words, introduced out of season, stand out like deformities and
blots on the diction.

4
These details might have been given in one or two broad strokes, as when
he speaks of mounds being heaped together. So in dealing with the other
preparations he might have told us of "waggons and camels and a long
train of baggage animals loaded with all kinds of supplies for the
luxury and enjoyment of the table," or have mentioned "piles of grain of
every species, and of all the choicest delicacies required by the art of
the cook or the taste of the epicure," or (if he must needs be so very
precise) he might have spoken of "whatever dainties are supplied by
those who lay or those who dress the banquet."

5
In our sublimer efforts we should never stoop to what is sordid and
despicable, unless very hard pressed by some urgent necessity. If we
would write becomingly, our utterance should be worthy of our theme. We
should take a lesson from nature, who when she planned the human frame
did not set our grosser parts, or the ducts for purging the body, in our
face, but as far as she could concealed them, "diverting," as Xenophon
says, "those canals as far as possible from our senses,"[2] and thus
shunning in any part to mar the beauty of the whole creature.

[Footnote 2: _Mem._ i. 4. 6.]

6
However, it is not incumbent on us to specify and enumerate whatever
diminishes a style. We have now pointed out the various means of giving
it nobility and loftiness. It is clear, then, that whatever is contrary
to these will generally degrade and deform it.

XLIV

There is still another point which remains to be cleared up, my dear
Terentian, and on which I shall not hesitate to add some remarks, to
gratify your inquiring spirit. It relates to a question which was
recently put to me by a certain philosopher. "To me," he said, "in
common, I may say, with many others, it is a matter of wonder that in
the present age, which produces many highly skilled in the arts Of
popular persuasion, many of keen and active powers, many especially rich
in every pleasing gift of language, the growth of highly exalted and
wide-reaching genius has with a few rare exceptions almost entirely
ceased. So universal is the dearth of eloquence which prevails
throughout the world.

2
"Must we really," he asked, "give credit to that oft-repeated assertion
that democracy is the kind nurse of genius, and that high literary
excellence has flourished with her prim