Marcus Tullius Cicero: Selected Works

Although I didn't find this selection of works particularly pithy or epigrammatic, I nonetheless came away from it considerably moved.  It's easy to see from the structure of his works why Cicero is considered one of the fathers of modern rhetoric.  The structures and devices he uses feel perfectly modern, and would not be out of place on the floor of Parliament or a Presidential debate.  And like most of that sort of thing, it is the effect of what is said, rather than any particular point, which lingers in the memory.  Cicero himself seems to acknowledge that he is offering no new thought, but merely putting existing ideas into a nice package.

In spite of all that, I put the book down with the feeling of being personally admonished by a great man. 

What good have I really accomplished in life?  My father recently told me that, out of his children, I was the one whom he felt had done the most real good in the world.  I was surprised at this, not because my brother and sister are great philanthropists, but because I don't think of myself as having contributed in any meaningful way to the rest of society.  There are no doubt some few students whom I, In my years as a public school teacher, was able to help.  I count this as nibbling at the edges of good, and not any  great credit to me.  I do what I can, and I am admittedly invested in the welfare of those around me, but I don't feel like any marginal difference I might have made even tips the scale against some of my rather foolish and harmful decisions. 

And even if life were not measured in a grand ledger of good accomplished versus harm done, how would I fare when measured against Cicero's standard of virtue:  wisdom, fortitude, justice and temperance?  It would be disingenuous of me to deny that I have accrued some wisdom over my lifetime--a combination of copious reading and the ability to piece things together in a logical way.  I don't think I can allow myself to say that the remaining three virtues have found a home in me.  I have behaved unjustly--not often, but seriously.  My fortitude is marginal, and my temperance nonexistent.  What in me is there worth admiring?  My father seems to think there is something worthy in me, but surely his judgement is less than objective.  I could wish that he were more like Cicero, in fact: to be able to see my worst qualities, and give me sound advice on their remedy. 

As it is, I will have to make use of the burst of motivation I received from Cicero, thousands of years after his death, to make some small adjustment in my habits before it wears out.  Or at least, as the determination he has given me fades, to revisit his writings and be stimulated once again by this great rhetorician.