him, committed his orations to writing after their delivery, and gave them to the world. These speeches are public documents which were a living force in the practical politics of Rome; we must not expect absolute candour in words thus spoken and written for a purpose; but it is much to know what were the assertions, the sentiments, and the reasonings which rang in the ears of the Romans themselves at this momentous crisis of their fate. Still more important for the purpose of our story are the private letters, and especially the letters to Atticus. We have before us the very words in which Cicero recorded his thoughts from day to day in all the confidence of intimate friendship. Cicero was not a man of cool and cautious temperament, afraid to commit himself to opinions, accurately weighing and discounting probabilities beforehand, or occupying by anticipation the province of the philosophical historian. From the letters of such a one we should have learnt comparatively little. We have to deal with a man of lively mind, quick to receive impressions, rushing to conclusions, garrulous in expression, and sensitively responsive to the prevailing temper or drift of opinion. In communing with Atticus he never pauses to make his writing self-consistent or plausible. Reasons "plentiful as blackberries" crowd through his mind as he writes, and the reasons of to-day will often not fit in with those of yesterday. There is no reticence, no economy of statement; every passing fancy, every ebullition of temper, every varying mood of exultation and depression, every momentary view of men and
