An ancient oak, which stood in Cicero’s pleasure-grounds, led Atticus to inquire concerning the augury which had been presented to Marius, a native of Arpinum, from that very oak, and which Cicero had celebrated in a poem devoted to the exploits of his ferocious countryman, Cicero hints, that the portent was all a fiction; which leads to a discussion on the difference between poetry and history, and the poverty of Rome in the latter department. As Cicero, owing to the multiplicity of affairs, had not then leisure to supply this deficiency, he is requested by his guests, to give them, in the meanwhile, a dissertation on Laws—a subject with which he was so conversant, that he could require no previous preparation. It is agreed, that he should not treat of particular or arbitrary laws,—as those concerning _Stillicide_, and the forms of judicial procedure—but should trace the philosophic principles of jurisprudence to their remotest sources. From this recondite investigation he excludes the Epicureans, who decline all care of the republic, and bids them retire to their gardens. He entreats that the new Academy should be silent, since her bold objections would soon destroy the fair and well-ordered structure of his lofty system. Zeno, Aristotle, and the immediate followers of Plato, he represents as the teachers who best prepare a citizen for performing the duties of social life. Them he professes chiefly to follow; and, in conformity with their system, he announces in the first book, which treats of laws in general, that man being linked to a supreme God by reason and virtue, and the whole species being associated by a communion of feelings and interests, laws are alike founded on divine authority and natural benevolence. According to this sublime hypothesis, the whole universe forms one immense commonwealth of gods and men, who participate of the same essence, and are members of the same community. Reason prescribes the law of nature and nations; and all positive institutions, however modified by accident or custom, are drawn from the rule of right which the Deity has inscribed on every virtuous mind. Some actions, therefore, are just in their own nature, and ought to be performed, not because we live in a society where positive laws punish those who pay no regard to them, but for the sake of that equity which accompanies them, independently of human ordinances. These principles may be applicable to laws in a certain sense; but, in fact, it is rather moral right and justice than laws that the author discusses—for bad or pernicious laws he does not admit to be laws at all. To do justice, to love mercy, and to worship God with a pure heart, were, doubtless, laws in his meaning, (that is, they were right,) previous to their enactment, and no human enactment to the contrary could abrogate them. His principles, however, apply to laws in this sense, and not to arbitrary civil institutions.