especially to a religious man! Chrysostom could
support _his_ exile with dignity; for Christianity had abolished the
superstitions of Greece and Rome as to household gods. Cicero could not:
he was not great enough for such a martyrdom. It is true we should have
esteemed him higher, had he accepted his fate with resignation: no man
should yield to despair. Had he been as old as Socrates, and had he
accomplished his mission, possibly he would have shown more equanimity.
But his work was not yet done. He was cut off in his prime and in the
midst of usefulness from his home, his religion, his family, his honor,
and his influence; he was utterly ruined. I think the critics make too
much of the grief and misery of Cicero in his banishment. We may be
disappointed that Cicero was not equal to his circumstances; but we need
not be hard on him. My surprise is, not that he was overwhelmed with
grief, but that he did not attempt to drown his grief in books and
literature. His sole relief was in pathetic and unmanly letters.

The great injustice of this punishment naturally produced a reaction.
Nor could the Romans afford to lose the services of their greatest
orator. They also craved the excitement of his speeches, more thrilling
and delightful than the performance of any actor. So he was recalled.
Cicero ought to have anticipated this; it seems, however, he had that
unfortunate temperament which favors alternate depression and
exhilaration of spirits, without measure or reason.

His return was a triumph,--a grand ovation, an unbounded tribute to his
vanity. His palace was rebuilt at the expense of the State, and his
property was restored. His popularity was regained. In fact, his
influence was never lost; and, because it was so great, his enemies
wished him out of the way. He was one of the few who retain influence
after they have lost power.

The excess of his joy on his restoration to home and friends and
property and fame and position, was as great as the excess of his grief
in his short exile. But this is a defect in temperament, in his mental
constitution, rather than a flaw in his character. We could have wished
more placidity and equanimity; but to condemn him because he was not
great in everything is unjust.

On his return to Rome Cicero resumed his practice in the courts with
greater devotion than ever. He was now past fifty years of age, in the
prime of his strength and in the height of his forensic fame. But,
notwi