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 so many sentences, sounding
big, but signifying nothing. These are petty blemishes; I mention them
with reluctance. I say nothing of other defects equally improper: and
yet those very defects are the delight of such as affect to call
themselves ancient orators. I need not single them out by name: the
men are sufficiently known; it is enough to allude, in general terms,
to the whole class.

We all are sensible that there is a set of critics now existing, who
prefer Lucilius [d] to Horace, and Lucretius [e] to Virgil; who