I mean to speak my mind with freedom; but before I proceed, it will be necessary to make a preliminary observation, and it is this:  Eloquence has no settled form:  at different times it puts on a new garb, and changes with the manners and the taste of the age.  Thus we find, that Gracchus [d], compared with the elder Cato [e], is full and copious; but, in his turn, yields to Crassus [f], an orator more polished, more correct, and florid.  Cicero rises superior to both; more animated, more harmonious and sublime.  He is followed by Corvinus [g], who has all the softer graces; a sweet flexibility in his style, and a curious felicity in the choice of his words.  Which was the greatest orator, is not the question.

The use I make of these examples, is to prove that eloquence does not always wear the same dress, but, even among your celebrated ancients, has its different modes of persuasion.  And be it remembered, that what differs is not always the worst.  Yet such is the malignity of the human mind, that what has the sanction of antiquity is always admired; what is present, is sure to be condemned.  Can we doubt that there have been critics, who were better pleased with Appius Caecus [h] than with Cato?  Cicero had his adversaries [i]:  it was objected to him, that his style was redundant, turgid, never compressed, void of precision, and destitute of Attic elegance.  We all have read the letters of Calvus and Brutus to your famous orator.  In the course of that correspondence, we plainly see what was Cicero’s opinion of those eminent men.  The former [k] appeared to him cold and languid; the latter [l], disjointed, loose, and negligent.  On the other hand, we know what they thought in return:  Calvus did not hesitate to say, that Cicero was diffuse luxuriant to a fault, and florid without vigour.  Brutus, in express terms, says, he was weakened into length, and wanted sinew.  If you ask my opinion, each of them had reason on his side.  I shall hereafter examine them separately.  My business at present, is not in the detail:  I speak of them in general terms.

XIX.  The aera of ancient oratory is, I think, extended by its admirers no farther back than the time of Cassius Severus [a].  He, they tell us, was the first who dared to deviate from the plain and simple style of his predecessors.  I admit the fact.  He departed from the established forms, not through want of genius, or of learning, but guided by his own good sense and superior judgement.  He saw that the public ear was formed to a new manner; and eloquence, he knew, was to find new approaches to the heart.  In the early periods of the commonwealth, a rough unpolished people might well be satisfied with the tedious length of unskilful speeches, at a time when to make an harangue that took up the whole day,