Caesar, in their oratorical attempts, fell short of themselves.  Their warmest admirers acknowledge the fact, nor is there an instance to the contrary, unless we except Caesar’s speech for Decius the Samnite [f], and that of Brutus for king [g] Dejotarus.  But are those performances, and some others of the same lukewarm temper, to be received as works of genius?  He who admires those productions, may be left to admire their verses also.  For verses they both made, and sent them into the world, I will not say, with more success than Cicero, but certainly more to their advantage; for their poetry had the good fortune to be little known.

Asinius lived near our own times [h].  He, seems to have studied in the old school of Menenius and Appius.  He composed tragedies as well as orations, but in a style so harsh and ragged, that one would think him the disciple of Accius and Pacuvius.  He mistook the nature of eloquence, which may then be said to have attained its true beauty, when the parts unite with smoothness, strength, and proportion.  As in the human body the veins should not swell too high, nor the bones and sinews appear too prominent; but its form is then most graceful, when a pure and temperate blood gives animation [i] to the whole frame; when the muscles have their proper play, and the colour of health is diffused over the several parts.  I am not willing to disturb the memory of Corvinus Messala [k].  If he did not reach the graces of modern composition, the defect does not seem to have sprung from choice.  The vigour of his genius was not equal to his judgement.

XXII.  I now proceed to Cicero, who, we find, had often upon his hands the very controversy, that engages us at present.  It was the fashion with his contemporaries to admire the ancients, while he, on the contrary, contended for the eloquence of his own time.  Were I to mention the quality that placed him at the head of his rivals I should say it was the solidity of his judgement.  It was he that first shewed a taste for polished and graceful oratory.  He was happy in his choice of words, and he had the art of giving weight and harmony to his composition.  We find in many passages a warm imagination, and luminous sentences.  In his later speeches, he has lively sallies of wit and fancy.  Experience had then matured his judgement, and after long practice, he found the true oratorical style.  In his earlier productions we see the rough cast of antiquity.  The exordium is tedious; the narration is drawn into length; luxuriant passages are not retouched with care; he is not easily affected, and he rarely takes fire; his sentiments are not always happily expressed [a], nor are the periods closed with energy.  There is nothing so highly finished, as to tempt you to avail yourself of a borrowed beauty.  In short, his speeches are like a rude building, which is strong and durable, but wants that grace and consonance of parts which give symmetry and perfection to the whole.