. 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.

In oratory, as in architecture, I require ornament as well as use.
From the man of ample fortune, who undertakes to build, we expect
elegance and proportion. It is not enough that his house will keep out
the wind and the rain; it must strike the eye, and present a pleasing
object. Nor will it suffice that the furniture may answer all domestic
purposes; it should be rich, fashionable, elegant; it should have gold
and gems so curiously wrought, that they will bear examination, often
viewed, and always admired. The common utensils, which are either mean
or sordid, should be carefully removed out of sight. In like manner,
the true orator should avoid the trite and vulgar. Let him reject the
antiquated phrase, and whatever is covered with the rust of time; let
his sentiments be expressed with spirit, not in careless,
ill-constructed, languid periods, like a dull writer of annals; let
him banish low scurrility, and, in short, let him know how to
diversify his style, that he may not fatigue the ear with a monotony,
ending for ever with the same unvaried cadence [b].

XXIII. I shall say nothing of the false wit, and insipid play upon
words, which we find in Cicero's orations. His pleasant conceits about
the _wheel of fortune_ [a], and the arch raillery on the equivocal
meaning of the word _verres_ [b], do not merit a moment's attention. I
omit the perpetual recurrence of the phrase, _esse videatur_ [c],
which chimes in our ears at the close of s