It is this personality, as it were, which gives a special interest to the Ciceronian philosophy. The reflexion of his personal character which pervades it rescues it from the imputation of being a mere transcript of his Greek originals. Cicero brings everything as much as possible to a practical standard. If the question arises between the study of morals and politics and that of physics or metaphysics, he decides in favour of the former, on the grounds that the latter transcends the capacities of the human intellect;[[848]] that in morals and politics we are under obligations from which in physics we are free; that we are bound to tear ourselves from these abstract studies at the call of duty to our country or our fellow-creatures, even if we were able to count the stars or measure the magnitude of the universe.[[849]] In the didactic method which he pursues he bears in mind that he is dealing not with contemplative philosophers, or minds that have been logically trained, but with statesmen and men of the world; he does not therefore claim too much, or make his lessons too hard, and is always ready to sacrifice scientific system to a method of popular instruction. His object seems to be to recommend the subject—to smoothe difficulties, and illustrate obscurities. He evidently admires the exalted purity of Stoical morality; and the principles of that sect are those which he endeavours to impress upon his son.[[850]] His only fear is that their system is impracticable.[[851]]
Cicero believed in the existence of one supreme Creator and Governor of the universe, and also in His spiritual nature;[[852]] but his belief is rather the result of instinctive conviction, than of the proofs derived from philosophy; for as to them, he is, as on other points, uncertain and wavering. He disbelieved the popular mythical religion; but, uncertain as to what was the truth, he would not have that disturbed which he looked upon as a political engine.[[853]] Amidst the doubtful and conflicting reasons, respecting the human soul and man’s eternal destiny, there is no doubt that, although he finds no satisfactory proof, he is a believer in immortality.[[854]] It is unnecessary to pursue the subject of his philosophical creed any further, because it is not a system, but only a collection of precepts, not of investigations. Its materials are borrowed, its illustrations alone novel. But, nevertheless, the study of Cicero’s philosophical works is invaluable, in order to understand the minds of those who came after him. It must not be forgotten, that not only all Roman philosophy after his time, but a great part of that of the middle ages, was Greek philosophy filtered through Latin, and mainly founded on that of Cicero. Cicero’s works on speculative philosophy generally consist of—(1.) The Academics, or a history and defence of the belief of the New Academy. (2.) The De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum, dialogues on the supreme good, the end of all moral action. (3.) The Tusculanæ Disputationes, containing five independent treatises on the fear of death, the endurance of pain, the power of wisdom over sorrow, the morbid passions, the relation of virtue to happiness. In these treatises Stoicism predominates, although opinions are adduced from the whole range of Greek philosophy. (4.) Paradoxa, in which the six celebrated Stoical paradoxies are touched upon in a light and amusing manner. (5.) A dialogue in praise of philosophy, named after Hortensius. (6.) Translations of the Timæus and Protagoras of Plato. Of these last three treatises only a few fragments remain.
His moral philosophy comprehends—(1.) The De Officiis, a Stoical treatise on moral obligations, addressed to his son Marcus, at that time a student at Athens. (2.) The unequalled little essays on Friendship and Old Age. A few words also are preserved of two books on Glory, addressed to Atticus; and one which he wrote on the Alleviation of Grief when bereaved of his beloved daughter.[[855]] He left one theological work in three parts: the first part is on the “Nature of the Gods;” the second on the “Science of Divination;” the third on “Fate,” of which an inconsiderable fragment is extant. His office of augur probably suggested to him the composition of these treatises.
His political works are two in number—the De Republica[[856]] and De Legibus; both are imperfect. The remains of the former are only fragmentary; of the latter, three out of six books are extant, and those not entire. Nevertheless, sufficient of both remains to enable us to form some estimate of their philosophical character. Although he does not profess originality, but confesses that they are imitations of the two treatises of Plato, which bear the same name, still they are more inductive than any of his other treatises. His purpose is, like that of Plato, to give in the one an ideal republic, and in the other a sketch of a model legislation; but the novelty of the treatment consists in their principles being derived from the Roman constitution and the Roman laws.
The questions which he proposes to answer are, what is the best government and the best code: but the limits within which he confines himself are the institutions of his country. In the Republic he first discusses, like the Greek philosophers, the merits and demerits of the three pure forms of government; and upon the whole decides in favour of monarchy[[857]] as the best. With Aristotle[[858]] he agrees that all the pure forms are liable to degenerate,[[859]] and comes to the conclusion that the idea of a perfect polity is a combination of all three.[[860]] In order to prove and illustrate his theory, he investigates, though it must be confessed in a meager and imperfect manner, the constitutional history of Rome, and discovers the monarchical element in the consulship, the aristocratic in the senate, and the popular in the assembly of the people and the tribunitial authority.
