poets had told his countrymen that to other nations had been granted, in a measure denied to them, the arts of the sculptor and the painter, of the natural philosopher, nay, even of eloquence itself. But the lot assigned by the poet to the Roman people was to govern the human race, to lower the haughty, to spare the humble, to promote and cherish peace; and among the instruments by which their destiny would be accomplished, a liberal eloquence was not the least effective.
The discipline of the orator, indeed, was scarcely less severe in the good old times than that which qualified the soldier for his duties in war. "Military exercises were the important and unremitted object of the discipline of the legions. The recruits and young soldiers were constantly trained, both in the morning and in the evening, nor was age or knowledge allowed to excuse the veterans from the daily repetition of what they had completely learnt."[1] Even Cicero, when at the zenith of his fame, did not permit himself to forego the exercises of his assiduous youth; and the wary Augustus prepared for his speeches to the senate by declamation in his closet. "The orator," proceeds Messala, "was a real combatant matched and mated with an earnest antagonist, not a gladiator in a mock contest, fighting for a prize. His was a struggle for victory, before an audience always changing, yet always 'frequent and full.'" He addressed enemies as well as admirers, and both were severe critics of his merits or defects. In this clash of opinions the true orator flourished. He did not depend on the plaudits of the benches occupied by his friends only, but on the cheers extorted by him from those on which his oppo-
