ry former age, but to
the whole race that came after them. Nor is it material that they
differ in the mode, since they all agree in the kind. Calvus is close
and nervous; Asinius more open and harmonious; Caesar is distinguished
[b] by the splendour of his diction; Caelius by a caustic severity; and
gravity is the characteristic of Brutus. Cicero is more luxuriant in
amplification, and he has strength and vehemence. They all, however,
agree in this: their eloquence is manly, sound, and vigorous. Examine
their works, and you will see the energy of congenial minds, a
family-likeness in their genius, however it may take a distinct colour
from the specific qualities of the men. True, they detracted from each
other's merit. In their letters, which are still extant, we find some
strokes of mutual hostility. But this littleness does not impeach
their eloquence: their jealousy was the infirmity of human nature.
Calvus, Asinius, and Cicero, might have their fits of animosity, and,
no doubt, were liable to envy, malice, and other degrading passions:
they were great orators, but they were men.

Brutus is the only one of the set, who may be thought superior to
petty contentions. He spoke his mind with freedom, and, I believe,
without a tincture of malice. He did not envy Caesar himself, and can
it be imagined that he envied Cicero? As to Galba [c], Laelius, and
others of a remote period, against whom we have heard Aper's
declamation, I need not undertake their defence, since I am willing to
acknowledge, that in their style and manner we perceive those defects
and blemishes which it is natural to expect, while art, as yet in its
infancy, has made no advances towards perfection.

XXVI. After all, if the best form of eloquence must be abandoned, and
some, new-fangled style must grow into fashion, give me the rapidity
of Gracchus [a], or the more solemn manner of Crassus [b], with all
their imperfections, rather than the effeminate delicacy of [c]
Maecenas, or the tinkling cymbal [d] of Gallio. The most homely dress
is preferable to gawdy colours and meretricious ornaments. The style
in vogue at present, is an innovation, against every thing just and
natural; it is not even manly. The luxuriant phrase, the inanity of
tuneful periods, and the wanton levity of the whole composition, are
fit for nothing but the histrionic art, as if they were written for
the stage. To the disgrace of the age (however astonishing it may
appear), it is