The Romans continued jealously to preserve the shadow of their constitution even after they had surrendered the substance. Nominally, the titles and offices of the old republic never perished—the Emperor was in name nothing more than (Imperator) the commander-in-chief of the armies of the republic, but in him all power centred: he was absolute, autocratic, the chief of a military despotism.[[861]] Cicero, as the treatise De Legibus plainly shows, saw, with approbation, that this state of things was rapidly coming to pass; that the people were not fitted to be trusted with liberty, and yet that they would be contented with its semblance and name.
The method which he pursues, is, firstly, to treat the subject in the abstract, and to investigate the nature of law; and, secondly, to propose an ideal code, limited by the principles of Roman jurisprudence. Thus Cicero’s polity and code were not Utopian—the models on which they were formed had a real tangible existence. His was the system of a practical man, as the Roman constitution was that of a practical people. It was not like Greek liberty, the realization of one single idea; it was like that of England, the growth of ages, the development of a long train of circumstances, and expedients, and experiments, and emergencies. Cicero prudently acquiesced in the ruin of liberty as a stern necessity; but he evidently thought that Rome had attained the zenith of its national greatness immediately before the agitations of the Gracchi.
Both these works are written in the engaging form of dialogues. In the one, Scipio Æmilianus, Lælius, Scævola, and others, meet together in the Latin holidays (Feriæ Latinæ,) and discuss the question of government. In the other, the writer himself, with his brother Quintus and Atticus, converse on jurisprudence whilst they saunter on a little islet near Arpinum at the confluence of the Liris and Fibrena.
We must, lastly, contemplate Cicero as a correspondent. This intercourse of congenial minds separated from one another, and induced by the force of circumstances to digest and arrange their thoughts in their communication, forms one of the most delightful and interesting, and at the same time one of the most characteristic, portions of Roman literature. A Roman thought that whenever he put pen to paper it was his duty, to a certain extent, to avoid carelessness and offences against good taste, and to bestow upon his friend some portion of that elaborate attention which, as an author, he would devote to the public eye. In fact the letter-writer was almost addressing the same persons as the author; for the latter wrote for the approbation of his friends, the circle of intimates in which he lived: the approbation of the public was a secondary object. The Greeks were not writers of letters: the few which we possess were mere written messages, containing such necessary information as the interruption of intercourse demanded. There was no interchange of hopes and fears, thoughts, sentiments, and feelings.
The extent of Cicero’s correspondence is almost incredible: even those epistles which remain form a very voluminous collection—more than eight hundred are extant. The letters to his friends and acquaintances (ad Familiares) occupy sixteen books; those to Atticus sixteen more; and we have besides three books of letters to Quintus, and one to Brutus; but the authenticity of this last collection is somewhat doubtful. It is quite clear that none of them were intended for publication, as those of Pliny and Seneca were. They are elegant without stiffness, the natural outpourings of a mind which could not give birth to an ungraceful idea. When speaking of the perilous and critical politics of the day, more or less restraint and reserve are apparent, according to the intimacy with the person whom he is addressing, but no attempt at pompous display. His style is so simple that the reader forgets that Cicero ever wrote or delivered an oration. There is the eloquence of the heart, not of the rhetoric school. Every subject is touched upon which could interest the statesman, the man of letters, the admirer of the fine arts, or the man of the world. The writer reveals in them his own motives, his secret springs of actions, his loves, his hatreds, his strength, his weakness. They extend over more than a quarter of a century, the most interesting period of his own life, and one of the most critical in the history of his country. The letters to Quintus are those of an elder brother to one who stood in great need of good advice. Although Quintus was not deserving of his brother’s affection, M. Cicero was warmly attached to him, and took an interest in his welfare. Quintus was proprætor of Asia, and not fitted for the office; and Cicero was not sparing in his admonitions, though he offered them with kindness and delicacy. The details of his family concerns form not the least interesting portion of this correspondence. There is, as might be expected, more reserve in the letters ad Familiares than in those addressed to Atticus. They are written to a variety of correspondents, of every shade and complexion of opinions, many of them mere acquaintances, not intimate friends; but whilst, for this reason, less historically valuable, they are the most pleasing of the collection, on account of the exquisite elegance of their style. They are models of pure Latinity. In the letters to Atticus, on the other hand, he lays bare the secrets of his heart; he trusts his life in his hands; he is not only his friend but his confidant, his second self. Were it not for the letters of Cicero, we should have had but a superficial knowledge of this period of Roman history, as well as of the inner life of Roman society.