and the best in erudition--did think that, with the old forms, the old
virtue would come back. Pompey thought so, and Cicero. Cato thought
so, and Brutus. Caesar, when he came to think about it, thought the
reverse. But even now to us, looking back with so many things made
clear to us, with all the convictions which prolonged success
produces, it is doubtful whether some other milder change--some such
change as Cicero would have advocated--might not have prevented
the tyranny of Augustus, the mysteries of Tiberius, the freaks of
Caligula, the folly of Claudius, and the madness of Nero.

It is an uphill task, that of advocating the cause of a man who
has failed. The Caesars of the world are they who make interesting
stories. That Cicero failed in the great purpose of his life has to be
acknowledged. He had studied the history of his country, and was aware
that hitherto the world had produced nothing so great as Roman power;
and he knew that Rome had produced true patriotism. Her Consuls, her
Censors, her Tribunes, and her Generals had, as a rule, been true to
Rome, serving their country, at any rate till of late years, rather
than themselves. And he believed that liberty had existed in Rome,
though nowhere else. It would be well if we could realize the idea of
liberty which Cicero entertained. Liberty was very dear to him--dear
to him not only as enjoying it himself, but as a privilege for the
enjoyment of others. But it was only the liberty of a few. Half the
population of the Roman cities were slaves, and in Cicero's time
the freedom of the city, which he regarded as necessary to liberty,
belonged only to a small proportion of the population of Italy. It was
the liberty of a small privileged class for which he was anxious. That
a Sicilian should be free under a Roman Proconsul, as a Roman citizen
was entitled to be, was abhorrent to his doctrine. The idea of
cosmopolitan freedom--an idea which exists with us, but is not common